"Oh, I gotcha. You from out of town?"
I nod again.
"Welcome to Austin! I hope you have a great time, once you've had a chance to rest up."
"Thanks," I tell her, sincerely. Because it really is nice to hear a friendly voice, even from a stranger.
I hear a familiar voice over the noise of the crowd, and it makes my heart skip several beats. Which is completely ridiculous. I know he's here, but what are the odds? Sure enough, moments later, I see Adrian round the corner with Kara. Immediately, I avert my gaze, feeling awkward and guilty like I've done something wrong.
They're seated where I can just about see them, out of the corner of my eye. Something about the angle must be blocking their view of me. Kara looks very put-together as usual, but relaxed and smiling in a way I'm sure she wouldn't be if she spotted me. I've got no idea what her problem is - like I could possibly compete for Adrian's attention with the likes of her. He once claimed he wasn't interested, but I don't believe that for a second. A woman who looks like her, she gets any man she wants.
And right now, she's got Adrian. He's listening to her with rapt attention, smiling occasionally, even laughing. Having a good time.
When the server brings me my beer, I ask her for the check. I've got to get out of here before I lose what little is left of my mind.
***
After a fitful night's sleep, I take a long, scalding shower and actually blow-dry my hair. Usually, this backfires, but I manage to tame it into something presentable. I know it's going to be a long day. After the signing, which is the only part of this event that's open to non-industry people, there will be panel presentations and workshops I'm expected to attend, not to mention the after-hours events. I've got no idea what I'll be expected to attend, but I'm bracing myself.
I haven't heard anything from Adrian since yesterday afternoon, but I've already checked out the conference schedule and I know where and when I need to report for the signing. If he doesn't want to show up, then he doesn't have to. I'll just improvise.
I stop by the mirror on my way out the door. Yeah, I look pretty damn good. Professional, but imaginative. Perfect. Every part of my outfit is absolutely flawless. I wouldn't change a thing.
When I leave my room and start walking down the hallway, a problem becomes immediately apparent.
There's one thing I didn't realize about silky underwear.
Veterans of the silky underwear experience will almost certainly be aware of this, but I'm a virgin. Metaphorically speaking.
Ten steps into the hotel hallway, and I can feel them slipping. Oh, shit. Unlike the plain cotton variety I'm used to, these don't really stay where they're put.
But I'm fully committed. I brought nothing but silky underwear for this trip, and I'm going full speed ahead, damn it.
I breathe a silent prayer of thanks that I'm alone in the elevator, so I can discreetly adjust them. They've slipped so far down that they're practically garters. Shimmying a little, I pull them up so they're sitting more securely on my waist.
There. That'll do.
Halfway to the main convention hall, I've transitioned into some kind of weird shuffle-step to keep them from falling around my ankles.
Well, this is just great. I slip into the ladies' room and survey the situation a little better. They're practically brand new, for God's sake. The elastic is still…elastic-y. What am I doing wrong?
I know the answer, I just don't want to admit it to myself. The softness of my belly and thighs doesn't give them anything to grip onto. This is not a skinny girl's problem.
Frustrated, I consider my options. I could ditch the underwear entirely, and pray that I don't step near any air vents. I could keep trying to make them work. Or, I could try to find the nearest Walmart and grab a three dollar pack of cotton briefs.
Fuck no. You're Natalie Fucking McBride. You make these panties your bitch.
Determined, I re-situate them on my hips and return to the main hall. Already, I can feel them working their way down, but I can deal with it. I'll be sitting down for most of the day, anyway.
I know what quadrant of the room I'll be in, so I start heading that direction, walking as carefully as I can.
Before I reach the tables, I have to pinch the waistband to hold them in place. I grab a handful of my skirt along with them, and pretend like I'm holding it down against some imaginary breeze.
A woman with long, silky dark hair and an accommodating smile comes over to shake my hand. Her name tag says Siobhan.
"Welcome, Natalie," she says. "We're so glad to have you here. Your editor's already here, he's been helping us set everything up the way you like."
So he is. I see him now, in the crowd, and he narrows his eyes as I approach. Probably because I'm holding the side of my skirt again, to cover up for the fact that I'm actually holding my panties. Whether or not he's clued in to the impending wardrobe malfunction, he knows something is wrong. But there's no way in hell I'm confiding in him about my panty problems.
I sit down quickly, hitching them up as I do, hoping it's not noticeable.
"There's already a line forming around the entire hall," Siobhan beams. "Most of them are here for you."
A terrifying prospect, to be sure.
"Don't worry, we'll manage the lines and make sure that no one hassles you. Take breaks whenever you need them. You'll be talking a lot, so it's not uncommon to start losing your voice by the end of the day. I got you some Halls, but I recommend hot tea with lots of lemon and honey before bed tonight."
I nod, trying to take it all in. I haven't even considered the possibility of losing my voice - that might get in the way of my panel tomorrow.
"Most importantly, have fun!" She's practically squealing. "You're going to love this, Natalie. I'm so glad you came."
I force a smile, hoping that my awkwardness comes across as…well, awkwardness. Not deception. The last thing I want to do is fuck up this thing. Adrian's already boring holes in me with his eyes.
"What's wrong?" he mutters, as Siobhan runs off to settle someone else in.
"Nothing," I tell him, rolling my shoulders back and cracking my knuckles. "Why would something be wrong?"
"First of all, you shouldn't wear a skirt that short if you're going to act like you're afraid it's going to fly up." His voice is low and captivating, even though he's trying to tell me off. Or maybe that's why it's captivating. "It's like wearing a strapless dress and constantly tugging on it. Looks amateur. You don't want to look amateur."
"Who pissed in your Cheerios?" I mutter, even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer. Kara's nowhere to be found. They must've had some kind of disagreement that's led to his enchanting mood this morning.