I should be sidling up to him, introducing myself, and getting some of those autographs I promised myself as well as for Lionel the coach driver.
Nope. My legs are still moving me away from him.
Before I can force myself to stop, even for a second to try and reconsider my reflexes, I hear someone shout out his name.
The whole foyer of fans seems to look in his direction all at the same time, past me, and then start to swarm over to him, nearly knocking me down in the process.
It’s too much for me to take in, and I find myself back out on the sidewalk and inside a cab moments later, still trying to piece together what just happened.
“Where to miss?” The driver asks me, and I shake my head, annoyed at the sound of his voice when I can barely form a thought.
“Uh… The bus station please,” I clip. Hearing myself sounding calm and collected when inside I feel like a bowl of Jell-O that’s been dropped from the roof.
“Bus station? You’re here for the convention though, right?” The driver asks, perplexed.
I look for him in the rearview mirror from the back seat but notice my own puffy, red-lidded eyes first.
I look like hell.
“I was here for the convention,” I murmur. “No room at the inn,” I scoff loudly, feeling my lip start to tremble as it dawns on me that this weekend, my whole Nathan Cartwright fantasy is just like the rest of my life, a complete disaster.
The cab isn’t moving and I should say something but my energy is focused on not crying like a baby right now.
I hear the driver saying something, but I’m not paying much attention until he asks me a third time.
“I can try and get you a room somewhere else,” he says loudly like I’m hard of hearing. “My cousin, he works the desk at a nice hotel not far from here… cost you though. Fifty bucks. Each,” he adds, not even being shy about it.
I feel my head nodding, my body betraying my true feelings or maybe really acting on them.
In a town of fully booked hotels, it might make more sense to at least try and get a room instead of just leaving, instead of running away.
Running away never worked in the past and it surely won’t work now.
I’ll only feel worse if I leave without meeting him, I know I will. Even though I just blew my one big chance back there.
“Alright,” I sigh, sniffing back my emotions and fishing for my purse.
Around a half-hour later and a few hundred dollars lighter, I’m running a bath in a suite that feels bigger than our whole apartment.
The guy at the desk wasn’t kidding. It really is a ‘suite’.
I wonder what the catch is?
Too tired to worry about details right now, I busy myself with unpacking after picking the room closest to the bathroom.
There are two bedrooms, a bathroom and a little kitchen/lounge area with a balcony.
At two hundred a night, plus the ‘tip’ for the cabbie and his cousin to secure it, I think I did alright.
I’m a little uneasy about how many times he said ‘two rooms in one’ though.
What does that really mean?
Checking there’s a lock on my bedroom door before retiring to the bathroom for a well-earned soak, I decide to start fresh once I’ve had a bath.
I’m here in town, the book convention is in full swing and now at least I’ve had a practice run at getting up close to Nathan Cartwright.
Mission accomplished.
Stage two involves meeting the man again without running away, which I vow to try for again tomorrow maybe.
For now, I look forward to letting the hot water and bath salts work there magic.
Wincing as I test the water I’ve run and let steam up half the suite, I realize just how hot it is.
“A little too hot,” I murmur to myself, pouting because I want to sink straight into a hot bath, but I don’t want to scald myself either.
I run the tub a little colder but it’s almost too full, then decide I can wait a while for it to cool down.
I’ll unpack and explore the suite some more, maybe check out the view from the balcony with some mini bar soda and a box of crackers…
Right after I lay down for just a few minutes… Rest my… eyes.
The suite’s door is locked so I don’t worry about stretching out on the bed in just my tee shirt and panties.
And somehow, that hardback copy with Nathan’s photo on the back ends up in my hands. I stare into his eyes, wishing a thousand times I could have done things differently today.
Wishing I had another chance to make a better impression.
It’s a little while before I feel anywhere near relaxed enough to close my eyes properly and a while longer before I notice my body give a little jerk as I almost fall asleep.