by Sadie Hayes
He couldn’t explain it, except to say that he’d felt so good, so valuable, earlier in the day when he’d been able to protect Amelia from the nasty journalist during the panel. And he’d felt exactly the opposite at tonight’s demo.
And what if the product did have flaws? The only thing no one on the team ever questioned was Amelia’s ability to deliver flawless code. But it’s not like he or Adam or Roger could check it. And if the product wasn’t flawless, Adam and Amelia’s personal story was the only way they were going to sell it.
He rolled his head to stretch his neck and pulled up the sleeves of his pale blue linen button-down so they just covered his elbows. Then he took a deep breath and walked onto the terrace with a forced smile, grabbing a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter as he headed to the bar.
While he waited for the bartender’s attention, a cute brunette in a purple maxi dress approached. She was clearly already drunk, the pink cocktail in her hand swirling precariously as she swayed on her heels.
“Are you T.J.?” She giggled.
“I am,” he said. She had great breasts and would be an easy score—girls at weddings always were.
She giggled again. “Actually, I already knew that. Everyone has been saying you’re the guy to meet.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Lauren. I grew up with Chad.”
Good old Shandi, prepping all the single girls for his arrival.
“Very nice to meet you, Lauren. Can I get you a drink?”
“Yes, please! I’ll have another one of whatever these pink ones are.” Lauren pointed to the menu where specialty cocktails were listed.
He turned back to the bar, motioning to the bartender. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Heard about the demo. Tough start for the weekend.” T.J.’s father suddenly appeared beside him.
T.J. felt his jaw clench. He tried to sound cool. “We’ll get through it. I’m not worried.”
He motioned again for the bartender, purposefully keeping his gaze averted from Ted.
“Still, not good news about RemoteX. How’d you miss that there was a competitor?”
T.J. swallowed hard. He was not going to give in to his father’s provocations. He focused on the bartender. Why was this guy not coming over?
“I’m looking forward to seeing more about what they’ve developed. It’s hard to tell how many parallels there really are,” T.J. answered.
Finally, the bartender approached and took his order. “Jack and Coke and one of those pink cocktails, please.”
“I don’t want you getting upset over this, T.J.” Ted spun around on his seat and lounged against the bar. “Companies at the Doreye level have a ninety percent failure rate. So, Doreye didn’t work out for you? That’s okay. You’ve learned a lot, and maybe the next one will be huge.”
“Doreye isn’t a failure. It isn’t and it won’t be.” T.J. could feel his face getting red.
“I guess,” Ted continued, “you’ve got to wonder, given Amelia’s background, whether she did steal the technology. Poor kid, growing up alone, no moral center. She probably doesn’t even realize it’s wrong.”
This was too much. It was one thing to push T.J.’s buttons about the business, but Ted had no right to pull Amelia into it. He turned to face his father, his brow furrowed and his blue eyes intense. Ted was casually leaning back, both elbows propped on the bar, looking out at the crowd and sipping a Scotch. He was totally at ease as he taunted his son.
“You know what I think?” T.J. said decisively, a mix of anger and total confidence in his voice. “I think Amelia is lucky. It’s better to have no father at all than a morally bankrupt, money-grubbing one.”
Ted raised his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to his son. “I’m sorry?”
“What you did at Gibly—what you’re doing at Gibly—is wrong, and you know it. It could threaten national security—our safety as a country. You’re pleading ignorance for profits, as though that makes you inculpable. But it doesn’t. If the person paying for that data is a terrorist and, because of it, we’re attacked? That’s on you. And that’s fucking immoral as hell.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ted hissed, standing up straight.
T.J. was focused. “Let me tell you what I do know: Amelia was right to tell the press about Gibly. She was right to expose what shady shit you’ve been up to. You were once respected and admired—you were powerful—and then a little girl took it all away from you. You want your revenge on Amelia? You’re going to have to go through me.”
“You’ve always been so full of yourself, son. But what have you ever done without my help? Even this little job that you’re so cocky about. Who got you that job? Me.”
“You’re a shitty father. You tried to compensate for being absent and cold by providing Lisa and me with opportunities. But it’s a poor trade. You always put yourself first, always prioritized your business deals and ego over everything that mattered to me. I’d rather have a poor father with no connections—I’d rather have no father at all—than one I disrespect as much as I disrespect you.”
T.J. handed a five-dollar tip to the bartender and walked away, leaving Ted looking for the first time in his life like he wasn’t sure what to do.
“Did you get my cocktail?” Lauren stumbled away from the group of girls she’d been chatting with and grabbed T.J.’s arm.
“It’s on the bar,” he snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets and heading for the door.
51
Prove Yourself
Amelia and Adam were back in their hotel room, huddled over her laptop. After the demo fiasco, Amelia had texted George, hoping he was still awake and could gather a few folks from Gates for a Skype conference to figure out what had gone wrong. George had readily obliged.
“I just don’t understand what could have happened. The devices have never malfunctioned like that.” Amelia was talking to George, T-Bag, and Luke, another engineer who was part of the Wednesday night crew.
