by Sadie Hayes
Lisa’s cell phone rang and she blushed when she saw who was calling. “I’ve gotta take this, Adam. I’ll text you later, okay? Good luck unpacking.” She pecked his cheek and scurried out of the room, answering the phone as she turned down the hallway. “Hey! I’m just leaving somewhere. I’ll be out soon, and then I can talk.…”
22
Faces
“I’m calling it a day,” T.J. said as he popped his head into the Doreye office. “Have you got everything you need?”
“I’m fine.” Amelia didn’t look up from her computer, where she was deeply engrossed in coding. After a pause, it occurred to her that this might be rude, so she stopped typing and looked up. “But thanks,” she offered.
“No prob. See you tomorrow.” T.J. waved and was gone.
Amelia didn’t care how nice he was or how much Adam adored him; she still didn’t trust T.J. Bristol.
The day after their initial meeting at the incubator, T.J. had e-mailed Amelia, asking if they could meet the next morning to “make sure everyone was comfortable with the situation.” She responded grudgingly, “I’ll be at the incubator at 11.”
T.J. had already been there when she arrived, sitting in the playroom typing away on his laptop. When he saw Amelia go into her office, he got up to join her. “This still a good time?”
“As good as any.”
“Listen,” he said. “I’m going to be totally straight with you. What you did was devastating to my family. We lost millions, and I’m not sure my father will ever recover his reputation or his pride. In fact, I think there’s a good chance he’s going to retire altogether.”
Amelia stared straight ahead, her jaw clenched, without a hint of sympathy.
“But despite the fallout to my family, I respect what you did. And it just proved to me how insanely talented you are and how much potential you’ve got to be a part of the next generation of Silicon Valley. You’ve got guts and brains and vision, and that’s a rare combination around here. So I want you to know, right from the start, that if I have to pick sides, I’ll take yours. I am one hundred percent behind you, Amelia. I want to see you and Doreye succeed.”
Amelia squinted. She was studying T.J., trying to figure out what it was he wanted out of this. People like him made decisions on a cost-benefit basis: They calculated what they would have to give up to get what they wanted and, if the latter exceeded the former, they made the sacrifice. So, what was the benefit T.J. had estimated from supporting his father’s nemesis? she wondered.
“You can trust me, Amelia.” T.J. flashed a smile so charismatic it made her think he should have been a politician. He was so carefully put together that he must have practiced his facial expressions in the mirror—“This is the face that communicates sympathy; this is the face that communicates happiness.” Amelia wondered if anything about him was genuine, or if it was all part of a larger calculation.
“Thanks, T.J.,” she said. She didn’t trust him for a second. “I really appreciate your explaining that. I was a little worried when Adam told me who you were.”
“I can imagine,” T.J. said. “Which is why I wanted to make sure it was all on the table from the start. Also, I haven’t told Roger, so no need to worry about that.”
“Okay,” Amelia said. She actually hadn’t thought about whether or not Roger knew. She turned to her computer, hoping he’d get the hint that she wanted him to leave.
“Incidentally, I have a lot of confidence in your brother,” T.J. said. “I’m looking forward to working closely with Adam this summer. I’m going to turn him into an all-star business guy. I see a lot of myself in him, you know.”
She almost laughed. Did T.J. really think it would make her happy that he saw himself in her brother?
“Well I don’t really like the business side, so the more you two can take care of it, the better it will be for me.” She smiled weakly. “On that note, I’m going to get going on some coding.”
“Of course,” T.J. said. “Code away!”
That went exceptionally well, he thought as he left the room. Engineers were definitely weird, but he prided himself on being able to get through to anyone.
23
Burberry Plaid and Something Fruity
Patty could not wait for sophomore year to begin. In preparation, she had started a master cleanse diet, eating only raw fruits and vegetables and drinking a daily mixture of molasses, cayenne pepper, and lemon juice. It was alternately nauseating and boring, but after three weeks, she had lost eleven pounds. To reward herself, she went to Neiman Marcus, the highest-end department store in the high-end Stanford Shopping Center, to pick out a new outfit for the first day of school. She used her mother’s account to buy a cute Marc Jacobs floral-print romper and bright blue French Sole ballet flats. Very stylish, but not too over-the-top, and all under five hundred dollars, so her mother wouldn’t even notice the purchase when the monthly statement arrived.
She rode the escalator down to the first floor, comforted by the high ceilings, busy makeup counters, and elaborate handbag displays showcasing the newest autumn trends. There was something so pleasing about the place and its promise of fresh starts and pretty new things. It melted away all her stress.
And by “all her stress,” she was thinking about Chad. He and Shandi had gone on vacation together in June before he disappeared into an apartment in San Francisco for his summer internship with a private equity firm. Patty didn’t really know what “private equity” meant, but her father had been very impressed that he’d landed such a prestigious role. He had explained to Mrs. Hawkins, to her and Patty’s (secret) disappointment, that Chad’s long working hours would make it impossible for him to come to Sunday dinners anymore. But Patty knew that Chad’s internship had ended last week (she’d snuck into Shandi’s room and read her day planner) and that he’d be back on campus in a couple of weeks to start his second year of business school.
