by Adele Huxley
Lauren quickly looked away when the mystery woman stood and excused herself from her friends. Like a slap upside the head she recognized her, a face coming back from the past. As the woman walked by, Lauren ducked away, pretending to dig through her purse and watching from the corner of her eye. She waited until she’d safely passed.
“Holy shit, I know who she is now. I went to school with her. That was Sahra Gilson,” she whispered harshly.
“And judging by that reaction, I take it we weren’t besties with Sahra?”
“We were, at first. We kind of stuck together freshman year because we had all the same classes. She studied all the time but by sophomore year she was struggling pretty bad. I tried to help her but she just sort of lost interest...right around the same time she realized all the guys had gained interest in her.” Lauren pursed her lips for a moment before taking a sip of her martini. “Sahra thought it was easier to just flirt with some guy and get them to do everything for her. Really pissed me off.”
“So what happened? You just stopped talking?”
“Kind of. She transfered to another school our junior year and I never heard from her again.” Lauren paused. “Actually, that’s not true. She sent me a friend request and I ignored it.”
“Well I bet she’ll be surprised to see you. You were a lot different in college, weren’t you? For instance, you probably didn’t wear this much makeup...”
“Oh shit,” Lauren exclaimed. She grabbed a linen napkin and started dabbing at her face. “Damnit, I’d forgotten I’d let you do that,” she cursed her, wiping her mouth clean of shiny lip gloss and rubbing her eyelids. “Better?”
“Eh, that’s a subjective question,” Ali replied with a shrug.
It wasn’t long before Lauren spotted her returning to the bar and settling back in her seat. It was incredible how good she looked. The Sahra she’d known was pretty but nerdy and came from an all-girl’s school in Connecticut. That Sahra had been obsessed with fan-fiction and Halloween makeup. This Sahra was captivating and beautiful, clearly a social butterfly. It was plain why the men were enamored with her. Lauren slid her chair to the right so Ali blocked her view, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to stop staring.
Soon enough, the server arrived with their delicious food. Lauren savored her swordfish and fresh vegetables. She was so sick of eating stale sandwiches while standing on aching feet and attempting small talk with businessmen. She was about to comment to Ali that their meal was the first uninterrupted one she’d had in California when her phone rang. She reached down and silenced it in her purse, waiting to see if the unknown number left a voice message.
“Nick?” Ali said as she shoved a forkful of lobster spaghetti in her mouth.
“I highly doubt it. Besides, it’s like what, midnight there?” She listened to the voice mail when it popped up. Parker. “Damnit, of course he’s still up. I better call him back before he explodes,” she said as she slipped on her jacket. “Get a dessert menu, yeah? Company tab, we’re doing three courses.”
Lauren stepped out into the alley and away from the small line of people queuing to get in. Damn, it’s almost worse than Manhattan. The low clouds raced across the orange sky, fog rolling in from the bay. Parker picked up on the second ring.
“Sorry to have inconvenienced you,” he spat. “Is this a bad time?”
“I was in the middle of dinner. I’m at Bix, thanks for the suggestion, by the way.” Choosing not to rise to his bait had recently proved a good tactic. By allowing his vitriol to flow over her, she found he had less control over her moods.
Parker’s voice softened, “Right. I should’ve looked at the time. I was just checking in. How’d it go today?”
Lauren paced slowly along the alley, her black heels clicking against the pavement. “As well as can be expected, I’d say. Andrew is one tough nut, isn’t he? Does he even have more than one expression?”
“I’ve heard he only smiles when he makes money. Don’t worry about it. Even if you bombed today, which you probably did, it doesn’t matter. All these people talk. They’re worse than teenage girls. The fact we got a meeting with Andrew Cole should secure enough confidence we’ll get others.”
Lauren nodded. Makes sense. I hate that I don’t know all this and I really hate that I have to learn it all from him.
“Besides,” Parker continued, “from what I hear, Andy boy isn’t really doling out much money lately. I think a few of his ventures have fallen through. Reputation means everything.”
