Chapter Two
Bernie
Pru : Any asshole sightings?
I snort, looking at my best friend’s text. I love this woman, but she is crazy. Cody looks up from his phone with a questioning look, and I shrug.
Bernie : No literal or figurative assholes sighted.
After sending that reply, I leave the banquet hall to trudge up the stairs for my first session. Staying up late and drinking a bunch of wine turned out to be a poor choice. Shocking .
I am beyond exhausted and pull myself up the stairs using the handrail. Sure, I could take the elevator but…exercise. I make it to the fifth floor with ten minutes to spare and duck into the bathroom to make sure I’m presentable.
Pru : Literal assholes? Is that even a possibility? I mean, I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing but I’m glad to hear you’re getting out there again.
She sends a series of GIFs that can only be described as a combination of shocked and…horny?
Bernie : Who says I’m not out there?
Pru :
Bernie, I tried to set you up with that comms professor and you literally recoiled and didn’t talk to me for two days. You are not ‘out there’.
I snort, and the woman at the sink next to me gives me the side eye. Yep, I hear ya sister, texting in a bathroom is not cool . I exit and look for my session’s assigned room, swiftly finding a seat around one of the round tables in the back.
Bernie : I haven’t seen him. I hope I won’t.
Pru : Any more emails?
Two. They were literally burning a hole in my inbox this morning. I forced myself to delete them before I left my hotel room. While epic, I do not need a Prudence Landry rant, so I lie.
Bernie : Nope, he must be busy. Maybe he didn’t come this year?
Pru knows exactly how delusional I am. My best friend before, during, and after the worst decision I’ve ever made has impulse control issues. Pru’s a hot head and sometimes acts before thinking. Evidence? The restraining order my ex threatened to serve her with last year.
Pru : Yeah, we both know that isn’t true. I looked at the program, B. He’s presenting twice. *eyeroll emoji*
Bernie : I met someone last night.
I’m not sure why I went with this as a distraction, but Ashish Mishra was on my mind. This morning, I awoke hot, sweaty, and horny. My dreams were nothing but smoldering hazel eyes and big smiles.
Pru : !!!!!??? Wait, so you are out there? Huzzah!
Bernie : I don’t know why I tell you anything. Talk later, my session is starting.
I mute my phone, slide it into my bag, and pull out my laptop. Time to learn more about corporate tax code and philanthropic giving cycles. A worthy distraction.
***
I try to subtly check my phone as one of my colleagues reports on something about the session he attended. Six, still plenty of time.
“Bernie, are you up for the CRM sessions tomorrow? You take the best notes, and our contract is up with our current vendor at the end of the fiscal year.”
Hiding my phone in my pocket, I nod at Gail, I’m not embarrassed to be excited to look at new software. I don’t care if it makes me a nerd; I love software shopping, and our customer relationship management system kind of sucks.
“Good. Alright, I need two to come to dinner tonight. We’re being wined and dined by a vendor, so no worries about stretching per diem.”
There are four of us total from our team at the conference, two focused on partnership engagement, our boss, Gail, and me. While I work more on the nuts and bolts once funds are awarded, I can feel the weight of Gail’s expectations before I make eye contact. She quirks a brow, and I subtly shake my head, palms sweating. As much as I want to do a good job, I think I would rather see if almost kissing Ash feels as good sober as it did drunk.
She literally rolls her eyes as Cody and Dylan eagerly volunteer. At sixty-three, Gail is the embodiment of ‘tough as nails’. She’s kind of hard and exacting, pushing us to be the best, and my introverted nature annoys the shit out of her.
“Alright Bernie, you’re out tonight, but you’re on tomorrow. We have the Big Ten happy hour and the top academic entrepreneur dinner. I need your charm and expertise in the room, got it?”
“Charm and expertise, got it,” I repeat, giving her a thumbs up. She holds my gaze, and I give her a sweet smile.
Snorting she waves a hand in my direction. “Alright, don’t hurt yourself.”
My co-workers laugh at my expense, and I flip them off, hiding my hand behind my bag.
Gail dismisses me and turns to brief Cody and Dylan on the vendor dinner goals. I dive into the crowd to get the hell out of there. For once, I don’t worry about whether or not people think I’m a team player–I’m going to get laid tonight. Hustling towards the lobby doors, I mentally sort through what I brought to wear.
“Bernadette!” a sharp voice carries across the lobby, and I don’t have to turn to know who it is.
Dr. Stephen Graham, conservation biologist, revered professor and mentor, corporate partnership darling, and asshole ex-boyfriend. I suck in a breath and speed up, exiting the building and ducking behind one of the pillars like the coward I am. Please don’t see me, please don’t see me . In the glass, I watch the reflection of his lanky form striding out of the hotel. He looks down the sidewalk in each direction, hands on his hips, impatient. Always impatient.
“Hey,” he waves at the doorman. “Did you see a tall blonde walk through here? Navy suit?”
I hold my breath. That man definitely saw me. I watch the doorman shake his head.
“Sorry, sir, I haven’t seen anyone come through. Have a nice day.”
“Shit,” Stephen says and looks down the sidewalk again. He pulls out his phone and turns back towards the door. Please don’t send me another email , I plead to the universe.
I only have so much self-control, and reading things that make me feel like shit is apparently a guilty pleasure of mine. The things you discover about yourself after a bad breakup, I think ruefully.
I sound like a balloon with a slow leak as I watch him walk back through the lobby doors. Circling around the pillar, I stay out of sight of the lobby windows. I fully realize I am a thirty-one-year-old woman hiding from her ex-boyfriend, but we all have our moments.
“Miss, I would be happy to order you a ride. Is everything okay?” The doorman’s eyes are on the door, but I know he’s talking to me.
“No, thank you. I’m just down the street. Everything’s okay, I…I appreciate you asking.”
He dips his chin. “If you’re sure. Please let me know if you need anything during your stay. Be safe.”
I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder and walk in the direction of my hotel. Stephen Graham may have ruined my belief in happily-ever-afters, but he’s not going to ruin my foray into sexy conference shenanigans with a gorgeous cardiologist.