by Camy Tang
Finally, the hostess saw Venus’s gyrations and turned to speak sharply to a waiter lounging by the cash register. Great. Of course they’d get the one slacker waiter in the restaurant.
“Whatchoo want?” He dug out a scuffed writing pad from his back pocket.
They ordered. Venus threw in a dish of dau miu, sautéed pea greens, to appease the guilt nagging at her for her carb- and fat-laden meal.
“Ha!” Lex chortled. “You can’t even eat junk food when you’re upset.”
“Vegetables keep me regular,” Venus growled.
“Don’t talk to me about regularity.” Trish pouted. “This baby is throwing my whole system out of whack.”
“So.” Jenn leaned forward onto the glass-topped table. “Are you going to quit?”
“If you want to enact revenge, you can leave in the middle of a big project.” Lex gave a feral grin.
“I can’t quit. I need the money.”
Lex’s look was a cross between Are you kidding me? and Are you stupid? “You have tons of money.”
“Jaye and I want to start our own company, and we’re still working on that development tool. I can’t be unemployed and live on nothing while we’re completing it. Who knows how long it’ll take? I also might need the money for starting up the company, if we can’t get investors.”
“Oh.” Trish chewed the inside of her lip. “When is your software going to be ready?”
Venus pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead. “I think Oomvid tried to steal it.”
“What?” Lex exploded.
Jenn laid a hand on Lex’s arm, but spoke to Venus. “What do you mean?”
“Last night, I came home and my door was open. You know that junior programmer who’s replacing me?—he was coming out of my condo. He said he’d come by to drop off some ‘sensitive’ papers, so he looked under the doormat and found a key.”
“Yeah, right.” Lex crossed her arms. “Did he really give you the papers?”
“Actually…” Venus sighed. “After the meeting today, the CFO asked if I’d gotten the folder that Yardley had Edgar drop off at my place. So apparently Edgar was telling the truth about the papers.”
“Did he take anything?” Trish asked.
“I think he went through my desk, and there were scratches on my safe showing where he might have tried to break into it.”
All four of them got very quiet. The babbling conversations from other tables in the restaurant swirled in between them, mixed with the clinking of utensils and the calls of waiters to the kitchen.
“Think about this logically,” Jenn said. “Why would they try to steal your program, and then make you quit?”
“The Board of Directors met yesterday afternoon. They’d already decided on Edgar as the new Game Lead before he was at my home last night.”
“So they want you to quit,” Lex said, “but they wanted a shot at getting your software before you go. Because they were probably scared you’d turn in your resignation right when you got the news.”
“I would have, but…”
“Why in the world would you want to stay at such a creepy place?” Trish started handing out the long plastic chopsticks from the holder at the table.
“Because they’re paying me a lot.” Venus took her pair and wiped them down with her paper napkin. Her dad always taught her that she couldn’t be too careful when the chopsticks were sitting out at the tables like this, but she soon figured out it wasn’t just her dad’s sense of cleanliness—everyone wiped their chopsticks and spoons when they were taken from the table kiosk.
She saw the waiter swing into view, making a determined beeline toward them. Finally. “Food’s coming.”
The waiter dumped the plates onto the table, splashing the women with hot grease from each of their entrees before whisking away.
“Hey, we need more tea…” Trish raised the empty teapot, but he’d already darted out of earshot.
Jenn scowled. “I don’t care how upset you are. Next time, we’re going to Union or Golden Dragon. This place is the armpit of Chinese restaurants.”
Venus didn’t think she’d want to come back here for another few years—this was her grease quota for the decade. But oh, that smelled so good.
“Jenn, you pray.” Lex nudged her.
Jenn’s husky voice gave a long, heartfelt grace. Venus bowed her head but didn’t listen very closely. Something about wisdom for Venus and protection from food poisoning.
“Amen.”
Venus savored the salty black bean sauce dripping from the soft rice noodle, the tender strips of beef, the slices of perfectly sautéed green bell pepper. Ahhh. Ambrosia.
