Phillip shrugged, taking a long drink out of the glass of wine she had refused. Maybe she was on a diet? He knew a lot of the "Bimbettes" that he spent time with dieted, but he'd never really pegged Whitney for being the kind of girl who put stock in that sort of thing. Oh well, if she wanted to guzzle water, there was more wine for him...and one good thing he could say for Whitney, her taste in food and drink was exceptional. As much as he might tease her about traveling all of the time, Phillip suspected that part of her allure was that worldly flair, the way she had seen so much. Flaw or not, Phillip found it fascinating...not that he'd ever tell her that. He suspected that if he ever told her just how interesting she was, how much he liked being drawn to her, he'd ruin their game of fighting and angry sex...and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Whitney came back from the kitchen looking much worse for the wear. She had her head between her knees and she looked like she was shaking. "Hey? What's wrong?" Phillip put his hand on her back, his brow furrowed in concern.