The Truth of Yesterday (12 page)

     “Can I help you?” a voice asked from behind me causing me to leap at least a foot into the air. I spun around in midair to find someone from the hotel staff looking at me the way one might look at a pile of offending doggie
doo
that had somehow managed to situate itself under your foot. The man facing me was a little above average height with stiffly gelled dark hair and somewhat beady eyes that glared down his long, thin nose at me.

     “Um, yes,” I said while I thought furiously, “Is this the, uh, place where the, er, conference is being held?” Weak, but it would have to do.

     The man arched an eyebrow. “Yes, indeed it is. Are you a participant in the conference?”

     “Oh, um, yes. I'm staying here too,” I added just to be safe. I provided our room number which did seem to make a little impression. I could almost read his mind; at least I hadn't crept in from the streets.

     “Could I be of assistance to you; show you to the correct conference room, perhaps?” He paused meaningfully and then sprung his trap. “Which conference are you here for?”

     
Crap!
There was more than one? Or was it a trick question? I hadn't even thought to check to see what conference Knox was attending. Had
Sharla
told me? No, I didn't think so.

     “The, uh, one for salesmen,” I said lamely.

     “Ah, yes, that one,” he said. He seemed a little disappointed that I'd come up with an acceptable, if not particularly intelligent, answer. Being thought dim was preferable to being thrown out peremptorily on my rear, however. “
It's
right this way, follow me.”

     He walked briskly past me and around the corner. I couldn't very well refuse to follow him, not if I wanted to get out of this with attracting little attention as possible, so I stepped around the corner as well. Knox was nowhere in sight. I decided to risk a question.

     “Are there other conferences going on this weekend?”

     My guide gave me an irritated look. “No, this is the only one.”

     So it had been a trick question. I could tell he didn't appreciate having to admit that, but at least now I knew where Knox was. I was ushered through one of the doors and was immediately grateful that it was dim inside, most of the lighting being focused on a man at the front of the room on a raised dais. It was evident that the first meeting had already begun.

     “If you haven't registered yet to receive your name badge, please don't forget to do so as soon as our introductory session is over,” the man was saying.
At least my lack of a name badge wouldn't be too obvious
, I thought as I nodded my thanks to the guy who'd led me in and took a seat on the back row.

     As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I scanned the room for my quarry. I spotted his sandy blonde hair about halfway towards the front. At least I could keep an eye on him now, even if it did mean sitting through a few boring speeches.

     And boring they were. By the time
eight o'clock
rolled around, I was struggling just to keep my eyes from slamming shut. When they stopped for a break, I slipped down in my seat while Knox walked by. I couldn't believe they were actually starting back up for yet another two hours tonight in just half an hour. I wanted to cry at the
very
thought.

     I stood up and stretched before slipping out into the hall with the last of the stragglers. I found Knox at the registration table picking up his name badge. Registration was a casual affair at this point, most people had already signed in, and the remainder of the badges and conference kits were simply sitting on the table with the names on them. That gave me an idea. I decided a little camouflage couldn't hurt, and as soon as Knox moved away from the table, I sidled by way over and picked up one of the remaining badges and kits at random.

     I moved into a corner out of the way and looked to see who I would be for the rest of the evening. Tim Jeffrey.
Just what I'd always wanted; two first names.
Now I just had to hope that Tim wasn't in attendance and that no one who ran into me knew Mr. Jeffrey. I clipped the tag onto my sweater and stayed out of the way until everyone filed back into the hall. Knox never left my sight.

     The rest of the conference offered nothing to recommend. By the time the last speaker finished up, I was approaching a comatose state. I was startled into full alertness by the polite applause he received as he stepped off the platform. He was replaced a moment later by the man who'd been giving directions when I'd first entered.

     “That's all for this evening,” he said, sounding about as awake as I felt. “We'll see you all back here in the morning at eight-thirty. And don't forget the complimentary continental breakfast.”

