“Okay. Well. You have to get those results to her.” Tony knew he was disappointed, but he understood and approved her need to work hard.
* * *
With one thing or another, Tony and Sheila weren’t able to see each other until another three weeks had elapsed. This third date turned into another trip to the Stanford campus, again via bicycle. Because Stanford was Sheila’s alma mater, Sheila wanted to take her on a tour. Tony didn’t mind Sheila taking charge of the planning. It was restful for her to not have to think.
Tony said, “I have this image of Stanford and its students as nerds—Republican nerds.”
Sheila laughed. “Well, you’ll find enough of those types around, but you must be thinking of Herbert Hoover and the Hoover Institution. When I think of Berkeley, I think of protest. Surely, though, the Berkeley students do more studying than protesting?”
“We call it Cal,” Tony said, automatically. “Yes, there are a lot of protests, but they involve a small fraction of the students. I, for one, wasn’t into it. I’m not political. I used to avoid the tables and the pamphlet-waving people when I crossed Sproul Plaza.”
“Well, so much for my stereotyping. As for me, I’m not a Republican.” Sheila’s eyes sparkled. “But I certainly am a football fan, and as you probably know, Stanford and Cal have a long-time rivalry.”
“Uh, I may have heard something about that,” Tony said lightly, but she truly had no interest in football, college or otherwise.
“You never went to the Big Game? Thanksgiving weekend? Stanford marching band?”
“Nope.”
Sheila seemed disappointed and dismayed. “Well, this will never work.”
“What will never work?” Tony thought she knew what Sheila meant, and she was alarmed.
“Us. You and me.” Sheila appeared solemn.
Tony was speechless and crestfallen. She didn’t know what she wanted exactly, but it seemed like Sheila thought they were an “us” that wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m kidding,” Sheila said after looking at Tony’s face. “I was joking.”
“Oh. Good to know.” Tony was relieved but made her voice sound neutral.
“You don’t know when I’m teasing, do you? Sheila asked.
“No.” Tony felt silly. “I guess I don’t.”
“Okay. I’ll watch out for that,” Sheila said, gently. “I can take you to a game this fall, if you want to go, that is.” She was peering at Tony.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Tony realized that she did want to go to a game with Sheila.
“Terrific. Come on. Let me show you the campus.” She touched Tony’s arm.
They’d dismounted their bikes near the entrance to the Stanford campus, just past the medical center, and Tony watched Sheila leap onto her bike and start pedaling away. Tony hastily climbed on her rental bicycle and followed her.
As they rode around, Tony couldn’t help but compare Stanford to Cal. The Stanford campus, enormous and spread out, had a huge number of stucco buildings with red-tile roofs. Many people rode bicycles, which was clearly the most efficient way to get around, for there were far more bicycles than Tony remembered from Cal. Sheila stopped to point out her former dorm and the building that housed the economics department, where she’d spent a great deal of time as an undergrad, the student union, etc. Sheila’s love of her alma mater charmed Tony more than the alma mater itself did.
For lunch, Sheila chose the Coffee House in the student union. Sheila directed her to leave her bike at the rack.
“Is it safe?”
“Yeah. For sure.”
“I’d be worried about leaving my bike unlocked if I was in either the City or in Berkeley.”
“I’m locking mine, but yours isn’t that special.”
“Right.” Tony had to grin at Sheila’s dismissal of her rental bicycle. Thousands of bicycles were sitting around, most of them unlocked.
The café carried a generic name, but the food was good. Tony couldn’t recall a comparable place on the Cal campus. They ordered sandwiches and sat outside at picnic tables.
“I’m not one of those people who thinks their undergrad days were the best ever and nothing since has measured up. I just happen to like Stanford, especially the way it looks.”
“I see that.” Tony was more amused than anything else. Stanford was a grand university that thought very well of itself, but then again, Cal was also a famous university with its own institutional ego. It was just famous for different reasons.