“Do you think it was a network issue? Maybe there was too much interference from the other products at the demo,” George offered.
“More interference than I’ve had at Gates? If there’s no problem there, with all the computers and iPhones and other programs running, I can’t imagine there would be a problem here.”
“Unless the broadband is weaker to begin with,” T-Bag offered.
“Wouldn’t that be a major problem for us, then?” Adam started, looking a little panicked. “I mean, that would mean Doreye wouldn’t work everywhere, right?”
“Yeah, Adam, that’s what it would mean,” George said in an irritated voice, as though he were talking to a child.
“Or maybe there was just another type of product that interfered. What were the devices around you at the demo?” Luke asked.
“There was the electric car, like, three booths down. That must have taken a ton of energy,” Adam piped in.
“An electric car would take electric energy, Adam, not broadband.” George was clearly annoyed. “Listen, Adam, maybe you should leave this one to us.”
Adam winced. He was just trying to help. Why did this geek George think he had the right to tell him to bug off? He looked at Amelia to stand up for him.
Amelia bit her lower lip and said softly, “I think George is right. Why don’t you go find Lisa? This’ll probably take a while and be boring for you anyway.”
Adam sat for a moment, stunned. Was she serious? Then, realizing she was, he picked up his wallet and notebook. “Yeah, okay.”
He’d love to see Lisa, but he had texted her twice and she still hadn’t responded.
Adam headed to the hotel bar, his feelings crushed.
* * *
“I’ll have a beer, please,” Adam said to the bartender. The room was dimly lit. Several groups were gathered around low tables with cushioned seats, deep in conversation over the chill house music. Adam took a seat on one of the leather stools and grabbed a handful of nuts from
a bowl on the bar, glancing out the window where he watched a party happening on the terrace.
He sipped his beer and tried to think about how he could help with this RemoteX debacle, or at least prove his worth at Doreye. George was right: He didn’t understand the technology. But how could he learn? And what else was he supposed to do to prove that he ought to be part of the company? It had been his idea to start the company, and yet he had no idea what he was doing.
“Mind if I join you?” A man in his late fifties took the stool next to Adam’s and motioned to the bartender.
“Not at all,” Adam said, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Adam couldn’t place him.
“Macallan twenty-five,” the man said to the bartender. The bartender shook his head. “Ah, well then Macallan ten. No ice. What brings you to the hotel bar alone on a Friday night?”
Adam was a little perplexed. He wasn’t accustomed to meeting strangers in hotel bars, but this man seemed friendly enough. And it felt rather adult to have a conversation like this—two men exchanging pleasantries over a few drinks.
He shrugged. “Just feeling like a total failure lately.”
The man’s Scotch had arrived and he clinked his glass against Adam’s beer with a laugh. “That makes two of us,” he said.
They sat in silence for a moment, each taking long sips of their drinks.
“You know,” the man said, “the funny thing about failure is that you never see it coming. You really think you’re on the right course and then, out of nowhere, it hits you that you’ve been fucking things up all along.”
Adam wasn’t totally sure he understood what the man was saying, but he nodded anyway.
“My problem,” Adam said, “is that I’m in unknown territory. Like, I have all these things that I want to accomplish, and this great vision of what it should look like when it’s done, but I haven’t got a clue what I’m actually supposed to be doing, you know? What I’m supposed to be doing day-to-day to get to where I want to be.”
The man turned to him and smiled. “Do you drink Scotch?”
“I never have.”
“Well, that’s the first thing you need to do.” He turned to the bartender and motioned for another Macallan. “Act like who you want to be, down to every last little detail, and eventually, you’ll become that person. Trust me.”
Adam liked this guy. He started to relax and forget about Doreye and contemplate who he wanted to be. James Bond immediately jumped to mind. The man seemed to relax, too, as they drank their Scotch and made small talk.
“I have another problem,” Adam confessed.
“What’s that? Let’s see if I can solve that one, too,” the man said jovially. Talking to this kid was making him feel useful.
“There’s this girl.”
“Uh-oh. Here we go. Tell me about her.”
“She’s perfect.”
The man laughed. “Aren’t they all? At first, anyway.”
“She’s smart and funny and beautiful and … I think I love her. But she’s holding back, and I think I know why. Well, I do know why. It’s because she doesn’t think her father would approve of me.”
“What’s not to approve of? You seem perfectly respectable.”
“It’s just that her father is kind of a big deal, and I’m not…”
“Can I tell you a secret?” The man leaned in and whispered to Adam. “I’ve been told I’m ‘kind of a big deal,’ and there’s nothing about you I wouldn’t approve of.”
He pulled back and sipped his Scotch. “Especially considering who my daughter’s dating. Jesus. Nice kid, but no spunk. I can’t figure out what she’s thinking.”
Adam felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked down at the text message.
“It’s her!” he exclaimed. “She wants to meet at the beach!”
The man chuckled. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get going.”
“May I—?” Adam asked as he reached for his wallet.
The man rolled his eyes. “Who are you kidding? This one’s on me. It was great chatting with you. Good luck with the girl … and her dad.”
