Chapter 3: Wednesday

I catch up with Courtney a few times during the day on the exhibit floor. We’re pretty much all business, though we do hug in the morning the first time we see each other. But there’s no discussion of our kisses the night before, or her marriage, or anything else.

We split up for a session or two. The team grabs lunch without her -- she has a meeting. But we keep drifting into each other on the show floor, and I can’t help but notice the way her smile lights up her face every time our eyes meet. I’m quite sure my face is echoing hers.

In the afternoon, people split back to their hotels to drop off conference swag and change. I put my boots back on -- giving my feet a break, I’d saved my boots just for the evening activities, and then Evan, Marcy, and I head for the first party of the night.

On the way there, Courtney texts me to ask again the name of our first destination.

-- Nudie’s Honky Tonk. Stop making me say it!:)

She replies:

-- LOL. I knew it was something naughty starting with an ‘N’ but couldn’t remember!

I look at my colleagues, who are talking about something technical, not paying any attention to me, and decide to take a chance with my reply.

-- I should have made you guess. Nipples? Nympho?

I watch the dots-dots-dots of her reply on my phone, nervous that maybe I’d pushed things too far.

Finally, her reply:

-- I said it yesterday. You’re dangerous.:)

I grin down at the screen, heart doing that half-stupid thing where it beats faster for no good reason. She’s not wrong.

Courtney finds us about five minutes after we get to Nudie’s. I want a chance to talk to her alone, but in a crowded bar surrounded by co-workers, it’s impossible. Evan calls for a selfie and Courtney ends up at the edge, barely in the frame. Our arms naturally find each other’s waists, and I pull her hip tightly against mine, thrilled by the contact.

Still, we don’t get a moment alone through our next couple of vendor parties -- a smaller sponsor first, then a bigger one hosted by one of the tech companies. At the first event we joke about stealing the giant stuffed koala and go through the food line together. When we find a quiet table, just the two of us, on the terrace, my heart soars. But then our super-annoying salesman shows up, dominating the conversation while he and Courtney bond over their shared love of a football team. By the time we finally get rid of him, Evan and Marcy have joined us.

It’s the same story at the next event -- more handshakes, a guy from another office back home joining in, and no chance for quiet. Courtney’s eyes meet mine a couple of times, and I imagine she’s having the same thoughts I am, but I’m not sure.

A little before eight, Courtney says she’s heading back to get an early night’s sleep. I offer to walk her -- “One of us could walk you back,” I say, knowing it would be me -- but she declines. She hugs Evan, then Marcy, then me, holding on just a beat too long.

“Safe travels home, Eric,” she says, her lips close to my ear to be heard over the music.

I shiver. “You too,” I shout-whisper back, and then she’s gone.

After she leaves, Evan, Marcy, and one of the other guys are still obsessed with the free arcade games the sponsor has set up at the party. I watch for a while, pretending not to check the door every few minutes. The noise feels thinner without her somehow -- like the music’s still playing but the warmth has gone out of it. I’m the very definition of “at loose ends.” When a couple of people from another school invite me to a steakhouse with a vendor rep, I agree. There’s nothing left for me here tonight.

Or so I think.