I could feel his body heat as he scooted closer on the bench. The twinkle lights strung across the courtyard at Bangers did wonders for the festive mood – and, I hoped (chiding myself as I realized it) for my appearance.
Photo Credit: ATMTX
The nine of us were exhausted. Exhilarated, too, because the conference was over, and we’d pulled it off. It was the first time we’d done this conference in Austin, and even with the mountain of details involved in making sure 572 people got their $2,997 of value over the past three days… we’d done it. The back of the room tables, where the even higher-ticket coaching programs were sold had been packed solid during the last three session breaks. We hadn’t run numbers for the day, but even before the doors opened this morning, we’d far exceeded the weekend’s projections.
I smiled to myself, proud that not only had this event gone so smoothly, but I’d found the perfect spot to cap it all off for our after-party. It would be like usual – the drinks would flow and flow and flow. The food would be delicious. There would be dancing – probably at the hotel bar. My boss would text me with a message that conveyed his appreciation for all I’d done.
Of course, it hadn’t been just me. Sure, as the event manager, it was my show to run, but from the invisible background. Behind the clipboard, all kinds of details were orchestrated. The room temperature, the timing of the coffee break, the endless mic running coordination – I know I’ve done my job well when nobody knows I’m doing it.
Looking around the table, I thought about how every one of the eight staff and volunteers present had really shown up this weekend. They’d worked their butts off, and I was proud of them. Even the new guy, the emcee, and I had to admit I’d been wrong about him.
The purposefully, carelessly styled mop of dark curls, the bright green eyes, the body… David’s build could only be described in words people usually use for sculpture.
It was distracting, actually, and I’d purposefully avoided him as much as I could justify doing. He’d gone through this leadership training program for sales trainers that had somehow given him what could only be described as super powers when it came to talking to people – even small talk felt intense with him with those eyes, that voice, the ease he displayed as he’d touch the person’s elbow. And they ate it up.
Watching how he worked the crowd the first night of this, David’s first event, I’d gotten the sense that this guy was a player. The women seemed to light up as he’d brush by, chatting with this one and that.
This would probably help with sales, actually, I’d thought, and so I just did what I do. We’d had others before, and they all had that same persona – a strange mix of feral and cloying, maybe.
It was tight quarters at our table. I was glad for the slight breeze blowing through the courtyard. David’s leg was kind of mashed up next to mine, which would have been weird if we hadn’t all been squished in.
I made eye contact with Sara, sitting diagonally across from me.
She handled all the sales for the events, a whiz with numbers and as gorgeous as she was smart. Oh, and funny – kind of a nice surprise in a controller. She wiggled her eyebrows at me and gave a nearly imperceptible chin point in David’s direction.
Half laughing, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. She was drunk – or at least headed that way, on her third martini of the night. I was sipping a nice wine, making it last. Everyone was well on their way toward a hefty hangover the next morning, but if this was like all the prior events, we’d only just started.
Dinner was good. Filling, greasy in all the right ways, and I’d enjoyed every bite, remembering how hard I’d run myself all weekend, fueled on not much more than PowerBars and caffeine.
We decided to take the Riverwalk home. The breeze had picked up a bit, and there was almost a chill in the air. We weren’t the only ones on the gravel path, and we’d all move over onto our side of the path as other groups passed, heading out for their night of fun.
Photo Credit: Yelp
We could hear music. There was an acoustic guitarist playing up by the Mexican American Center just up the grassy hill a bit. Dave Matthews Band “Crash into Me” – it was a favorite, so I recognized it immediately.
I’d just turned to look when I felt David grab my hand and waist and pull me toward the musician. A big grin on his face, he swept me into his arms with a grace that was only equalled by my own clumsiness. I stepped on his foot and nearly lost my balance. He caught me and danced on like nothing had happened. Some others from our group joined in, and there we all were, dancing in the grass by the riverside, drunk and exhausted and happy.
When the song was over, we all continued our trek to the hotel. I was suddenly just too exhausted to even entertain the idea of going out anywhere else – or even sitting by the beautifully lighted pool to drink more. I had an early flight the next morning, and I knew the smart move would be to drink a bunch of water and go to bed. Well, maybe a bath first.
So, I begged off. They’d all be fine. I hugged each one goodnight, saying again how much I appreciated how hard they’d worked to make this event the best yet – and promised I’d save more energy for the end of our next event, three months from now. I loved these guys, and once again thought how lucky I was to have this job. Work from home, except when we’ve got events, and travel the world. It was perfect.