She couldn’t get their last night together out of her head. His finger touching her thigh as he wiped away the drop of ice cream—it was enough to make her want to rip off her clothes right then and there.
Patty closed her eyes, shaking the thought of Chad from her mind as she stepped off the escalator. Focus on the handbags, she thought.
She headed toward the Fendi bags, just to look, but on the way, a center display of Burberry watches caught her eye. She gasped. They were so cute! Fifty or so boxes containing the watches were stacked in a circle, with several opened on top to reveal the slender silver chain band and a small square watch face with a pale blue Burberry plaid backdrop and teardrop crystal in the center. She had to have one.
She checked the price: $275.
She glanced around, and then, casually, she picked up one of the display watches and put it on her wrist. After admiring the way it looked on her, she lowered her arm as if to test the weight. Moving around the table, she placed the display between herself and the closest store clerk, a woman at the Kiehl’s makeup counter. Then she discreetly slipped the watch off her wrist and into her handbag. She clicked the display box closed and put it back with the others, as though she had decided that the watch didn’t suit her after all.
Patty didn’t think of herself as a thief, but there was something satisfying about risking it a little. It’s not like Neiman Marcus couldn’t afford it: The watch was only $275. And she’d just made a purchase anyway. Besides, she knew she’d never get caught. Why would anyone suspect that a well-dressed Atherton girl with a Neiman’s account would steal something everyone knew she could afford?
She stopped to sample a new Chanel fragrance, lingering for a second to discuss the floral accents with the woman behind the counter, when she noticed a cute guy in the ties section looking over at her.
“I usually go for something a little fruitier,” she told the clerk, glancing over at the man. He smiled at Patty, setting down the Hermès tie he was looking at. “But this is really nice,” she continued.
She sniffed her wrist. Oh my G
od, he was coming this way! He was tall and tanned with shaggy blond hair and dark eyes. She could tell he had a great body under the white button-down he was wearing.
“How do you like the new fragrance?” he asked Patty, making eye contact with the clerk.
Patty was pleased but shocked. She’d never been approached so aggressively. Hold on, she thought. Was he going to buy this for her? She blushed. “I love it, actually. It’s very fresh.”
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Patty. Patty Hawkins.” It was a bit weird that he was doing this in front of the clerk, though, wasn’t it?
“Patty, I’m Mark. Can I ask you to come with me for a second?”
Whoa. He had just triggered the don’t-talk-to-strangers reflex that had been ingrained in Patty since childhood. “Oh, I don’t know.…”
“It’ll be less embarrassing if we step into the back office,” he said. “I just need to check your bag.” He smiled confidently and held out a police badge.
24
Good Neighbors
Amelia chewed her fingernail as she stared at her instant oatmeal rotating on the microwave plate in the incubator kitchen. She was thinking hard about the radio frequencies on garage door openers and how she might access them so that people could use their iPhones to open their garages. So far she’d found that four different companies operated garage door systems and each had a slightly different pattern. Even though this was less sexy than some of the other Doreye applications she was working on, it was going to take a while to code.
She closed her eyes. “What if I used the—”
Just then the microwave beeped to let her know her breakfast was ready. She didn’t pay any attention, engrossed in the algorithm she was thinking through in her head.
“Your breakfast is going to get cold.”
She jumped when she heard the voice behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know that the voice belonged to Sundeep, the former Stanford medical student who was working on a medical device start-up. Roger had brought him into the incubator five weeks ago.
“Oh,” Amelia said, blushing. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.” She pulled the bowl of oatmeal out of the microwave, tucked her chin down, and squeezed past Sundeep.
“Wait,” he said. “I need to eat breakfast, too. Why don’t you take a break from whatever you’re doing and we can eat in here together?”
Sundeep was one of those rare people who radiated warmth and kindness. His dark brown eyes always seemed to be smiling, and his six-foot-one-inch frame seemed like it was made for hugging. He was originally from Mumbai, but his family had immigrated to the United States when he was eight so his father could go to medical school at the University of Pennsylvania. Sundeep had followed in his father’s footsteps and been accepted to medical school at Stanford. Last year, however, against his parents’ wishes, he had deferred medical school to work on creating a new type of low-power laser that would treat glaucoma. His goal was to find a way to distribute the lasers at a low cost, so that they would be accessible to people in India, where glaucoma was the third leading cause of blindness, affecting over twelve million people.
Amelia had learned all of this by reading about Sundeep online. She didn’t know why, but he made her horribly self-conscious. It was like his eyes could see straight into her, and she simultaneously wanted to fall into his arms and run away as fast as she could.
“Oh, I should really get back to work,” Amelia said.
“What difference will ten minutes make?” Sundeep smiled. “Come on, we’ve been working next to each other for over a month now, and I don’t think we’ve had a single conversation. I feel like I hardly know you.”
Clearly, he wasn’t as into Internet stalking as she was.
Amelia blushed and laughed self-consciously. “There’s really not much to know.”
“Well, then it won’t take very long to fill me in.” He smiled and pulled out a chair.
Reluctantly, she sat down.
