Don't Fall
Page 23
“You know how I got lost? Yeah, well, I accidentally stumbled into another conference.”
“And?” She’s not following how this led to coffee.
“And, the guy at the podium was sipping the great brown nectar of the gods, so I inquired where he got it. When he told me it was from the other side of China, I cursed out loud and left the room. Honestly, I may also have whimpered as the door shut behind me.”
She grabs my arm to stop me just as I’m about to reach out and pick up all of the junk I dragged in here with me today, so I can haul it on to the hall next door where we’re having a friendly meet and greet of sorts according to the itinerary. “Are you saying some random dude from another conference sent you coffee?”
“Yeah. How pathetic must I have looked, huh?” I try to laugh it off. Part of me would still like to believe that it was flirty coffee, not pity coffee.
Layne looks thoughtful. “I’m totally using that. Was he hot?”
This time I laugh for real. Everything is potential writing material with Layne. “Yep.”
Working her way back into best friend status, she’s a pal and helps me carry my stuff next door.
Because we had such a late start this morning, the powers that be decided to make the schedule work by cutting the panel that was set to follow mine, which means we now have twenty minutes to kill before the meet and greet thing. Twenty minutes I would have used to go and track down coffee, but now that I’ve had some already, I have nothing to do with myself. Except mingle. Eh.
“Maybe I should go back and thank him.”
Layne smirks. “That hot, huh?”
I can feel myself grin like an idiot. “You sound like you’re fourteen when you say it like that.” My eyes roll back into my skull as I surrender. “But he totally was.”
“I’ll watch your stuff.” That’s the green light I was looking for.
“Thank you.” Then I run from the room. And, I’m really running this time.
A million and one scenarios pop into my head while I maneuver my way around the people milling about in between the various conventions taking place here today. In several of the scenarios I say something extremely witty and come off looking like a rock star at male-female interactions. This is how I know I spend too much time with my brain stuck in some romance novel. Because I’m not smooth. Not in person anyway. I could probably write out some clever dialogue though and hand it to him. No typos or anything. Why aren’t men more impressed by this?
My thoughts have derailed some by the time I’m standing in front of the Eat. Shop. LIVE Local banner again. The doors are still closed which makes me somewhat hesitant to follow through with what I originally thought was a brilliant plan. Then I decide I’ve already gotten a head start on the humiliation today, no need to fall behind now, and I open the doors.
The room is empty. Not a single business man in sight.
Jensen
Eyeing the big red banner, I can see why she got confused. Well, provided she needs glasses in a really bad way and can’t read, I can kinda see why she got confused. The colors are the same, but that’s pretty much where the similarities end.
I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. When I first headed down this path, it seemed like a good idea to check in and make sure she got the coffee I sent her. Obviously, Jade told me she got the coffee, but it seemed like the sort of thing I should do personally. Now that I’m standing here searching the crowd for her, a virtual stranger, I’m thinking it may come across as a little stalkerish.
“Are you looking for someone?” A woman with bright teal hair shows up at my side out of nowhere. It’s probably embarrassingly obvious how much I don’t belong to this crowd.
“Just checking out what you all have going on here,” I lie. It’s not normal for me to determine that’s the best course of action. Usually I’m honest to a fault. Even when it makes me look bad. But all of this is out of character for me. Starting with the coffee. No. Starting with singling her out when she came bursting through the doors like a meteor crashing into the world. My world.
“Just checking us out, huh?” She smirks and I notice the stud right below her lip. Suddenly it clicks. The piercings. The hair. I’ve seen her before.
“You’re Layne Larson.”
She laughs. I’m probably the first man to ever recognize her. I’m not exactly her target audience.
“You’re familiar with my work?”
I shake my head, laughing quietly. “Not me. My wife.”
“I see.” Her face lights up. “Is she here? I’d love to meet her.”
I clear my throat. It seems to be seizing up on me. It hasn’t done that in ages. “She, uh, couldn’t make it.”
Ms. Larson pushes her lip out in a faux pout. “Oh, that’s too bad. Well, let me grab you a copy of Fire and Freedom. It doesn’t release until next month. You’ll score major points in the husband department.” She squeezes my arm lightly as she hurries past me.
I should leave. Right now. I don’t know what I was even thinking coming over here. But I don’t want to be rude. It’s not Layne Larson’s fault I’m a complete idiot.
“Alright, who do I make this out to?” She’s back already, pen in hand, the tip hovering over the open book.
“Marlee. M-A-R-L-E-E.”
“Oh, I love that name! That’s it. She’s going to be a character in my next novel.” She chuckles to herself as she finishes signing the book, and I can’t help but think how thrilled Marlee would be to hear that. Only there’s no way I’ll ever be able to tell her.
“Thanks so much. Really.” I do my best to smile back at her, then I turn and haul ass out of there before anyone else shows up and starts talking to me. Before she shows up and starts talking to me.
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Acknowledgements
It seems I started writing this one eons ago. Honestly, I don’t actually remember when I first sat down with the initial story stirring in my mind, I do remember however, it was nothing like how it turned out. And that’s a good thing.
The original version didn’t have Aunt Edi in it, and I think we can all agree, the story would be missing some of its heart without her. My Great Aunt Elnora was dying in the midst of my struggle to find a path I felt passionate about with this story, and the last time I spoke to her, she was already saying her goodbyes, telling me to ‘Always remember your Aunt Elnora’. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was, how absurd to even consider that not remembering her was possible. And so, I wanted to do more. I didn’t want to just remember, I wanted to share some of her unwavering kindness and love with all of you. And to tell you all, that if you have yet to eat dirt cake, you should do it – do it now. You won’t be sorry.
Don’t Fall is filled with all the good reality-fiction mash-ups I’m so very fond of, and part of me feels super compelled to thank all of those wonderful, crazy people who contributed to my life experiences thus making stories like this one possible, however, on second thought, maybe it’s best I don’t fully disclose what is real and what is not...and perhaps a simple, ‘thanks for being part of the ride – you know who you are’, will be best. So, you know...Thanks for being part of the ride