“Right,” Lauren muttered.
“I haven’t told anyone this yet, but after we get funding, I want to make us bi-coastal so don’t go pissing anyone off out there. Silicon Valley is a small, incestuous place. It’s like Appalachia for millionaires.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling,” Lauren said, remembering the blast from her past still sitting inside at the bar.
“You’re all set for tomorrow? These things are pretty intense. Gotta be on the entire time, you hear me? No, scratch that. You get there early. You’re the face of StyleSpur at this event and you better not fuck this up.”
“Just stop. No one knows the ins and outs of this company like me, not even you,” said Lauren. Her temper flared whenever her abilities were brought into question. “As much as you’d like to think otherwise, I’m the very one who should be representing the company.”
“Watch yourself.” His words sent a shiver down her spine. It was reminiscent of the tone he’d used when they’d been alone in the meeting room. With two words, Parker had managed to make her feel helpless, disgusted, and guilty in an instant.
Lauren softened her voice despite the fury inside.“I’ll be fine. I’ll give you a call tomorrow when I get back from the meetup. I’ll give you a full rundown so you don’t feel out of the loop, okay?”
Her blood boiled as she marched back into the restaurant. Who the fuck does he think he is? I can’t stand the way he treats me! One minute I’m some sort of sexual plaything the next I’m apparently a stupid, helpless child. He only ever acknowledges my intelligence when he knows I’m on the verge of quitting, the bastard. A waiter burdened with a tray of drinks narrowly avoided her as she whipped around the corner. Full of pent up anger and resentment, Lauren flung herself onto her seat and inadvertently hooked her heel into the corner of the long tablecloth. She had no time to react. The speed with which she whipped her leg under the table brought all their dirty plates and glasses toppling to the floor, causing such a commotion the entire restaurant looked to see what’d happened. What the patrons saw was a shocked Ali holding up an unspoiled cocktail in the air and Lauren covered with scraps of food, surrounded by shards of glass and ceramic.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she said to no one in particular. No staff member immediately approached the table, leaving Lauren dripping and at a loss for what to do. After what seemed to be an eternity, the patrons returned to their meals and within moments the music resumed. Thankfully, the world continued spinning. A team of busboys and waiters rushed to her side, making sure she hadn’t been harmed by any of the debris.
“No no, I’m okay, really.” Her cheeks were burning hot and she broke out into a sweat.
Ali casually sipped her cocktail as if nothing had happened. “Could we please just get the bill please? Oh, and two slices of lemon tart to go.”
Once the mess was as cleared as it could be, Lauren buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
Ali laughed. “Oh who cares? People have already forgotten it happened. It’s not like you know anyone here—” She trailed off as she realized that indeed, someone in the room did know Lauren. Lauren gave her a wide-eyed look as if to say, you aren’t making this any better.
As she wiped a glob of crème fraîche from her dress, a soft voice tentatively called out her name? “Lauren? Is that you?” Instantly cringing, knowing full well what face she’d see as she looked up, she prepared an expression of surprise. As if on cue,
Sahra Gilson approached from the bar.
“Oh my god, Sahra?” she exclaimed, her voice forced and high pitched. She folded the soiled napkin and stood to embrace her, remembering half way through the gesture how filthy she was. Sahra was polite enough to offer her hand instead.
“Lauren Kemp, I can’t believe my eyes. What on earth are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in what, five, six years?”
“Something like that, what a surprise!” She hoped Sahra couldn’t hear the insincerity in her voice. “How’ve you been? Here, have a seat.”
Lauren winced as Sahra had to step over a piece of broccoli the busboys had missed. She tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and smiled sweetly, balanced on the edge of the chair. They looked at each other wordlessly for several heartbeats, both waiting for the other to speak.
“Oh, and this is my friend Ali. Ali, Sahra.” She hoped Ali could relieve a bit of the awkwardness.
