The Social Code

by Sadie Hayes

  After the waiter took away their entrée plates, Sundeep cleared his throat and lifted his wineglass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he said, looking around the table and landing on Lisa. Lisa smiled at him nervously. Her relationship with Sundeep was the biggest stress in her life, and she had no one to talk to about it. Her feelings for Adam had grown so much that every time she smiled at Sundeep, or kissed him, or accepted his affection, she felt like a liar and a cheat. She had tried to get her parents not to invite him to the wedding, but her mother had insisted—she thought she was doing Lisa a favor, and how could Lisa tell her the truth?

  T.J. took a large sip of his wine. Oh, God, he wasn’t going to propose, was he? He liked Sundeep well enough. He was so friendly that you couldn’t dislike the guy, and he thought what Sundeep was doing for India was really impressive. But for his sister? He didn’t seem to fit.

  “I just wanted to say a big thank you to all of you,” Sundeep said. “For welcoming me into your family and letting me be a part of this very special weekend.”

  Mrs. Bristol was making a pouty, isn’t-he-so-sweet face at Ted, squeezing his hand under the table. Ted had stopped counting, but he was pretty sure the glass of wine in her hand was her third, after downing two daiquiris and a glass of champagne before dinner. He’d had his assistant book the presidential suite for the two of them at the Four Seasons and was starting to worry she was going to spend the night hunched over the toilet.

  “You see,” Sundeep kept going, “I’m not on good terms with my own family right now.” He looked down at the table, nervously wiping the perspiration from his water glass with his thumb. Lisa’s eyes got wide: Was he going to tell them? Mrs. Bristol gasped and pressed her hand over her heart in excessive concern. Yes, she was definitely wasted.

  “When I decided to pursue WorldSight, I turned down an opportunity to attend Stanford Medical School. It’s so competitive there, and they don’t let you defer, so I gave up my spot and my fellowship. My father was furious. He’s a doctor and always assumed I’d follow in his footsteps to become a cardiac surgeon. My mother was angry, too, but she reasoned that my work on this company was just a phase—something I needed to get out of my system—and I told her I’d consider reapplying to medical school this fall.”

  Yes, he was telling them. Lisa’s mind raced: Was it good or bad for them to know? She took a sip of her wine. Did it matter? He was going for it.

  “But I didn’t reapply. How could I? The more I work on this, the more I’m certain it’s my calling. In response, however, my father officially cut me off. My mother was helpless to do anything, and I haven’t had any contact with anyone in my family since.”

  It was true, and hearing him say it made Lisa’s heart heavy all over again. He was such a good person, such a kind soul, and his family was treating him so unfairly. She thought back on the first time he’d told her. She’d just been to see Adam in his dorm room after the Gibly news broke. Her heart was fluttering with her attraction for him and the danger of being involved with the twin of her father’s nemesis. She thought about Adam’s mismatched socks and the dimple in his left cheek that always appeared when he smiled at his own jokes and the way he didn’t even try to contain his excitement at seeing her when she’d come back from her family vacation in France. She thought about all these things and her cheeks got hot and her whole body felt light, and she texted Sundeep to ask him if they could talk, because she knew that she had to break up with him. He’d said yes, and they’d agreed to meet that night. But when they’d met, right as she started to tell him she’d found someone else—that it was her, not him—he’d broken down, put his head on the table, and explained what had happened with his family. He was devastated. She couldn’t tell him.

  That was last summer, and she still hadn’t found the strength to be so cruel. Sundeep didn’t have a lot of friends. He spent all his time working on his company or admiring her. What would happen if she broke up with him? She didn’t know, and it worried her horribly.

  Lisa felt trapped. She loved one guy and felt duty-bound to another. And now he was eliciting the sympathy of her mother, which was going to make this whole thing even more difficult. No, it was not a good thing that he was telling them, she decided.