Tony said, finally, “You know that Cal is one of the hardest public universities in the US to get into. All the UC campuses are.”
Sheila smiled slightly. “Yes, I know that. Stanford is…unique.”
“As you and I are different, not better or worse,” Tony said with a touch of attitude.
Sheila’s grin widened. “And we are getting to know each other.”
Tony’s slight pique dissipated, and she grinned back at Sheila.
After lunch they headed over to the Hoover Institution, and again, Sheila insisted on paying the admission. Tony thought it was sort of wacko that a university would charge admission to one of its own buildings, but she didn’t say so.
In the lobby, Tony read about the building itself and the Hoover Institution, so she understood better what it was and how it came to be. It was part of Stanford but separate. Herbert Hoover, what little Tony knew of him, was a Republican who had been president when the Great Depression started and was forever associated with that time period. He had, however, an earlier career as a humanitarian who helped refugees. That made Tony think better of him.
“This is what I really wanted you to see,” Sheila said in a suddenly shy manner. They had entered an elevator and were going up a few floors.
When the elevator door opened, they entered a deck that offered three hundred-and-sixty-five-degree views of the campus and, to the northeast, the City of San Francisco, shimmering in the haze beyond the San Mateo Bridge.
From above, Tony could see there was more variation to the architecture on the Stanford campus than she’d originally thought. But Sheila’s face in profile was the best view. Her hair was a bit disheveled from the bike helmet, and she was slightly flushed, much as she might look when just getting out of bed after sex. Tony started to flush herself, thinking about that.
“It’s nice up here,” she said to Sheila to cover her unease, but she meant it.
“Really? You think so?” Sheila’s uncertainty, a huge contrast to her usual aplomb, was amusingly unexpected.
“I do. Yeah.” Tony looked out at the view and then back to Sheila again. Both of their expressions turned serious, and they fell quiet.
“I had my first kiss with a girl up here. It was at night after a party. We were both a little tipsy. The stars, the night, the view…you know.” Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality as she recalled the occasion.
Sheila looked over Tony’s shoulder behind her and then to their right, back toward the interior of the tower and the bells that gave the tower its name.
She took Tony’s face in her hands and kissed her on the mouth, not hard but firmly and for a much longer time than she had before, and Tony closed her eyes and gave herself over to the experience. The sound of voices caused them to abruptly disengage. Tony was left with the impression of Sheila’s lips, the smell of sunscreen on her cheeks, and a great many physical sensations in parts of her body she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her stomach clenched, but in a pleasant fashion, and her crotch tingled. They turned as one and pretended to look at the view as the strangers who had emerged from the elevator milled around them.
“Have you seen enough? Ready to head back downstairs?” Sheila’s voice wasn’t obviously shaking, but Tony could detect a tiny tremor. It could be her imagination. She hoped not. She hoped Sheila had been gripped by similar feelings because of their kiss.
Tony realized that Sheila asked her questions all the time, not intrusive ones, but there were always at least two, and
all aimed at taking Tony’s emotional temperature. Sheila wanted to know how she was doing, how she was feeling. Did she need something to change? Tony had never experienced this level of concern, this sort of attentiveness. It was unnerving but flattering and could possibly become addicting.
She could only nod in response since her head was still woozy from their kiss.
Down at ground level, and back outside the Hoover Institution, they sat on a bench in a redwood grove, where they were shielded from the intense late-afternoon summer sun. After such a forward kiss, Sheila had retreated to a passive mien. It seemed to invite Tony to move forward, and she did, in a mild way, scooting over until their thighs touched.
“Thanks for showing me all this. I really like it, and I like that we aren’t discussing GHS. I like to talk about work, but not all the time.”
Sheila had been staring at the trees around them, which Tony didn’t find unusual. The strong currents flowing between them had unnerved Tony and possibly Sheila too, so they had to take a short break, disengage somewhat.
She turned and looked directly at Tony and slowly smiled.
