Chapter 39
“So,” Jay asked, two hours into the drive. “How’s the manuscript going?”
I blinked in surprise, not expecting him to ask about my writing. “Oh. Um, it’s going well actually.”
We hadn’t talked in a while. After stopping for some snacks and acquiring some corn nuts, I’d been munching in blissful silence.
“That’s all I’m going to get?” he asked, his eyes briefly flicking to me in the passenger seat before returning to the road.
I hesitated, then let out a small breath. “It’s just, weird now. Talking to you about my book.”
“Why is it weird now?” he asked, brow furrowing.
I shifted in my seat, pursing my lips. “Now that I know you’re the son of a literary genius and all.”
Jay groaned, rolling his eyes. “Please don’t do that.”
I crunched loudly on a corn nut. “Do what?”
“Treat me like I’m some extension of her,” he said. “I don’t want this to change things. I like hearing about your book.”
I eyed him skeptically. “Really?”
“Really. It’s still just me, Hope. Same guy who drills teeth for a living.”
The tension eased just a fraction.
“Okay, well. It’s going well. I’m about halfway through it. I’m unsure exactly how it’s going to end, but I feel like I’m one of those writers who just figure it out along the way.”
“You’re a pantser.”
“A what?”
“A pantser. A writer who flies by the seat of their pants.”
I laughed, surprised at how perfectly that described me. “That is exactly how I am. In fact, I don’t know how to do it any other way.”
He proceeded to ask me a plethora of questions about my book, which led to a pretty lengthy conversation.
What was the motive of my main character?
What made me choose the setting?
What was my inspiration for writing about a girl and her art gallery?
What were the themes?
I found myself rambling for quite a while.
No one ever asked me about my book. Emily feigned interest at times, but she was easily distracted.
My parents never even gave me the time of day.
Even the mention of writing had them eyeing me with slight disdain.
If I were writing, that meant I wasn’t doing my schoolwork.
So essentially, I never really got to just talk about it.
“Well, I’m excited to read it when it’s done,” he said after a while of my rambling and him peppering me with insistent questions.
I was about to say he would never, in a million years, read a single word I wrote—but before I could, the hotel came into view.
The Fairmont Grand was absolutely stunning. My attention was immediately drawn to the red sandstone exterior and the desert-paradise vibes it gave off. There were several shimmering pools and luxurious fountains. There was even a beautiful barn with horses that guests could take on trail rides.
As we pulled up to the front entrance, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.
Why did this feel like a vacation? It most definitely wasn’t.
I was, in fact, going to have to listen to a bunch of dental professionals speak for hours on end.
But for some reason, the sight of the hotel was taking the edge off.
The valet approached Jay, and he handed over his keys. The two talked for a moment, and then Jay came around to my side of the truck. He opened the door for me and then grabbed our things from the back.
“Let’s go check in,” he said, gesturing toward the doors. He didn’t let me carry my own luggage.
We made our way inside and were greeted by palm plants and birds of paradise. A massive crystal chandelier hung in the center of the lobby, casting light onto the leather chaise lounges and ornate décor.
It was utterly gorgeous.
The front desk lady beamed at us when we approached.
“Welcome to the Fairmont Grand. How can I help you?”
“We can’t check in yet, but we’re here for the dental conference,” Jay explained, leaning his arm on the granite front desk counter.
“We can hold your bags for you until it’s time to check in, and after the first half of the conference is over, you can come pick them up, and your rooms will be ready.”
“Thank you,” Jay said.
The woman came around the side of the desk to tag our bags, then put them in a back room until it was time to check in.
“You ready to go check out the conference?” Jay asked.
I nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
We left the luxury feel of the front lobby, despite how badly I wished I could go to the pool right now instead of a CE course.
We followed the signs down the hall to the conference.
A table had been set out at the front entrance to the giant hall, lanyards laid out with people’s names.
One of the women sitting at the table helped me check in, handed me a lanyard and a complimentary goodie bag, and crossed my name off a list.
“You’re good to go, Ms. Elmswood.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking my things.
I turned to find Jay slinging his badge over his head and talking with someone who recognized him—another dentist, I assumed.
