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The moderator finishes up the introductions, then dives right into the discussion.
“This first question is for all of you,” the moderator says. “Do you believe the burden of forging these strong relationships should fall primarily on the teachers or the administrators?”
Jack is the first to speak up. “The administrators, definitely. We’re the leaders, and while we have a lot of work to handle, managing the schools and districts, it doesn’t compare to the workload our wonderful teachers are responsible for each day.”
“Well, I can’t say I argue with that, Jack,” the woman beside him says, and when he looks over at her and laughs, his face completely brightens up.
Shit.
Well, at least I know now that Jack is a ladies’ man.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Last night, when I was talking to him in the bar, he had this incredible way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world. But now, in hindsight, our little connection doesn’t feel so special after all.
I wonder how many women he’s made feel this way.
The moderator moves on to another question, something about the importance of communication and transparency; I keep paying attention, but at the same time, my stomach is in knots. When the panel discussion wraps up, Maya asks me if I want to go say hi to Jack, but I shake my head and say something about how we better get to our next session if we want to grab decent seats.
As the day goes on, I try to focus only on absorbing all the knowledge that’s being shared, but I also can’t help my mind from wandering back to Jack. The more I think about it, the more annoyed I am.
Why did he have to distract me like that?
After our last session for the day, Maya and I find ourselves with the other women we hung out with last night, and once again, we all head to dinner together. As we walk to a nearby restaurant, I find myself hoping that hanging out with all of them again will help get my mind off Jack.
But as fun as they all are, it only helps so much.
And when they suggest hitting the bar again after dinner, I say goodnight to them, telling them I’m going to head back to the hotel.
There’s no way I’m going to risk running into Jack again.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us, Claire?” Maya asks.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say. “I’m just going to head back and relax.”
She must be able to tell that I’m not up for being talked into it tonight, because she just nods.
“Promise me you won’t drink too much tonight,” I say.
Maya grimaces. “Don’t worry. I’m sticking with seltzer.”
I tell the group to have fun, then part ways with them and walk back to the hotel. Up in my room, I collapse onto the bed and just lay there for a while. Eventually, I grab the TV remote and flip through the channels, but I’m not in the mood to watch anything that’s on.
My gaze drifts from the TV, moving over the generic art on the walls, the silver light fixtures, the feather gray wallpaper.
Then my eyes fall on my suitcase lying open in the corner of the room, and I spy the tiniest bit of blue.
My swimsuit.
When I was checking out the hotel’s website before the trip, I saw that they had a gorgeous rooftop pool, so I packed my swimsuit just in case. I knew there was a good chance there wouldn’t be an opportunity to actually use it, but I also figured there wasn’t any harm in coming prepared.
Reinvigorated, I slide off the bed and grab my swimsuit from my luggage.
Chapter Four
Jack
The bar is just as loud and packed as it was the night before.
This time, though, I don’t see Claire anywhere.