“We met at MIT, what feels like forever ago,” Sahra said as the girls shook hands. Ali smiled and took a sip of her drink, happy to blend into the scenery and spectate. You just love watching me squirm, Lauren thought. Sahra turned back and said, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you still living in New York?”
“Yeah, I’m just here for business. Obviously you’re still living here. Are you a true West Coaster now?”
“Oh, totally! I love it out here. You couldn’t pay me to move back to New York. People are too honest out there...” she laughed loudly. “But anyway, you look great like always.” She leaned toward Ali conspiratorially, looking Lauren up and down. “I was totally intimidated by her in college. Smart, gorgeous. All the guys in our class loved her. Who can compete with that?”
“Well, when you’ve got it, you’ve got it,” Ali responded coolly.
“Right? I was just the token Asian sidekick.”
“You weren’t the Asian—” Lauren started before getting cut off.
“Oh, it doesn’t matter now, that was forever ago! So you’re out here for work? God, I’m really busy myself but I can’t complain. I still have enough time to do a little modeling here and there and I’ve started making jewelry on the side, which is great. My boyfriend is CTO at Meep and we just became furparents!”
“Furparents?” Ali asked, biting back a giggle.
“Yupper! We adopted this little rescue Bichon Frise, hypoallergenic you know, cause of my allergies. Sampson is our little furbaby!” Sahra proudly presented her phone, swiping through photos of a tiny white dog looking tortured in various outfits.
“Ah.” Ali rolled her eyes and knocked the last of her cocktail back.
A bald man with dark skin approached and Lauren recognized him as one of the men she’d been with. Placing his hand on her shoulder he said, “Sorry to interrupt but Lee’s outside with the car.”
“Of course, I’ll be right there. Listen, Lauren, how long are you out here?” her dark eyes intense.
“Uh, well we’re flying back Friday but I have a pretty packed schedule—”
“Nonsense. We have to get together before you go! Anytime you can squeeze me in.” Sahra handed her a business card from her purse as she stood. “It was so great seeing you, Lauren. Please call me. Nice meeting you, too.”
“Mmmhmm,” Ali mumbled with a slight wave.
“God, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” said Lauren after she was sure Sahra had left the restaurant.
“I hate women who shake hands like that. You’re a normal person, shake my hand like a normal person. You aren’t a princess for fuck’s sake.”
“Why did she have to be here?” Lauren moaned.
“Oh don’t sweat it but you do realize you’re totally frenemies, right?”
“No we aren’t. We just haven’t seen each other in a long time,” she insisted.
“You didn’t notice the serious resentment lingering there? The Asian sidekick remark? Oh em gee, totes furbaby, el o el.”
“Oh stop reading into things,” Lauren said slipping the card into her purse without looking at it. “It’s not like I’m actually gonna call her. Let’s give them a minute and then can we please get out of here? I think the crème fraîche is spoiling.”
3.
Over 200 people filled the large room. Lauren stood at the top of the stairs and looked out over the sea of business people mingling over their catered lunches. Only half way through the day and she was absolutely wrecked. The event had begun at 7:00 a.m. with a breakfast socializing event, which meant Lauren had gotten up before 6:00 a.m. to get ready, tiptoeing around the hotel room as to not wake Ali. There was something sadistic about having to socialize with strangers at such an early hour but the coffee had helped. The next few hours had been a combination of networking opportunities and presentations from various members of the startup world. Hungry and tired, Lauren just wanted to skip the rest of the event but knew if she did, it would somehow get back to Parker.
Her rumbling stomach made the decision for her, enticing her down the stairs and into the throng. With a plate piled high with sushi and finger foods, she spotted a somewhat quiet corner where she could peacefully eat.
Just as she popped a large piece of rainbow roll into her mouth, an overweight man in his late 30’s approached, sweat stains circling his armpits and neck.