“I really need to show you this new technique. It’s been a game-changer in my office.”
“Let’s meet sometime. I’d really love to have you explain it more,” Jay said kindly.
I waited awkwardly until they finished speaking. Jay turned back to me with a lopsided smile.
“Let’s go find a seat, shall we?”
“You don’t want to sit with the other dentists?” I asked, my eyes flicking to the man he’d just been speaking with.
Jay smirked. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Just didn’t know if you’d want to be seen with me.”
“Hope. I always want to be seen with you,” he said, completely serious.
I opened my mouth to find something to say, but nothing came out.
“Come on, before all the good seats get taken.” His hand fell to the small of my back, and he guided me through the conference room doors.
As we entered the hall filled with dental personnel from across California, the nerves set in.
I worried for some reason that someone might recognize me.
A brief moment of panic hit when I wondered if my father might be attending, but thankfully, I didn’t see his face anywhere.
He typically liked putting on his own CE courses at his office, so it was rare for him to attend events more than an hour away from Riverside.
When the coast seemed clear, I calmed down a bit. Jay picked a seat closer to the back, and it was just the two of us at our own table.
I pulled out the notebook that had come in my goodie bag, along with the cheap pen they’d thrown in.
I set it out to take notes if I heard anything interesting, though I expected to be a little bored for the next few hours.
Just in case it got really boring, I’d brought a book I could sneak under the table to read.
I had plenty of practice pretending to take notes when I was really reading—I’d done it all through middle school, high school, and even college.
“Let me guess,” Jay said, watching me rummage through my things. “You brought a book?”
I gave him the side-eye.
“You’ll wish you’d brought a book when we reach hour six.”
“I don’t need a book,” he said confidently. “Just a pen, paper, and some tic-tac-toe.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He grinned. “Not in the slightest.”
The first speaker took the stage a few minutes later, launching into a detailed presentation on the latest advancements in periodontal surgery. I kept the book as a backup and decided to take notes on the first few speakers in my little notepad. And it turned out to be pretty interesting.
The next speaker talked about anesthesia, and I remained fairly focused for that one, too.
It was the third speaker that I yawned and started to feel the effects of waking up early.
A few seconds after my yawn, something tapped my hand. I turned to find that Jay had slid a small notebook—one that had come in the goodie bag—toward me. Already drawn on the page was a tic-tac-toe bracket.
I raised an eyebrow, but he just looked at me in complete silence, all seriousness.
He really was going to try to play tic-tac-toe with me?
I sighed, took my pen, and scribbled an X in the middle.
He took the paper back and wrote in an O.
We went back and forth a few times, and Jay won the first three rounds.
My innate competitiveness surged, and I grabbed the notebook to create a new bracket. Jay chuckled under his breath.
As the speakers droned on, we played almost thirty rounds of tic-tac-toe, and before long, the first half of the conference was over. There would be a short fifteen-minute break before the second half.
“Well, that was fun,” Jay said, and a small laugh escaped me.
“We still have, like, four more hours.”
“Good thing you brought a book then,” he winked, then reached up to loosen his tie a little. “Would you like some water?”
“That would be great, thanks,” I replied, suddenly feeling very thirsty.
Jay nodded and weaved his way through the rows of seats toward the refreshment table. I took a moment to stretch and check the time. It was almost two o’clock. The last speaker wouldn’t finish until around six-thirty. I stifled a groan.
I told myself I could stick it out for a few more hours and hoped the next round of speakers would be engaging enough to keep me awake.
Jay returned a few moments later with water, and I gratefully took the cup.
“Thanks,” I said to Jay.
“No problem,” he said, settling in next to me again.
I drank the entire contents of the minty water. As I set my empty cup down, the first speaker of the second half of the conference stepped up to the stage. I turned my attention back to the microphone, feeling a little more awake after hydrating.
I was pretty far from the stage, so I didn’t recognize him at first.
But then he started speaking.
Suddenly, my surroundings felt faraway, and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. It felt like the room was shrinking.
The familiar voice instantly sent me into almost immediate fight-or-flight.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Pike, and I’ll be presenting today on titanium implants.”
My eyes widened. My heart dropped into my stomach.
And everything came crashing down.