52
Look, But Don’t Touch
Adam dashed through the lobby, past the large Christmas tree display stretching up to the chandelier, past the designer gift shops, around the pool, and down the boardwalk. He didn’t slow down until he saw Lisa’s moonlit outline in the white gazebo at the beginning of the sand, where they’d agreed to meet. She was looking at the waves, her long dress blowing softly in the breeze. It was like something out of a movie.
“Lisa!” he called out, running the length of the boardwalk and up the gazebo steps.
She turned and smiled. She wore a high-waisted navy chiffon dress with slim crisscross straps that showed off her gently sloping shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in a side twist with a hibiscus flower tucked behind her ear. Her makeup shimmered; her lips glistened in the moonlight.
Adam was suddenly self-conscious about his flip-flops, shorts, and ratty t-shirt, but Lisa didn’t seem to notice. He put his hands around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. “You look absolutely stunning,” he whispered.
She returned his kiss, but quickly put her hands on his chest, determinedly. “Wait. We have to talk. I have something I have to tell you.”
Adam felt his heart drop. Her eyes were serious and sad. And he knew: She was going to end it. Suddenly, the memories of her never wanting to be called his girlfriend, of how seldom she’d slept over this quarter, of how long it took her to text him back, all hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d been in such denial that he hadn’t wanted to accept the truth. The man at the bar was wrong. He wasn’t good enough for Lisa or her father.
“Yeah, I know.” He pulled away, swallowing hard and turning from her to sit down on the gazebo bench, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and looking down at his feet.
“You do?” She didn’t understand. “Did Amelia—?”
“You’re not that into me. It’s obvious. And you’re ending it.”
“No! I mean, that’s not what I…”
But Adam didn’t hear her. The Scotch was pulsing through his veins and he was suddenly feeling confident and articulate—and angry.
“You know what bothers me, though?” He stood up and walked back toward her. “You never gave me a real chance. As sweet as you were, I was always the bar boy from your brother’s fancy party. I didn’t fit into your rich, exclusive world.”
“That’s not—”
“But you know what, Lisa? You may be embarrassed to stand next to me now, but someday … someday I’ll fit right into your little moneyed world, and you’ll be sorry.”
“Adam!” she snapped. “This has nothing to do with money.” She was shaking her head in frustration. “My God, Adam. Do you have any idea how much I care about you? How much I love you? But my past is complicated—”
Adam touched his finger to her lips to make her stop talking, a glimmer of hope restored in his voice. “What did you say?”
“I said my past is complicated.”
“Before that. Did you say … you love me?”
“Yes, Adam. I love you. But—”
Suddenly all his distress transformed to joy. Adam felt like he was going to explode with happiness. He grinned from ear to ear and pulled Lisa into a close hug, kissing her mouth hard, again and again. “No ‘buts’!” he exclaimed. “You love me, you love me, you love me. It’s the only thing that matters.”
Lisa laughed and let her arms fall around his. He looked so happy, and that made her so happy. How could she ruin this moment?
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter, okay?” he said. “We’re together now, and I love you so, so much.”
She smiled and leaned her forehead against his. Faint music from the Hawkins party drifted in the air and “All I Want for Christmas Is You” started playing, as if on cue. Lisa pressed her cheek against Adam’s and they swayed to the song in the m
oonlight. Adam listened to the lyrics and wondered whether Santa did exist, after all. And whether (dare he dream it?) maybe from now on he’d be one of those people who flew to Hawaii with his girlfriend’s family to celebrate the holidays.
Seconds later, Lisa’s phone rang in her purse, but she ignored it. A moment later it rang again. “I better get that,” she whispered, breaking their embrace to see who was calling.
“It’s my family. I have to go.” She pouted.
“No, you don’t. Stay.”
“Trust me, if I could be two places at once, I would.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said as she scurried down the gazebo stairs, her long dress flowing behind her.
As Adam started back, his eye caught the flower she’d been wearing in her hair. Like Cinderella’s slipper, he thought, as he picked it up. He walked out to the beach and sat in the sand, crossing his ankles and taking deep breaths of the fresh sea air.
He listened to the waves and reflected on the night. Lisa loved him! Could life be any better? He replayed her words and the sight of her lips in the moonlight—those lips that loved him, that he was allowed to kiss and admire, that belonged to him.
Then he thought about her good-bye. “If I could be two places at once, I would.” If only!
Wait, two places at once? With a start, his mind snapped to the airport gate that morning. All the expo participants had been on the same flight. He never would have missed seeing a woman who resembled Lisa. Was she not a passenger? TechCrunch had purchased the tickets and made sure they would all be on that plane. Why would they have made an exception for her?
Adam’s mind suddenly felt alert. He stood up, brushed the sand from his shorts, and walked, deliberately, back toward the hotel. He thought about his conversation with the man in the bar that night: Choose who you want to be and start to act like it. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he pictured himself as James Bond—the bad-ass blond 007 who took out guys left and right—and let the thought motivate him as he glanced around to make sure no one was looking. Then he carefully slipped through the door to the conference room where the booths were still displayed.