  “So, in conclusion, I’d like to express my gratitude and admiration to the Bristol family for your extraordinary kindness and hospitality.”

  Everyone clinked glasses and smiled politely at Sundeep. He nodded sheepishly and looked longingly at Lisa. “Thank you,” he whispered. She hoped he couldn’t pick up on the fakeness in her reassuring smile. She looked around. Some family he’d just gotten himself involved in, she thought. Mrs. Bristol was taking a long swig of her wine, Mr. Bristol was focused on getting the waiter’s attention to order dessert and another Scotch, and T.J. was checking his text messages under the table.

  48

  Waterfalls

  “We should let the young athletes go ahead of us old fogies,” Chad’s father said cheerfully. Chad and Patty had been silent for the half hour the families had been on the trail, and the adults naturally assumed it was because the hiking pace was too dull.

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Patty said, smiling politely.

  “Are you afraid I’ll beat you?” Chad smiled at her.

  Chad’s mother laughed. “I’m glad to see the sibling rivalry has already begun!”

  Patty glared at them both. She was fiercely competitive, and, especially when it came from Chad, a challenge was too much to resist.

  She chuckled coolly. “Please. I could take you any day. I’ve got nothing to prove.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Chad smirked.

  Patty stopped, held his eyes for a minute, and took off, dashing up the hill.

  Forty strenuous minutes later, Chad and Patty were both still in a full-on sprint, jumping over roots and dodging branches until they finally burst into a clearing where an enormous waterfall plunged into a pool of crystal-clear water. A bright red sun rested on the horizon opposite the waterfall, its light reflecting off the water in a brilliant mix of colors.

  “Totally beat you!” Chad gasped.

  “Did not,” Patty panted, looking up at the sunset. “Oh my God, this is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

  They stood for a moment, taking in the beauty. It was the kind of moment that you know is rare and aren’t quite sure how to take in.

  Patty’s tanned face dripped with sweat, her clothes wet from the run. Chad pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt, and Patty tried not to pay attention to his perfectly chiseled abs. She wished she were a guy and had the option of taking off her sweaty top, too.

  “I know how we can decide,” Chad said. “See that rock in the middle of the water? First one there wins.”

  With her hands on her hips and her gaze set on Chad, Patty used her foot to force one shoe off the other. “You realize I was recruited to swim for Stanford, right? The best swim team in the country?”

  “Yeah,” he said, slipping off his own shoes, “but you’re still a girl.”

  She slapped him playfully on the stomach and dove into the water, easily beating him to the rock with her flawless freestyle.

  She climbed up and watched the sun slip toward the blue-green sea. Chad clambered onto the rock beside her and rested his elbows on his knees, shaking his head to release water from his shaggy blond tresses. “Okay,” he conceded, out of breath. “You are a goddess and a champion. You win.”

  Patty laughed. “That will teach you.” Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and the beads of water made her skin glisten in the dusky light. Her searching eyes were captivated by the setting sun, and she looked like she was deep in her own world, lost in thought about something only she could know.

  “You are so, so beautiful,” Chad said slowly, his voice honest and raw, born out of a reflex, as though she was so beautiful right then that he couldn’t not say it.

  Patty turned her head toward him, pulling her knees in
to her chest and swallowing hard. “You can’t say that, Chad,” she said with a twinge of anger in her voice. “It isn’t fair to me.” She glanced back at the horizon, surprised by her own vulnerability. She knew, logically, that it wasn’t fair to Shandi, but if she was being honest, she was more upset by how unfair it was to her, the way he led her on and made it impossible not to love him.

  Chad touched her arm. “I know. I know, Patty.” He closed his eyes as if to gather his thoughts. “I know it’s crazy, but if you only knew how much I think about you—I can’t get past it. Ever since that party when I saw what we might be able to have. I mean, when I felt the chemistry between us…”

  “Don’t!” Patty glared at him, trying to look fierce despite the tears. “Don’t say these things so you can feel good about yourself. It’s not fair to do this to me!”

