by L. Steele
"Your grandmother, your father's mother, was called Tara too. It means 'star'. You were the light of their lives."
I bow my head, humbled by the love and affection I feel in his voice for my family, for the little girl I was.
We stay quiet for a few more minutes. Then Neil asks, "You can use the money, can't you?"
I bark out a laugh.
The thought hadn't even crossed my mind, not till now. In everything that's happened the last week, I'd almost forgotten about what I'd left behind in the Valley. But now, with Anja gone, there's nothing left between me and the future I have to face.
"Yes," I say, an idea forming. "Yes, I can.".
I was going to use the money, and not only to pay off my debts and secure Bella's future.
But even the money doesn't prepare me for what's to come next.
39
Sienna
* * *
A month later, Silicon Valley
After leaving Bombay, I returned to Silicon Valley, determined to pay off my debts and start anew. I'd asked Neil to stay on as caretaker of the family home in Bombay, and he'd agreed. He's also the tie that binds me to my home country and I'd promised to visit again. Soon.
The first thing I'd done with my inheritance was to return Jace's loan of half a million. Had trembled even as I'd sent off the bank transfer, wondering if it would make him contact me.
But nothing.
Silence.
I'd been both relieved yet also disappointed. Had hoped he'd respond to seeing the money. That he'd track me down, come storming inside my new office, and ask me why I'd left him so suddenly.
After that incredible night together.
The feel of his skin on mine.
His fingers tracing a path down my waist, down toward my core. To where I'd felt empty since.
Stupid.
* * *
"Sienna."
Eric, Jace's ex-partner, walks into our shared office. He'd contacted me a week after my return with a proposal to work together. I'd been unsure about it at first. And not because of his connection with Jace.
But I know Eric likes me.
And yet, his suggestion of using his business acumen to help turn around my company was something I couldn't turn down.
Besides, Jace had trusted him. And that was enough for me.
Or maybe partnering with Eric was my way of holding onto a tenuous connection with Jace.
"You headed out?" He asks from across the boxes still strewn on the floor. We'd moved into this office a few weeks ago.
"What is it?" I ask, pausing on my way to the door.
Forehead creased, eyes narrowed, he looks from his phone to me, then back at the screen.
The concern on his face has me heading to him.
I hold out my hand.
"Perhaps this can wait till you are back?" His voice tapers off, but he still doesn't hand it over.
"It can't be that bad," I say, a half smile on my face.
He doesn't reply. And that's enough to make me reach out and take the phone from him.
My heart stutters, before it slams into my chest and begins to thud so hard I hear the blood pumping in my ears.
My fingers tighten on the phone and I stare at the screen.
A YouTube video. It shows a boy approaching a girl. They begin to kiss. Passionate. The angle of the video such that it's clear they are equal participants.
No, no, no, it can't be.
My heart already knows even as my brain is registering and discarding what I see.
The boy steps back. They speak. This time the camera gives a clear view of her face.
It's me.
A much younger me, with a fringe. Hair curling at the end.
I watch her face the screen bare-breasted, her nipples clearly seen on camera. He takes off his T-shirt, steps close. They kiss again. His hand fixes on her breast. The video freezes, and we sit in silence for a few seconds.
"Sienna."
Eric puts his hand on my shoulder but I don't notice. My knees threaten to give out from under me.
Still clutching the phone, I walk to the large arm chairs by the window, sink into one.
Eric follows, sitting down in the other.
"That is you, isn't it?" He asks, voice hesitant.
I cringe, but don't say anything, my eyes still playing the images in my head.
"Fuck."
"Who did this?" He asks.
I force myself to meet his eyes, cheeks flushing at how he'd seen me in the video. No shirt, and in the throes of passion.
No judgment on his face. His eyes are clear. All I see is concern for me.
A breath I'd not been aware of holding rushes out.
I'm biting my nails again, but this time don't stop myself.
"Tom" I reply.
"Natalie's friend?"
I nod. Unable to sit still, I jump to my feet, and begin to pace back and forth.
"I can't believe that bastard released the video." I can't seem to stop swearing.
Then a thought strikes me, "How many people have already seen it?"
He holds out his hand and I hand over the phone to him.
"50,000 views and counting," He replies. "50,001. 50,020. 50,050."
He looks up, face pale.
It's rising exponentially.
"It was uploaded 10 minutes ago," Eric adds in response to my unspoken question.
"How did you find out?"
"Email," he says evenly.
Walking to my table, I place my handbag next to me. Hunkering down behind the computer screen, I scroll down my email inbox till I come to one from a name I don't recognize. A Larry Smith, and the subject simply says:
TED: This video will change your life.
Clever.
TED—Technology, Entertainment, Design—an organization known for inspirational videos. Exactly the kind of video everyone in Silicon Valley would open.
I am sure the email has gone out to everyone I know. Everyone in my address book.
"He hacked me," I say, voice bitter.
"Can he do that?" Eric frowns.