     I groaned inwardly as everyone stood and began to make their way towards the doors. That meant I'd have to be up long before that so I could keep an eye on old Knox. And God only knew when I would be getting to bed tonight.

     I watched Knox walk past, waited while a few more people went by, then stood, and followed. I melted into a group of men talking amongst themselves about their plans for the rest of the evening and not paying attention to much else. I waited until Knox had disappeared around the corner before separating
myself
from their group and trailing after him. He went directly to the elevator, which in turn went directly to his floor. With a resigned sigh, I took the stairs back up and arrived just in time to see his door closing.

     I took my post again, sitting in one of the rather uncomfortable chairs in the alcove, and prepared to wait. Two hours later, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Knox was in for the night and I was definitely having trouble staying awake. I decided to risk returning to our room for the remainder of the night. I would just set the alarm clock I'd brought along early enough to be back in place in what I was beginning to think of as my own private alcove long before Knox arose in the morning. While I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of getting up that early, and after so little sleep, but what choice did I have? It was all part of the job.

     I rode the elevator down to our floor and let myself into the room as quietly as I could in case Micah was asleep. He was. Once my eyes adjusted to the near darkness, I could make him out in the dim light that was creeping in around the curtains. He was lying in the bed, arms thrown over his head, and the blankets pushed down to his waist. I saw a sliver of the band of his boxers showing and my eyes slowly followed up his chest, silvered by the light so that he looked eerily like a white marble statue, handsome and perfect. I felt my breath catch in my throat. His face was so still and peaceful, I was so struck by his beauty that I felt my throat close up and a tear roll down my cheek. I was supposed to sleep with
that
?

     I felt a hint of panic rising in my chest and fought it down. What was I so scared of? I loved Micah, didn't I? I knew I did. And I knew he loved me. So what was my hang-up? Objectively, I knew that at least part of it was simply the fact that I was a virgin. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, or how to do it. I didn't want to look like an idiot. I wanted it to be perfect and wonderful and just the way it always was in the stories. The matter wasn't helped by the fact that I knew making love to Micah would break down the last of any walls I was managing to keep up between us. Once those walls were gone, I'd be completely vulnerable, something I hadn't thought I'd ever want to be with another person. Suddenly, as I stood there watching him sleep, I wasn't so sure anymore. Being vulnerable with Micah was suddenly starting to sound almost inviting-especially if that involved being naked with him under those sheets...

     I pushed that thought quickly out of my head, or tried to anyway.
You're working,
I reminded myself sharply.
You promised Novak that you wouldn't let yourself be distracted by having Micah along.

     That was all well and good, but I felt a stirring in my groin just looking at him. I turned quickly and set the alarm clock for an ungodly hour. I slipped out of my clothes and into the sheets, ignoring my erection as best I could. Micah never stirred. Either he was in a very deep sleep or he was still mad at me from earlier. I couldn't blame him if he was. I'd acted like a royal prick.

     I raised myself up onto my elbow so I could see his face clearly again. I wanted to reach out and touch his face. I wanted to feel his body next to mine, skin against skin. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to shake him awake and make love to him. I didn't do any of these things though. I just laid there and watched him sleep until my eyes refused to stay open any longer.

* * *

     All too soon, I was awakened by the rude blaring of the alarm clock. For a few confused seconds I couldn't remember where I was or why my alarm was going off when it was still pitch black. Then I felt Micah stirring beside me and it all came back to me.

     I fumbled with the clock, finally managing to get it turned off. I so did not want to get up. I forced myself into a sitting position with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed. I sat like that while I tried to wake up enough to think clearly.

     “What time is it?” Micah asked.

     “Too early,” I mumbled.

     I was trying to summon the energy to stand up when I felt his hand slide across my back, warm and slightly rough. I felt a shiver ripple through me. I suddenly felt very awake.

     “I didn't even hear you come in last night,” he said.

     “I didn't want to wake you.”

     “I wish you had.” I felt him sit up behind me and a second hand joined the first in its exploration of my back.