“Can’t you stay there only until you finish the software, and then bail?” Trish dug into her salt-and-pepper fried pork chop.
“I was thinking about that.” She licked a drop of sauce from her chopstick. “Since I’m no longer acting Game Lead, I’ll have more time on my hands. I could ignore their blatant message and stay on for six more months.”
Jenn slurped her wonton soup. “They won’t like that.”
“Who cares? They shafted her!” Lex violently speared at her Hong Kong-style noodles, causing crispy deep-fried pieces to fly into Jenn’s soup.
Jenn scooped up the noodle bits. “But is it safe to stay there considering that one guy—Edgar?”
“Yeah, is that going to be okay? Is he still going to be after your software?” Trish rubbed her lower back again.
“I moved my computer into a safe deposit box today.” Venus sucked up a fat rice noodle.
“A m I the only one who thinks this is nuts?” Lex gave her an incredulous stare. “How can you work with those guys knowing they tried to steal from you?”
“I don’t know if it’s all of them. It could just be Edgar and Yardley. Yardley knew I was going to be passed over, and in case I quit, he sent Edgar to steal the software, or find notes on it, or something.”
“You don’t have notes lying around, do you?” Trish’s brow wrinkled.
“Of course not. Why do you think I insisted on getting a condo with a fireplace? In sunny California?”
Lex spoke with her mouth full. “For once, I’m glad you’re even more paranoid than your dad.”
“Are you going to be able to work, considering they passed you over like that?” Jenn bit into a pork dumpling from her soup. “Ugh, too much ginger.”
Venus stalled by taking some dau miu, slender stems and leaves from an English pea plant sautéed with garlic and oyster sauce.
She should be used to being on the outside—the lone woman looking in—but she had thought she’d finally earned their high opinion. Now, she’d be a company team player, and yet not. How could she not be working toward a common goal with her programmers and the other managers? How could she be a programming team leader while plotting her departure from the company as soon as possible? “I’ll do what they want. I’ll play the quiet little woman, doing my job, keeping my mouth shut. Finishing that program.”
She shoved some pea greens in her mouth. Hmm, not bad. Heavy on the garlic but tasting like usual—similar in flavor to young broccoli. “In the meantime, I need to decide which designers and animators to interview, which angel investors to target.”
“For angel investors, you could ask Grandma.” Jenn snagged some dao miu.
The three of them turned to stare at her.
Jenn froze, a pea leaf sticking out of her mouth. “What?”
“Ask Grandma? Are you nuts?”
Jenn chewed and swallowed. “You’re the one who’s nuts if you’re not going to get her advice and help. She’s got connections like Imelda has shoes.”
“But… Grandma?” Granted, Grandma was a notch higher than Mom, but she still wasn’t high on her favorite persons list. Grandma’s nagging about her singleness had gotten worse since they’d all turned thirty—with Venus, there were pointed jabs about her putting her work before her obligation to provide grandchildren to her parents. Grandma alwa
ys found some way to try to manipulate her to going on a date or meeting some boy. Venus hated being manipulated, least of all by the family matriarch. She wasn’t about to do anything she didn’t want to do.
“You know, Jenn’s right.” Trish shrugged. “Grandma would know the angel investors who are more likely to want to back you.”
Lex pointed at Venus with her chopsticks. “None of us, except Jenn—”
“Don’t point with your chopsticks,” Jenn interjected.
Lex put the chopsticks down. “None of us get along with Grandma very well, but she’s always willing to help if she can. She thrives on being useful.”
Venus frowned. “Sure, she’s willing to help. For a price.”
Lex and Trish both looked down at their plates.
“Exactly.” She couldn’t believe Lex and Trish, of all people, would encourage her to go to Grandma for help. Especially after Grandma had tried to bribe Lex with a new apartment in exchange for dates with her friends’ sons and nephews, and after Grandma had practically disowned Trish for not marrying her creepy ex-boyfriend, the son of some rich bankers in Japan.