“Hello, I’m Elliot,” he said extending his hand. Lauren shifted her plate to her left, motioned she had a mouthful of food, and held up the badge that hung from her neck.
Lauren Kemp
Lead Programmer
StyleSpur
“Nice to meet you Lauren! I’ll give you a minute to chew there,” he said. He eagerly smiled at her as she worked on the sushi, a part of her wishing she’d choke just to give her an excuse to get away.
“Hi Elliot,” she coughed, swallowing quickly. “How are you?”
“I’m doing fantastic, Lauren. How about yourself?” He must be on something. No human is this perky naturally.
“Oh you know, better than some, worse than others.” Apparently this was the funniest response Elliot had ever heard. His bark of laughter was loud enough to echo through the large room, turning more than a few heads and startling Lauren in the process.
“That’s great. I love it! Can I steal it? Promise to give you credit every time I use it,” he said with a wink.
“Um, suuure.” Lauren wanted to melt into the floor. “So, Elliot. What do you do?” It seemed to be a safe enough question and one everyone opened with.
“Lauren, I’d love to tell you what I do. I work for Stationary Solutions, the largest distributor of stationary products to startups in Silicon Valley. No matter how digital our world gets, every office needs pens and paper, am I right?”
“Uh, yeah, I suppose that’s right.”
“Take yourself for example. You’re a programmer. How many times have you found yourself reaching for a pad of paper to jot down some idea? Maybe you’ve been disappointed by the quality of the pens your office manager has been purchasing. Cheap isn’t always cheerful!”
“I guess. Never really thought about it—”
“Lauren! That’s just it! Stationary Solutions makes it so you never have to think about it.”
Just then, a hand gently touched her elbow. A man with golden brown eyes and dirty blond hair appeared at her side, smiling mischievously. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him bewildered. Maybe I’m dying of boredom and my brain created this male model as a coping strategy to save my sanity.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to steal Lauren for a moment,” he said smoothly. Without another word, she allowed herself to be guided away from Elliot who was left gaping. When the man slipped his hand to the small of her back, Lauren was afraid her knees might buckle. “I apologize for being so forward but I couldn’t stand another second of that,” he whispered in her ear.
“He wasn’t that bad,” she replied, not wanting to sound like a bitch.
“Lauren, right? Lauren, I know you like to use pens, right Lauren
? Well, Lauren, have I got just the pen for you.” She laughed despite herself. “Oh, it’s all in good fun. Look, he’s already onto another mark,” he said pointing to Elliot’s sweaty back.
They found a small space near the windows. She quickly glanced at his chest, looking for the badge with his name and info but found nothing. She checked his trouser pockets, remembering that a few men had clipped their badges there. Nothing. With a start, she realized it made her look like she was checking him out. A blush rising in her cheeks she stammered, “I don’t think it’s fair you know my name and I don’t know yours.”
“Landon DeWitt,” he replied offering his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lauren Kemp from StyleSpur.”
Lauren had never before met someone that nearly took her breath away. Even touching his hand, a gesture she’d done hundreds of times, elicited an exciting response. He was probably a little over six feet tall and tan. She noticed his cheeks dimpled slightly when he smiled. Get yourself together, woman! “It’s nice to meet you as well. Are you here with anybody?”
“Now who’s the forward one? I suppose these meetups are a bit like speed dating,” he laughed.
“Oh god, no. I meant are you here representing a company.”
“Nope, I’m single as they come,” he replied with a sly smile. “I’m actually presenting after lunch if you’re interested.”
“Let me check. My boss scheduled me into specific seminars...” she said fumbling to pull up the itinerary on her phone. Afraid she was making an absolute fool of herself, she was glad to have an excuse to break eye contact. He leaned close and scrolled to his module, the heat of his arm against hers sending electrical shock waves through her body. “There?” she asked.
“That’s it. ‘Venture Capitalists: What do they want and how to give it to them.’ Sounds a lot more seductive than it really is, I’m afraid.” She was both thankful and sorry when he pulled away.