“I didn’t want you to be bored. And I hoped you didn’t mind the kiss. I wanted to do it in the bell tower because…it’s one of my favorite places.”
Tony said firmly, “I’m not bored, and yes, I liked the kiss. I like you.”
“Oh, good. I hope so. I have to say I wasn’t clear whether you did. I kind of thought you did, but you’re—”
“I’m reserved? Self-contained?”
“Yes to both. Not that anything’s wrong with that. I like it, really.”
“I’m glad you do because it doesn’t mean I’m disinterested. Not at all.”
“I know you aren’t. You’re not in a rush, and I’m willing to be patient because Buddha counsels patience above all. Especially if you don’t want to go through life in a constant state of stress.” Sheila looked closely at Tony, her meaning clear.
“I suppose that’s true. I wish I was more patient,” Tony said, thinking of their lab project and the emotional toll it took as she tried to meet Erica’s expectations.
“You appear quite patient.”
“That’s how I like to appear. But I’m not. And patience is only one thing I like to project when I’m not feeling it.”
“Oh?” Sheila turned to put her elbow on the back of the bench to prop her head on her hand and stare at Tony.
“Yes. I want to look like you don’t intimidate me, when in fact, you do.”
“Really? Why?” Two questions. As soon as she’d admitted her thoughts to Sheila, she wanted to retract them. Too late.
“You’re…different. I don’t know. I’ve, eh, never gone out with someone like you.”
“What am I like? Am I scary? Too forward? Too controlling?”
“No. Not that.” Oh boy, was she in trouble. If she wasn’t honest, Sheila would know. If she said what she really thought, Sheila would likely be offended.
“You’re…sophisticated, easy with people.” Tony guessed that was a safe and true observation, though it wasn’t the whole truth.
“And you? You’re a science type—not overly social and kind of introverted. What’s wrong with either?”
Sheila had her on that question. Tony’s sense of inferiority had always made her view her personality as negative.
“Yes. I’m sort of shy and not very articulate.”
“Ah, but you say a great deal more than you think. You don’t take anything lightly or for granted. You’re a deeply serious person. I think you don’t expend your time frivolously on just anyone. I’m honored when you let me see you and spend time with you and get to know you.”
“I’m glad,” Tony said. “I like spending time with you.”
Sheila grinned. “So, we’re in agreement?”
“Well, yes.”
“Fabulous. I’m going to do this again.” Sheila kissed her. It felt wonderful, but Tony fought to tamp down her inclination to pull away. That instinct to withdraw came from having no physical contact for years. She could get back in practice, though, with Sheila.
“What now?” Sheila asked.
“Um, have I seen everything you want me to see?”
“Oh, you. Too funny. I don’t think you’ve seen everything.”
“No, I haven’t.” Tony was happy that sentence came out even and calm, though that wasn’t how she felt. Sheila had packed that little word with hidden, provocative meaning.
“Well, then, shall I take you back to the train station?” Sheila’s question sounded like that was the very last thing she wanted do.
“Yes, please. That would be nice.”
As they sat in the car, Sheila was quiet and contemplative.
“Next time we see each other, I’d like to come to San Francisco and do something.”
“Okay. What do you want to do?” Tony meant it.
“Oh, I’m up for almost anything. Pick whatever you’d like. It’s San Francisco, so there must be zillions of choices.”
“Right, sure. I can do that.” This time Tony leaned forward to meet Sheila halfway, and Sheila’s expression when they’d concluded their kiss was a mixture of satisfaction and triumph.
Tony tried as hard as she could to not feel like she’d been handed an arduous chore of choosing an outing in San Francisco, though it certainly felt that way. This ought not, as Sheila said, be a difficult thing. Tony could plan something fun for the two of them to do. It was a cinch that whatever it turned out to be, Sheila would like it. She was that sort of person, not demanding or particular, but relaxed and open to experience. Tony was attracted to that quality, but at the same time, it put pressure on her that she struggled not to be overwhelmed by. It’s not rocket science. She grinned at the thought. Dating is supposed to be enjoyable, not a problem to solve.