"No other explanation. The irony is that he's a lawyer. He knows how to cover himself. I’m sure he's hidden his tracks and I'll never be able to trace it to him. But he's the only one who has this video. Besides, he threatened me."
"He threatened you?" Eric walks up to me, leans his hip against the desk. "At the wedding? Did he know you were going to be there?"
"No, he came to attend Natalie's wedding. But when he saw me, found I was with Jace, he saw his chance. He was in debt, wanted money. I refused to pay."
I'm talking aloud more for my own benefit, so I can rationalize what happened here.
"I'd no idea he'd filmed it," I say.
We both look to the email with the frozen image of me on screen. I slam the laptop shut, then bury my head in my hands.
"It's not a big deal," I mutter.
I don't sound convincing, even to myself.
I've seen worse, of course. Sex videos are common; you'd never give it a second thought. Except when you're featured in one of them.
My phone pings a reminder. I need to leave now to arrive in time for the conference I was headed to.
I must go, and yet my body refuses to cooperate. I clench my fists, as my heart begins to beat at the thought of leaving this room. Everyone I know must have received this video. They'll know it was me. Worse, strangers will have seen it to. And now, I must face them.
"Want me to come with you?" Eric asks.
When I hesitate, he adds, "Moral support. That's all."
The breath whooshes out of me.
"No," I shake my head. "I need to face this. I was never one to run and hide."
"You are one of the most courageous persons I know." His voice is serious enough to focus my attention, take my mind off the video. "You were determined to make it on your own steam. And look at you." He gestures to the space around us, "You've arrived."
Yeah. I
gesture to the video. "When you have a sex video on YouTube, you really have arrived."
He chuckles at that, and a reluctant smile tugs at my lips.
"At least I haven't lost my sense of humor."
"You're strong. You'd have to be to come this far." Leaning close Eric takes my hand in his.
I don't pull away. It feels wrong to do so. Not when he's been so understanding and patient.
His eyes shine with kindness, and hope. Warm, brown eyes. Nothing like the silver-green ones that rob me of breath.
"Eric." My reluctance gets through to him.
"So, no? I don't stand a chance, do I?"
Both of us look at the ring I'm still wearing.
Jace's ring.
Yeah, I can't bring myself to take it off.
I flush, can't trust myself to speak. If only I could love Eric, things would be so simple. Instead, I've lost my heart to a man with whom I don't have a future. One I'd left stranded in the worst way possible.
"I'm sorry."
Placing his hands on my shoulders, he kisses my forehead. "Don't be," he says. "Friends?"
I nod, hug him back.
He steps away from the desk, "Go now. Or you'll be late."
Picking up my bag once more, I walk to the door.
"I'll email YouTube and get the video removed." His voice follows me.
"Thanks, Eric."
His thoughtfulness only makes me feel worse. Why can't I fall in love with Eric? He'll be safe, secure.
Boring.
I can never resist bad boys. And Jace is as macho as they come. Besides, the chemistry with Jace ... I'll never have that with anyone else. Tears prick my eyes and I blink them away.
Turning, I leave, slamming the door behind me. Reaching the parking garage, I slide into the driver's seat. But I'm unable to start the car.
I'm not ready yet to face the world, not like this. Banging my fists on the steering wheel, I finally give vent to my anger.
40
Jace
* * *
Jace looks up from the last row of the conference room in the less fashionable part of Silicon Valley. The space is packed with hopefuls eager to make their pitch. A chance to get funding for their dream project is why so many are locked in this basement room that smells of coffee and take-out pizza. While a Frenchman in a sharp suit speaks from the makeshift platform.
"There’s no shortage of enthusiasm and ideas in the Valley," he says. "Things have been frothy, and you see a lot of dumb money. But the music’s going to stop and not a lot of people will have a chair." He crosses his arms, standing on the makeshift podium. His eyes swivel from one corner of the room to the other, making sure he makes enough eye contact to have everyone's attention. "There will be dead bodies. And blood."
The last word is drawn out. An exaggerated, sinister tone, which sends a titter through the audience of fifty start-ups.
Kids.
The average age of the crowd is twenty, or maybe twenty-five. Jace realizes he is the oldest in the room.
A man in the audience asks a question, drawing his attention back to the room.
Nowadays, most anyone with a half-baked idea seems to make a beeline to the Valley, pitching their ideas to investors, trying to raise their first $100,000 to get their start-up off the ground. Hungry kids, happy to sleep six to a two-bedroom apartment, all firm in the belief that it will be worth it in the end.
Little do they know what they are getting into.
Everyone talks about winning in the Valley. No one speaks about those who go from having everything to nothing. Like him.
After Sienna had left, Jace had turned up at Natalie's wedding. Darren had noticed Sienna's absence, of course.
Yet, Jace had waited till the next day, till the festivities had died down and Natalie had left for her honeymoon, before giving his father the news. He'd surprised Jace. He wasn't going to disinherit him. Not yet. He was giving Jace one last chance to redeem himself.
Six months more to find a woman and settle down.
Only, Jace knows the one woman he wants is never going to agree to marry him.