  “Patty, I just don’t know what to do.”

  Patty pulled her shoulder away from his touch. “What you do is forget about it! You marry my sister and you stop saying things like that and you stop stroking my arm like this and you stop looking at me with those eyes,” she hissed, her heart sinking at how much she didn’t really want him to stop any of those things.

  The sun was melting and the sound of the waterfall roared behind them.

  He leaned into her, their noses barely three inches apart. She could feel his warm breath hit her lips. His eyes looked into hers, searching, and he whispered, “But what if I’m marrying the wrong sister?”

  “Who won?” Mr. Hawkins called out from the shore. Molly splashed into the water as the rest of the hiking crew clambered up the trail to the clearing, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at its beauty.

  The sun slipped below the horizon, and the magical moment was gone.

  49

  You Can’t Stay on Top Forever

  The conference expo, where all the start-ups were demonstrating their products, was about to start. Amelia bent over, her hand resting on the table behind the Doreye booth, taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. Adam rubbed her back. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She shook her head, not looking up. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Adam,” she moaned.

  “It’s going to be okay.” He tried to console her, but he wasn’t sure how. She’d been devastated ever since the morning session when the journalist had brought up her time in jail. “Tonight’s all about the product. No one’s going to be asking you about our past.”

  “Where’s Roger?” Amelia asked.

  “His flight got delayed,” T.J. said, overhearing her question as he walked into the booth, sliding the cell phone he’d just been talking on into his pocket. “I told him to take the private jet, but he always insists on going commercial. Listen, sorry I’m late. I had a family dinner. I brought you some dessert.”

  T.J. dropped a white box on the table and looked empathetically at Amelia. “But you don’t look very hungry.” He pulled her up gently from her keeled-over position and put his hands on her shoulders. He looked straight into her eyes and said seriously, “Amelia, you are going to be spectacular tonight. Okay?”

  She blinked her eyes. Growing up, she never cried, but she felt tears forming and fought desperately to hold them back.

  “I don’t care what you did or where you came from. You’re here now, and you’re the most exciting thing at the expo, and absolutely nothing anyone does or says will change that,” T.J. went on.

  Amelia nodded her head like a child trying to appease her parent.

  “I mean, I’m a total asshole who always looks for the worst in everyone, so if I’m saying that…” T.J. smiled, and Amelia let out a laugh, wiping a tear from her eye. T.J. was new at the whole self-deprecation thing, but he was pleased that it seemed to be making Amelia feel better.

  “T.J.? Do you really not care where Adam and I came from?”

  “Not at all. If anything, I think it makes you cooler.”

  Amelia smiled at the compliment. She might not approve of T.J.’s type, but it did feel good to have him call her “cool.” She hesitated, then went on, not quite sure how to articulate what she was trying to say. “I guess … I guess I just hadn’t realized how much I don’t want people to know. Not because I’m afraid of getting in trouble, but because it feels like it diminishes our accomplishment, you know? Like Doreye got here because Adam and I were poor and pathetic and Roger wanted to help, not because the product is remarkable in and of itself.”

  T.J. smiled. “But the product is remarkable in and of itself. And as nice a guy as Roger Fenway is, he is first and foremost an investor: I don’t care how much he liked you, he never would have backed you if he didn’t think you’d be successful.”

  Amelia blushed. “I know. Which is why I just want to focus on that, and not on me and Adam or our past.”

  “I get it. Let’s focus on the product then. Not you and Adam.”

  “Promise me?”

  T.J. looked at Amelia in a new way. “Yes, Amelia. I promise. Now come on,” he said, “let’s go get you back in front of your computer, talking about code.” He led her to the front of the booth, where conference participants had already started to gather.

