“I mean, I don’t have to...” I try to ask him, but I think he understands.
“Lucy. I’m sorry, okay? I acted like a jerk back there at the hotel with that guy. You’re my baby girl and I guess it has to happen at some point… I just… Ah shit, I guess I wish you could both just stay young forever,” he says, creasing a smile before wincing in pain again.
“Are you okay?” I gasp, reaching for the button by his pillow, but he tells me he’s fine.
“Just my hand. They won’t give me anything for it until I have some more blood work.”
I sit with him for another hour and they finally give him something for his pain, which helps him to sleep.
Feeling torn, between staying with my dad and finding Nathan, but dad has the doctors watching over him, I decide to go back to the hotel to find Nathan, feeling drawn to the convention as I pass it again on the way back.
Maybe it’s those eyes on the banners out front again, I’m not sure. But I feel like I need him now more than ever as I pull up, letting the valet take my dad’s car.
The hotel seems empty compared to my last visit, with no real crowds milling out front or in the foyer. No media lurking around.
There’s a steady trickle of people towards the main event ballroom area though, and I feel myself drawn to it, wondering if Nathan maybe did come back down after all.
Wondering if I can creep in without a ticket again, I gasp when I feel a firm hand on my arm.
“Uh, Miss?” The deep voice says and I spin to see someone who looks more like Dexter the cartoon than a security guard.
“Are you Lucy by any chance? Lucy Scarborough?” he asks, loosening his grip.
“Who wants to know?” I ask, feeling awkward at being caught as well as being recognized by a complete stranger.
“I’m Shaun. Nathan Cartwright’s agent. He asked me to come find you, and I’ve only just come back from following you to the hospital,” he confesses, figuring I must be the Lucy he’s looking for.
Not sure how many Lucy’s would be on the loose in a book convention in this town this weekend.
“I thought Nathan fired his agent?” I ask him, cocking my brow, but figuring he’s being on the level when I see him flush a deep crimson.
“We’ve just repaired that relationship,” he clips, almost to himself instead of me as he ushers me back the other way.
“I can get you in,” he adds knowingly. “To see Nathan, I mean,” he tells me.
Taking me easily with those few words. Hook line and sinker. But I hold my ground for a moment, feeling a little like a feather in the wind today after all that’s happened.
“Nathan… Uh… Mr. Cartwright sent me out to find you, Lucy,” he repeats, giving me his own look of disbelief as his eyes scan me from head to toe.
“I can get you backstage right now if you want,” he tells me, making my heart flutter in my chest, but also stirring another feeling inside me.
“No,” I say firmly.
“I don’t need any special treatment, but if you could get me near the front, I’d love to hear him speak,” I tell him, wondering if any of this is even possible.
Wondering again if any of this weekend is even real anymore, it just seems to be getting stranger by the minute.
But somehow, someway, I want to secretly surprise Nathan.
And I don’t want to embarrass him either if the look his agent just gave me is anything to go by, I can only imagine what other people would think of me.
In a few minutes, I’m ushered through the semi-darkness of the giant ballroom and directed to a plush seat on the side right by the front.
I can feel his agent Shaun directing me into my seat, and just as well. I can’t take my eyes off Nathan once I see him.
His whole presence fills the stage as well as the ballroom, every set of eyes is on him and hanging on his every word.
I thought that effect was maybe reserved just for me, but no.
The man really is something remarkable.
And to think I had him between my legs and walked away.
Twice!
He’s standing at a heavy wooden lectern and is taking questions from the audience. A half dozen or so staff ready to dart to the next question with a microphone so everyone can hear.
His eyes are scanning the room, even though he’s in the middle of answering someone’s question about what motivates his feelings as a writer.
About why there’s suddenly the elements of romance in his latest novels.
I feel a pang of jealousy, even though it’s a guy who’s asked the question.
By his own admission, a long-time fan who’s actually none too happy about the change of pace in Nathan’s spy-thriller novels.