Ethan knocked on my door at nine o’clock the morning of theconference and didn’t wait for an answer before bursting inside. “How do I look?”
I’d never seen him nervous before. I’d also never seen him dressed so sharply, in a blue suit and skinny tie. “Really nice.”
He let out a breath of relief. “Thanks.”
“How are you feeling? Ready?”
Ethan dropped to sit on the foot of my bed. “For all my family to stare at me with the expectation I’m going to mess up any minute? God no.”
“They won’t be thinking that. They’re going to be proud of you.”
“Yeah.” He sounded skeptical. “Should we head out?”
I stifled a laugh, waving at my state of undress—my tank top and shorts. “I’m not exactly ready.”
“Right.” He bounced his hand off his forehead. “I’m a dummy. In my defense, you look great.”
I laughed. “Give me ten and I’ll be down.”
I took twenty because I decided to wrest my hair into a gentle twist and braid it over one shoulder. I’d selected my outfit ages ago, an old favorite I’d thrifted back home: a black dress with golden stars embellished on it. I had earrings to match, and I’d saved a silky golden strip of ribbon from a present I’d once received and now wore it as a headband.
It wasn’t often you got a Cinderella-at-the-top-of-the-stairs moment. I hadn’t at prom, where I’d gone with my friends, or for any school dances. I’d never stood at the top of any stairs, someone’s face craned toward me, washed over by amazement.
“Wow,” Ethan said, standing in the foyer and gazing up at me on the second-floor balcony. “You look amazing.”
I grinned down at him. “Thanks.”
“Maybe we should skip this whole thing and stay home?” Ethan asked hopefully, stepping forward and sliding his hands around my waist as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
I gave him a quick peck and slipped away. “Not a chance.”
Ethan tapped his fingers nervously against the wheel as he drove, his whole body vibrating with tension. I placed my hand on his arm, trying to offer some amount of comfort. When we arrived at the resort hosting the conference, Ethan turned the engine off but kept his hands on the wheel, breathing deeply.
“You’re going to do great,” I told him.
He straightened his jacket and his tie. “Yes. Okay.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “But if I need to run, will you be my getaway driver?”
“Yes. But you’re not going to need to run.”
We found the check-in stand, where a sea of laminated nametags greeted us. We put on ours. Ethan looked like he might throw up and kept tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves and taking deep breaths. I took his hand, and he didn’t let go.
People streamed through the venue, dressed in blazers and ironed pants and sheath dresses, and lanyards for all. They crowded around coffee kiosks and strode purposefully down the halls. I didn’t see anyone close to our age, and I felt very young and even a little silly in my star-spangled dress. “Wow,” I said. “Kind of a lot.”
“Yeah.” Ethan tugged at his tie. “Not that many people will be at my talk, right?”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Should we find your dad?” Ethan still sounded unsure of himself.
Honestly, I felt the same. I pulled out my phone. “Definitely.”
Dad was in the speakers’ green room, which turned out to be a large conference room with round tables in the center and a long rectangular table at the front, covered with snacks, coffee, tea, and easily transportable fruit.
“You made it!” Dad said, beaming up at us from his table, where he was chatting with two women and a man.
“Hi,” Ethan said, then couldn’t manage anything else.
“This is my daughter, Jordan.” Dad said. “And my assistant, Ethan.”