“Where did you grow up?” he asked.
“Indiana.”
“That’s got ‘India’ in it. Look how much we already have in common!” Sundeep said.
Amelia smiled. “So how are the lasers coming?”
“How do you know about my lasers?”
“Oh, I … Well, I read about them, or about you, online.”
“You googled me? I’m flattered. You’re supposedly the next Mark Zuckerberg or Larry and Sergey and you’re googling me?”
Amelia blushed, not quite sure what to say.
Just then Roger stuck his head around the corner.
“Amelia!” He was ecstatic. “Amelia, I just got off the phone with TechCrunch. They want to meet you and learn more about Doreye. They’re looking for companies to attend their Mobile Conference in Maui this December and are considering you guys. It would be terrific press and a great way to meet other companies for contracts. I told them we’d meet them at University Café. Can you be ready in fifteen?”
Amelia felt her stomach contract with nervousness. TechCrunch wanted to meet her? To talk about Doreye? Where was Adam?
“Yeah, of course, Roger. I’ll just get my things. Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just your ideas. We’ll talk about what to say on the car ride over.”
“Adam’s not here, though.”
“Let’s just do this one you and me. We’ll get Adam in on the next one.”
She looked at Sundeep. “Sorry to rush out.”
“No worries,” he said, smiling. “It sounds like things are about to heat up around here.”
“Oh no, it’s just a routine interview, I’m sure,” Amelia said.
“Not if Roger’s involved,” Sundeep said.
25
The Losing Streak
“Do I only get one phone call?” Patty asked after they had snapped a mug shot, fingerprinted her, and left her in a locked room with white concrete walls and grim fluorescent lighting for nearly an hour.
Officer Mark smiled at her. “No, that’s just what they say in the cop TV shows. We’ll let you use the phone until you get through to someone who can come pick you up.”
She had managed not to cry, which she thought was very grown-up of her, but she knew the minute she saw her parents she would start. How was she ever going to explain this to them? They were going to take away her credit card for sure and maybe the car. But they wouldn’t … they couldn’t … could they?
She swallowed hard as she dialed her home number from Officer Mark’s desk phone. She twirled the cord nervously as she listened to the phone ring once. Twice.
“Hello? Hawkins residence.”
Oh my God. Was that—?
“Chad?” Patty breathed into the phone.
“Patty?” He sounded cheerful. “Hey! What’s goin’ on?”
“Chad! I didn’t realize you were—” Patty glanced at Officer Mark, who was giving her a this-is-not-a-catch-up-with-old-friends-call look, and she paused. “Listen, Chad, I’m in … Well, I’m in some trouble.”
“What is it? What can I do?”
“I’m at the police station. Can you come pick me up?”
“Of course.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll leave right now. And don’t worry, your parents aren’t supposed to be home for another two hours.”
She hung up the phone.
Twenty minutes later, Chad smiled politely and shook Officer Mark’s hand. “Where do I need to sign?”
How did Chad know he had to sign forms? Had he done this before? Patty wondered about this as she watched him fill out the forms. He was taking responsibility for her release from jail as though he were making a routine bank deposit.
“All set!” He turned to Patty. “Ready to go?”
Patty was silent as she walked to Chad’s Land Rover and climbed into the passenger seat. She kept her gaze out the window so she didn’t have to look at him.
They drove without speaking. It was the middle of the day, and traffic moved q
uickly. Patty stared out at the trees lining the side of the road. Sunlight moved through the branches and glanced out at her from among the leafy shadows.
“When I was a freshman in college,” Chad said, “there was this huge Carolina-Duke basketball game on a Saturday, and we were drinking aggressively from, like, eight A.M. for it. And around two, right when everyone was starting to filter into the Dean Dome for the game, my suitemates and I decided it was a good time to go streaking.” Chad started to laugh. “But we didn’t want anyone to know it was us, you know? So we pulled on ski masks and stripped down and ran out of our dorm in this big victory lap. And as we were coming back to the dorm, there was this cop standing, blocking the door, and he handcuffed all four of us—not because we were streaking but because, get this—it’s against the law in North Carolina to wear a ski mask in public. So we got hauled into the station, wearing nothing but our ski masks, and had to sit there for hours, naked, until we sobered up.”
Patty gave him a weak smile. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
They pulled into the Hawkinses’ driveway. Chad turned off the engine.
“What I’m trying to say, Patty, is that it happens to all of us. We all do stupid things—well, except maybe your sister—and in a few years, I promise you’ll be laughing at yourself.”
She was looking at him, wanting to believe what he said, but she couldn’t keep the tears from trickling down her cheeks.
He reached up with his right hand and wiped a tear from under her eye with his thumb. “And you know what? I think the fact that you push the envelope makes you pretty special. This one’s between you and me, so long as you promise not to change yourself to fit their mold, okay?”
26
Can You Hear Me Now?
Roger glanced sideways at Amelia and gave her a reassuring nod. The two journalists from TechCrunch were seated opposite Roger and Amelia at a corner table in University Café, their notebooks and four orange-strawberry-coconut smoothies between them. They had just asked Amelia to explain Doreye’s functionality.