“But think about it.” Jenn snagged more pea greens. “Do you really want to waste time with disinterested investors? Grandma can help you be more efficient in going about everything.”
Jenn was right, but Venus didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t like talking to Grandma. I always feel she’s judging me and I’m not good enough.”
“You do?” Trish’s confused look scrunched up her face. “But she’s been nicer to you than she is to any of us. I mean, she takes Jenn for granted a lot of the time, and she clashes with Lex, and right now she’s not even speaking with me. She at least smiles when she talks with you.”
Jenn nodded. “She seems…approving when she talks with you.”
“Actually…” Lex swirled the noodles on her plate. “It’s been since you lost weight.”
Venus scowled. “Everyone started treating me differently since then.” The programmers who had been her “buds” were suddenly hitting on her, the managers and VPs had suddenly been all predatory smiles, the women—whom she’d never really gotten along with anyway—were suddenly catty and vicious.
Originally, she’d been so happy when that stomach virus and her stomach sensitivity in the six weeks afterward had made her lose so much weight so fast, and she’d worked hard to lose even more and keep it off. She’d been overlooked and invisible as a fat, brilliant programmer, and she thought that her new body would make her more visible and appreciated for her abilities.
But the slender Venus that emerged hadn’t had the new beginning she envisioned—she’d received sexual innuendos instead of respect. Ironic that now she hid herself behind tailored, nearly masculine clothing much like what she wore when she’d been overweight.
Jenn twirled a lock of her long, straight hair. “I think Grandma actually respects you more since you determined to lose weight and you actually did it, which is why she treats you better than any of us.”
“I wanted her to respect me before I lost weight. I’m still smart, still good at my job. I won all those gaming tournaments in college.” Why hadn’t she been good enough then?
“The thing is, Grandma has always been beautiful.” Trish sighed. “Like your mom, Venus. She tends to notice beauty more than success.”
So much like her mom, and yet so different. Grandma was both beautiful and a successful businesswoman, for all her other faults. Mom was only beautiful.
Trish looked up at her. “You have to admit, you did change after you lost weight.”
“What do you mean?”
Trish hesitated, but Lex answered for her. “You were always efficient and aggressive, but you were nice occasionally. Now you’re just efficient and aggressive.”
“I had to be aggressive. No one listened to the fat girl if she didn’t speak up.” She ignored the part about not being nice. She was nice. Occasionally. To her cousins, at least.
“But now you’re so much more into your career than you ever were,” Trish said.
“Exactly.” Lex grinned. “You’re not just driven, you’re maniacal. ”
“I’m not—”
“I actually think Venus is a lot like Grandma,” Jenn said.
“What?” Venus rounded on her. “I am nothing like Grandma.”
“Actually—” Lex put up her hands. “No, don’t have a cow. Think about it. You’re both beautiful, elegant, smart, and pushy.”
“I am not pushy.”
“You’re aggressive,” Jenn corrected. “So is Grandma.”
Venus stilled. They couldn’t be right. They couldn’t. Grandma was ruthless and cold and selfish. Okay, Venus admitted she could be ruthless when it came to work, but not with people. Well, not people she cared about. She didn’t count Mom or a few of the cattier cousins because they didn’t care about her either.
“Think of it this way.” Trish leaned closer. “Even if we’re all not crazy about Grandma, you can’t ignore the fact that she’d be happy to help you. Isn’t that worth it? For your business?”
“Yeah, can’t you suck it up for an hour and pretend to be nice?” Lex gave a cheeky grin.
Venus glared. Lex just grinned wider.
“I’ll think about it.” Like for two nanoseconds before throwing the idea in the wastebasket.
Lex exhaled in disgust and sat back in her chair. Trish rolled her eyes.
Jenn wisely kept her head down. “So you’re going to stay at your company and work on your own startup at the same time?”
