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CHAPTER 2
SAM
While I was aware it would be a somewhat big event, I underestimated the number of attendees. At least half a thousand attendees are at the venue already. They must have rented out the entire conference center.
“I didn’t know it’d be this big,” I say to Chris as we get off the elevator and lug our bags to our rooms. Chris was assigned a suite with two bedrooms and he’d only just found out at the reception. The pained look on his face when the receptionist handed him a single key proved that he’d truly been expecting two separate rooms. We didn’t talk about it, though. Just pretended it wasn’t a big deal.
"It usually isn't," Chris replies to my comment. "But this year's our tenth anniversary. It's gotta be big."
The way he said ‘our’ makes me look at him again. Is he one of the organizers?
“I still think we should have gotten a bellhop to help with our bags,” Chris grumbles as we reach the door marked with our number.
"Aw, come on. It's just a few lightweight bags." I laugh. "Unless you packed more than you insinuated. Do you have a ton of gold in there? Or a dead body? No, don't tell me. It'd be better if I don't know anything when the police come knocking."
"What?" Chris looks at me with a disbelieving expression and then bursts out in laughter. "Why would you even think that?" He shakes his head and juggles the briefcase in his hand to swipe the keycard on the door.
The door opens with a beep. Chris tries to enter the room and pocket the keycard at the same time. It would have been okay, but the bags in both his hands hold him back and the card falls to the floor.
Without thinking, I bend to pick it up and Chris does the same. He ends up closing his fist around my hand instead of the card. We stay there for a beat, long enough for me to remember our near kiss in the office. Heat shoots up my arm from where he touches me. As if on cue, we scurry apart and I grab the card from the floor.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble, my face hot with awareness. Chris clears his throat and nods. I hold on to the card like it could save me from the awkwardness. What on earth is going on?
"Uhm, so you might want to choose a room first," Chris says. In one glance, I take in the impressive suite. It’s quite spacious and the décor is tastefully done. It has a living space, a small diningarea, and a door on either side of the room. Obviously the bedrooms. There are blinds drawn on one side of the room, which I guess give a view of the courtyard below and people milling about.
How do I choose the room that’s not the master bedroom without checking them out first? I don't want to impose. I’m only tagging along, after all. I stand there for a bit looking from left to right.
“Any day now, Sam,” Chris says, looking at me expectantly with a small grin.
"Sorry," I smile. "I'll take the one on the left," I say and make my way to the room.
“You can take a quick nap before today’s events begin,” Chris says. “You must be tired from the flight.”
I'm not tired but I nod anyway. "Are you speaking today?" I ask Chris as I suddenly remember that he’s one of the panelists. I knew he was scheduled to speak on two of the three days, but I wasn't sure which ones.
"I am. The first panel discussion at 3 pm."
I check the time, and it is only 11 am. There’s still a little time before then. "Okay. Good luck," I say.
“You’ll be there, right?” Chris asks.
"Of course." I’m surprised that he even asked and I let him see it. "I'm only here because of you."
He swallows visibly before he replies. "You don't have to, though. You should network and socialize. You know, do your own thing. Don't hold yourself back because of me."
“Don’t worry about me, Chris. Now go in and sleep off the jet lag or read a psalm or whatever you do before you go on stage. I don’t want to hear any more talk of that,” I say firmly.
Chris laughs and stares at me for a moment longer than we both know he should. "Yes, Mom," he says and enters his room.
We leave our rooms twenty minutes before the first talk is scheduled to start.
Seeing as it’s the first day and the special nature of this year's event, the hall is packed. There’s hardly any space to move around.
Almost immediately, Chris is hijacked by people who want his opinion on certain issues.
I roll my eyes discreetly when someone asks, "Mr. Jenkins, what do you think about the incessant invasion of celebrities' privacy on social media? Do you think a separate media should be created for stars and important dignitaries?" Why would he think of asking for a separate social media for some particular people? That would just defeat the purpose of social media.
Chris answers the man by asking him to ask his question during the panel discussion.