Chapter Five
When Sheila told Roy that Erica had blown off her offer of business help, Roy shrugged, unconcerned.
“She feels like she’s got it all covered, and you know how she wouldn’t like any outsiders discovering any details about the product.”
“Yes, Dad. I am well aware of that possibility. But even the cockiest software entrepreneur has agreed to use our services. Remember Grant Wilhelm? He had an ego the size of the SF Bay, but he told me the marketing consultant we sent him made a profound difference in his approach. And his company was one of our big successes. Huge IPO.”
“I remember, but so? Erica’s different. Don’t worry about it. She must be doing something right. At the last board meeting, she told us she’s going to sign a contract with the Veterans Administration to put Leonardo in all the VA hospitals in the country. Government contracts? Ca-ching.” Roy imitated the sound of an old-fashioned cash register.
“Right. Did she give you the details of this deal or any of the other ones she’s talked about? The agreements with the pharma companies, any of them?”
“She says the contracts are being reviewed by the lawyers. By the way, she’s hired one of the biggest law firms in California. And she said the most famous advertising agency in the world is working on their marketing plan for the roll-out of Leonardo.” Erica evidently always thought in superlatives. Sheila wondered about the psychology behind that. Overcompensation? Whatever.
“That’s all terrific news. You’re saying the board knows what she’s up to, and it’s all good.”
“Hell, yeah. If it wasn’t, I sure would say something, but we have to be diplomatic with Erica. Imagine how much doubt and nay-saying she has to put up with. You know, better than me, how sexist the Valley is. It still is. As a young woman she gets a lot of crap. I don’t think anyone on the board wants to add to that.”
Sheila smiled. Her dad as a feminist ally. How far he’d evolved. She suspected, though, that his new-found feminism and maybe that of the other board members was only skin deep. If Erica hadn’t been beautiful, how much attention would the men of her dad’s generation really pay? It was an imponderable question,
and since Sheila wasn’t going to ask him, it seemed pointless to speculate.
“Right, well, if you’re satisfied, then I’m fine. By the way, did she ever snag someone with a medical background to join the board?”
“Yep. She has this senator. Finley, I think. He used to be an MD.”
“Well, that’s good.” Sheila went on to discuss other investment prospects with Roy. GHS was moving forward, and Pacific Partners needed to get more business, which was mostly easy to do. The start-ups knocked on their door, and they could choose who to fund.
* * *
“I like this museum a lot,” Tony said as they parked Sheila’s Volt. “For one thing, the location is unbelievable, and their exhibits are eclectic but mostly European, and I like that.”
“What’s this?” Sheila asked as they walked from the parking lot toward the museum
“Holocaust Memorial.” Tony said.
They stopped in front of the white figures behind barbed wire and looked quietly for a moment.
“I didn’t know this was here,” Sheila said.
“Yeah. I don’t think it’s well known. Come on. I want to show you something quick before we go to the museum.”
“Yikes, it’s chilly.” Sheila complained, mildly. She pulled her cardigan sweater closed.
“I told you it would be. It’s July,” Tony said, reproving her gently. “But…look.”
They had reached the road leading past the museum and could see the Golden Gate Bridge, a wreath of fog on its orange towers.
“This is the Lincoln Park Golf Course. It’s got to have one of the best views of any golf course in the world.”
“That it does.” Sheila moved closer to Tony, seeking warmth. They stood for a moment looking at the bridge and the Marin hills.
“I’d have a hard time with being this cold in summer,” Sheila said. “It’s better in Palo Alto.”
“I know. Down here is something pretty cool.”
They approached a large block of polished granite with both English and Chinese writing. Beyond lay the Pacific Ocean.
“Shanghai is San Francisco’s sister city,” Tony said. “I love that. Considering how SF treated Chinese people in the nineteenth century, this is something.”
Trade Secrets Page 7