Room 211 – a hotel room door never looked so good as it did at the end of an event like this. I hadn’t spent much time in my room, with the late nights and early mornings needed to keep everything going smoothly. The bathtub was calling me, and I turned the faucet on full-blast, squeezing the little bottle of body gel under the rushing water.
I tossed my phone on the bed, kicked my shoes off in the direction of the closet, then reconsidered and rushed over to line them up neatly.
The carpet felt good under my worn-out feet. I peeled my clothes off, pulled them inside-out, and tucked them into the laundry bag in my suitcase.
I ambled over to the bathroom, loving the luxurious carpet. Then, the cold tile. Then, the terry cloth bathmat. Then, the hot bath. Relief spread from my soles up to my legs, and I sat down in the tub and leaned back against the end of the tub. Oh, the bliss of the after-event bath – there’s nothing quite like soaking away a run, run, run weekend in a bubble bath.
When the water started to cool, I got out, toweled off, and climbed into bed. The bed – that was the main reason I always booked this particular hotel chain for these events. Luxurious, the perfect mix of cushion and support – with the little sleep we’d all get, it needed to be good.
I thought I’d fall right asleep, like usual. But my mind kept going back to the dance with David. I don’t remember feeling it at the time, but now I could vividly imagine his hand on the small of my back, his warm breath on my ear as he sang the lyrics. He could sing, too. It was like he was inhuman, all this polish about him. I didn’t like this feeling, but my mind also drummed up the sensation of his thigh pressed up to mine at the restaurant, his arm had also brushed mine nearly the entire time, hanging from those broad shoulders.
I shook my head like an Etch-a-Sketch to try to derail this stupid train of thought. I rolled over and repositioned myself under the crisp sheets. It didn’t take long before I fell asleep this time.
I awoke with a jolt. My first thought was that my phone’s alarm was going off and that even though it felt like the middle of the night, it was time to get up. Fumbling for it, I then realized it was actually a text message notification that had awakened me.
It was from David.
Um, what? I was a bit dazed. What?
Oh, God. Um, what do I do? This is crazy. He’s probably drunk.
I rolled over again, stuffed my phone under the pillow on the other side of the bed, and tried to fall back asleep. Futile, of course. I had to look at the messages again. This couldn’t be happening. I mean, really. David could have any woman he focused his attention on – this had to be a joke.
Yeah, that was probably it. A joke, or a bet. Like, maybe he and the other guys were sitting at the bar, and someone dared him to text me that stuff. He’d done it, and they were probably buying him another shot as they all laughed about it.
What? This couldn't really be happening, could it?
My heart was pounding. This was crazy.
Oh my God. Oh my God. What do I do? What do I say? I’d never even considered kissing him, much less more than that! Well, actually, that’s not true – I’d kind of thought about it, but only like you might think about a celebrity or someone like that, completely out of reach, someone you’re completely invisible to in a way that makes thinking about it too laughable to even consider.
I couldn’t go, right? I mean, we work together. Well, sort of. We’re not exactly coworkers if we’re not really employees, right? Oh come on, don’t be such a baby. No wonder it’s been months since you’ve even had a date. You’ve got to be cooler than this – like it’s nothing… because that’s all it is. A little harmless flirtation. I answer him.
He must be drunk. He must be.
This was really happening. I think. But why? What happened to cause this? Was he drunk? Was it a joke? I started thinking maybe not... but maybe.
His reply came fast.
I couldn’t believe it. I was actually thinking about doing it. What harm could it do – right? A single drink. Maybe a kiss. Maybe. And then back to bed. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, anyway. Plus, he probably wasn’t going to stop. I’d seen him in action in sales mode.
Sighing, I kicked off my covers and stood in the dark. I texted him back.
Adrenaline? Desire? Whatever it was, it was rushing through me and I felt like a teenager. I tore through my suitcase looking for something to wear that didn’t look so corporate. What was I thinking? I was like a kid getting ready for a big date!
I ran a brush through my hair and debated putting makeup on. No, that would be ridiculous. I’d been in bed, after all. That would make it look like this was the kind of thing that had my heart beating like crazy – and of course it did. I decided on some lip gloss and a light spritz of perfume on my collarbone. Not too overdone, not like I’d fussed or even cared.
Checking myself in the full-length mirror, even I liked what I saw. A little unkempt, but in a sexy kind of way. Jeans, a tee shirt, heels. Natural. Cool. Well, on the outside, anyway.
Ding. My phone went off again. I half dove for it, carried away by the excitement.
It was Sara.
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