Trish gave her a quizzical glance. “Are you sure you’ll have time to do that? You’re always at work.”
“I was acting Game Lead—”
“You were always at work at your last company too, and you were only Programming Lead there.”
“I’ll… I’ll make time.” She looked down at her plate. Had she already eaten all the pea greens? She had to stop or she’d eat too much. She set down her chopstick. But she’d already eaten all that chow fun, why not a little more? No, she already had to run an extra half hour on the treadmill tomorrow. Yes…no…yes…
Stop arguing with yourself. She shoved her plate away with unnecessary force and tried to ignore the way her mouth craved more food, like a wild animal in itself.
“Oh!” Trish sat up.
“What? Are you okay?”
“I think so, I…” Her brows knit and her head tilted to the side.
She suddenly inhaled sharply, and her face paled to the color of Jenn’s won ton dumplings. She breathed in short gasps. “Guys, my water broke.”
FOUR
Venus peeled through the gates into her neighborhood and skidded into her parking slot. Even though the nurses had said the baby might not come for another few hours, she didn’t like being away from Trish, even just to get clothes for them both.
She reached into the backseat of her convertible and grabbed Trish’s bag that she’d picked up—already packed and ready. She stowed it in her trunk and then raced up the stairs to her own condo.
Keys, keys… Her bag had never seemed too small before, but she couldn’t seem to get her hand in deep enough to grab her k—what was that?
A shadow moved away from her door.
Her heart gunned in her chest like her car engine. Were they back to try again? She moved her fingers in her bag and grabbed the pepper spray.
“Hello, darling.”
Venus’s heart went from 300 horsepower to a hard, slow slamming against her ribs. “Mom. What are you doing here?”
Her mother’s slim figure stepped into the circle of light from above the door. She laughed, a tinkling sound that grated down Venus’s spine. “You know, I’ve never visited your home before. You’ve been here how long?”
“A few years.”
She gave a chiding smile. “You never invited me over.”
Venus crossed her arms. “I don’t invite anyone over.” This is my space, and I don’t want anyone in it, least of
all you. And you come waltzing up here as if all those years of emotional abuse never existed.
Unfazed, her mother laughed again. Venus gritted her teeth at the fake sound. “What do you need?” More money? Usually Mom went to Grandma for that.
“I just came by to say hello.” She touched Venus’s arm, and her numerous rings grazed her skin—warm, but hard metal. She smiled that serene, China-doll smile, her deep plum lipstick perfectly drawn over her full lips. She looked like Grandma, although softer in her beauty. Venus recoiled inside.
“I’m only running in to get clothes, and then I’m leaving again.” She still didn’t move closer to the door. Once she opened it, Mom would invade her home, and much as she’d like to, she couldn’t slam the door in her mother’s face.
“Oh.” The powdered cheeks sagged a bit as Mom frowned, but she immediately smiled again so her wrinkles wouldn’t show. “Well, let’s have lunch tomorrow.”
“I’m busy.”
She pouted, her artfully made-up eyes smoky and soft in the darkness. “You’re too busy at work.”
“I would think you’d be busy at work too.” Venus kept her voice low-pitched under the subtle dig at her mother’s penchant for ditching work because her boss was her mother, Venus’s grandmother.
Mom’s face became a plastic mask with a neutral smile. “I’m not as busy as you are, apparently.” Her eyes narrowed. “I saw your father at the bank a few days ago.”
“That’s what Dad said.”
Bitterness glittered from her eyes. “I also heard you picked him up after his accident last night.”
The same whining argument as before. Her mother’s jealousy over how much time she spent with Dad made her want to scream. “He called me at midnight. Who else could have picked him up?”
“So you’d pick him up at midnight but not have lunch with me?”
“It’s different.” Why was Mom always so illogical and unreasonable?
Her mother huffed and tapped her pointed leather sole. “So, you won’t spend time with me unless I call you at midnight from the side of the road? Great.”