  Adam followed them, simultaneously impressed by and jealous of T.J.’s ability to console Amelia. Adam glanced at the box of dessert, computing that if T.J. had just finished dinner with his family, then Lisa was wandering around unoccupied right now somewhere in the hotel. Just then, across the room, he spotted the back of a blond head set on a slender frame. Lisa!

  Adam raced across the room and tapped her on the shoulder. “Lisa!”

  “I’m sorry?” He heard a British accent as the woman turned toward him. Not Lisa.

  “Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  “Not to worry, Adam.”

  Adam blushed and darted back to the Doreye booth, wondering briefly how the woman knew his name.

  Thirty people were gathered around the Doreye booth as Amelia started the demo. She was holding an iPhone in her hand and linking it to her laptop, which was hooked up to a forty-eight-inch Alienware LCD monitor suspended above the booth. A television, a radio-controlled toy car, a microwave, and several other devices were arranged on the table.

  “I want to be honest about the shortcomings of this alpha version,” Amelia said to the crowd. “I haven’t yet been able to make Doreye as robust as I want to, which means we can’t yet manage multiple devices simultaneously. I set up a queue system, which is a good patch for now, but there’s still a slight lag as Doreye switches between devices. The lag is because of the network. I wish we were on 4G. Anyway, in the future this shouldn’t be a problem, but for now, fair warning.”

  The crowd smiled, charmed by the young girl’s honesty. They all watched as she proceeded to open the Doreye app on her iPhone and use it to run the other devices on the table. With the swipe of Amelia’s finger, the television turned on and changed channels before turning off again. A brief moment later, the toy car moved in a semicircle and stopped next to the microwave, which suddenly turned on. The devices were elegantly operating in concert, and Amelia was the conductor. There was ooh-ing and ahh-ing as more people huddled around the table.

  Just then, though, the microwave shut down. Amelia looked at it quizzically—she hadn’t done anything to turn it off. Then the toy car started moving and drove off the table without her touching the Doreye app. She looked at the iPhone in her hand. What was going on?

  On the monitor, the devices started flicking off and on, registering as “in use,” then “out of use,” and going completely haywire. The crowd began to murmur.

  “Amelia,” Adam whispered. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Amelia whispered back. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

  A man in the front row heard her. “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  Amelia looked up at the crowd and blushed. “I’m not sure what’s going on,” she admitted. “Maybe there’s an issue with the network here
?” She was desperately searching for an answer. “But that’s never been a problem before.…”

  “That’s just the carpenter blaming her tools,” a British accent called out from the back of the crowd. The group parted, and the blond who looked like Lisa but wasn’t sauntered forward. She was glaring at Amelia and smiling menacingly. “It’s not the network, it’s your program. Not being able to handle multiple devices isn’t the only problem. It’s entirely flawed software.”

  Amelia’s and Adam’s jaws dropped. Who was this woman?

  “She stole the idea from us, but she missed a few details. If you want to see the real deal, come with me to the RemoteX booth.”

  The crowd followed her, leaving the Doreye table empty. Adam, Amelia, and T.J. were stunned.

  50

  Some Things Champagne Can’t Fix

  The last thing T.J. wanted to do was to go to Shandi Hawkins’s “Moonlight Drinks” reception on the Four Seasons terrace. It would be like every other Atherton party—the same faces, the same what’s-the-latest-hot-deal-in-the-Valley chat among the men and how-do-you-keep-your-skin-so-young-looking dialogue among the women—just in a different setting with a few East Coast WASPs interlaced, courtesy of Chad Sebastian Bronson of the Darien, Connecticut, Bronsons.

  The demo had been a disaster. T.J. had to figure out who that woman was and what RemoteX was all about. It was peculiar—and suspiciously convenient—for this company to appear out of thin air and make Doreye look like a fraud.

  But, in truth, that was secondary. What was really weighing on him now was Amelia, and a deep sense that he’d let her down. He should have stepped in, should have been able to help her recover from the malfunction, should have been able to recapture the audience’s attention when that woman interrupted.