Ironically, the money that Sienna returned to his account had thrown him a lifeline. But even that hadn't been enough. Sienna's debts were miniscule compared to the billion he needed to save his sinking firm.
Jace had used the money to buy out Eric's share in the company. A deal completed by email―strictly business.
Now he has nothing.
Nothing except his ability to speak and convince. That is why he's here. To pitch his idea for a start-up.
On the proverbial other side of the table.
Jace curls his fingers into fists at his side, his muscles tensing. It had taken a lot of courage to turn up here. But he knows he must do it. It's time he surfaced and faced the real world. Put the mistakes he's made so far behind him, and move on. He'd been cocky, and proud, and sure that he'd succeed. He'd never even entertained the thought of things going wrong.
Never thought I'd fall for Sienna either.
Jace is not giving up, though.
He's always known his Silicon Valley sojourn was fraught with risks. Only he'd always known his inheritance was a fallback.
But not this time.
This time he's determined to make it under his own steam. Once he'd made up his mind about that, it'd almost been a relief. He hadn't realized how much his father's money had been holding him back, not till he'd made this decision to break free of it.
Perhaps Sienna leaving him had been a blessing in disguise. It'd given him the opportunity to re-evaluate what he'd become. Eric's leaving had hit him hard. He shouldn’t have let his friend go.
He shouldn't have let Sienna leave either. He should have told her how he'd felt about her. He'd also not reached out to Karina and the guys since his return.
Me and my damned pride.
But Jace is determined to rebuild his business, find his future first.
He needed one pitch to go right.
Jace knows sometimes the difference between success and failure is a moment. A second and everything could change. All he has is hope.
The Frenchman has finished speaking, when the door at the back of the room bangs shut. The clap of heels is barely muffled by the fading carpet, as someone rushes up the room toward the podium.
Sienna mounts the steps up to the stage. Her pencil-skirt stretches across her flared hips. Slim thighs, a gently curved ankle.
"Sorry I'm late," she says.
Breath coming out in short gasps from her hurried walk to the podium. Her breasts, clad in the white shirt, move up and down, drawing attention to the skin of her throat sweeping up toward her oval face.
Strong jaw line. Stubborn. Distinctive.
It's her.
He'd been thinking of her not a second ago, and here she is.
Familiar eyes blaze a molten-amber as she walks onto the platform.
For a second, Jace is tempted to get up and leave. But he knows that will only call more attention to himself.
Besides, this is his last chance.
After being turned down by close to fifty—fifty—investors, this open pitch is all that lies between him and complete humiliation. If he doesn't get this money today, he'd have no choice but pack up and leave for London.
For good.
He'd have to admit defeat, go back to his father, beg for money. Even the thought of doing so stiffens his spine.
No, he's going to have to stay, and pitch.
To Sienna.
Even as he's thinking it, Jace risks looking up to catch another glimpse of her. Her hair shorter, cut differently so it frames her face, softening her jaw line.
He glances down at his jeans and hoodie. Over the past month of pounding pavement and pitching for investments, he'd realized it was best to play the part of the down-and-out of luck investor. It didn't help if he turned up for a meeting in a tailor-made suit reeking of old money.
Most people had met him more out of
personal curiosity. For a chance to gloat over his downturn, to get back at whatever he'd snubbed them for in his better days.
The biggest snub he's sure is yet to come, when he pitches to Sienna.
And the irony of the situation hits him afresh. The change of sides is startling, as if it were all some cosmic joke. Not that he'd ever believed in fate or a higher power.
But sitting there, his ass already smarting from being cramped into the cheap bucket seat, his knees squashed into the tiny space in front, he wonders if someone up there isn't having the last laugh at him.
On stage, Sienna apologizes to the Frenchman, who kisses her on both cheeks before beckoning her to take her place.
He turns to the next team, asks them to pitch their idea.
Jace can't take his eyes off Sienna. She looks so different. Is it the grooming? The clothes? Or something more?
No, it's the confidence.
It's there in the tilt of her head, her spine straight, legs crossed showing those shapely feet in pencil-thin heels.
Seeing the turn of her ankle starts a slow burn inside him, and he clamps down on it.
The man next to him touches his arm, and he jumps.
Leaning in, the younger guy, dressed in a similar uniform of hoodie and jeans says, "Quite something, isn't she? A real hottie. She has guts too. You need to be damn strong to look the crowd in the eye, despite everything that's happened today."
His tone sparks of a feeling of possessiveness inside. A burning desire to punch the guy in the face has Jace curling his fists at his side.
No, he's not over Sienna. Not by a long shot.
If anything, seeing her after all this time only sends a pulse of heat racing through him. He's missed her more than he'd realized.
Then his brain registers what the man said.
"What do you mean? Guts?" Jace asks, still not taking his eyes off Sienna, who's now listening intently to the team pitching. Something about "tribespotting, meeting locals who share a passion for similar kinds of coffee".
The other man's voice turns suggestive.
"You mean you haven't seen the video?" The man chuckles.
