by Joan Kilby
No, she was being paranoid. He must have enjoyed it. Worry over the pitch had to be the cause of his strange behavior.
She got out of the shower, toweled off, and dressed in the skirt and blouse she’d brought to wear for the presentation. When she stepped in front of the mirror, she hesitated. She’d chosen the outfit because of its sober professionalism. But now that she was wearing it she didn’t feel attractive. She didn’t want Scott to see her in something unflattering. If he was having second thoughts, she didn’t want to give him any fuel for his doubts. Quickly, she slipped off the clothes and put on the red fitted dress she’d brought for dinner tonight.
In the dining room she gave her suite number to the hostess and grabbed a plate at the buffet. Normally, she loved a big breakfast, but the sight of scrambled eggs and sausages made her stomach lurch so she took only a piece of dry toast and a bowl of fruit salad. Across the room, seated by the window, Scott, Lorraine, and Tod were already eating. Outside, it was still pouring with rain, the glass streaked and fogged.
“Good morning,” she said as she took her place at the table. “Sorry I’m late.”
Scott started to nod, then did a double take when he saw what she was wearing. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shoved in a forkful of blueberry pancakes instead.
“No worries.” Lorraine cut into a rare steak on which rested two lightly fried eggs oozing yolk. “Sleep well?” she said with a knowing wink.
“Yes, thank you.” A tinge of heat crept into her cheeks. “Shame about the weather.”
“It’s supposed to lift this afternoon,” Tod said. “Just a tick, I’ll get the latest update.” He consulted his BlackBerry. “Yep, clearing late morning with sunny breaks in the afternoon.”
“The trails will still be too wet to be safe, won’t they?” Cassy asked.
“I’m game if Scott is,” Lorraine said. “I’ve dragged you both up here expressly for the mountain biking. Scott says there are one or two chip bark trails that should be rideable.”
“All right,” Cassy said. “I guess we can do the presentation tomorrow.”
Scott’s expression was carefully blank as he reached for his coffee. “Lorraine wants us to do the pitch this morning.”
Cassy nearly choked on her juice. Despite Scott’s practice last night, they weren’t ready. She still had to make copies of her report, for one thing.
“Immediately after breakfast,” he added.
“I heard there’s a geothermal plant nearby,” Lorraine said. “I want to go check it out before lunch so we’ll get the pitch out of the way early. Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all.” Cassy smiled brightly even as the knot in her stomach tightened. “We’re good to go anytime, aren’t we, Scott?”
…
In a meeting room on the mezzanine floor, Scott read through his notes for the fifth time, the papers rattling in his trembling hands. The pancakes, bacon, and coffee weren’t settling in his stomach and fatigue had given him a raging headache. Getting carried away and making love all night long had been a potentially career-derailing mistake. That’s what sex did to people; it made them lose their judgment. Abandon all rational thought.
Cassy was crawling around on the floor with the cord from her laptop, trying to find the correct outlet on the electrical panel for PowerPoint presentations. “Where the hell… Oh, there it is.” She plugged in, then scrambled to her feet and glanced around, her hands on her hips. “Where’s the whiteboard?”
“Did you remember to request one?”
“Of course. I specifically asked the concierge for a whiteboard while you were checking us in yesterday.” Strands of hair had escaped her sleek ponytail, making her look as frazzled as he was.
“They weren’t expecting us to be using the room until this afternoon.”
“Oh, God, you’re right. I didn’t change the time.” Cassy flipped open her phone and called the front desk. A moment later, she clicked off. “They’re bringing a whiteboard up.”
“Did you get the PowerPoint working?” he asked.
“Of course it’s working,” she snapped. “Do you think I would drop a task before it’s finished?”
“I don’t think anything. I’m trying to learn my lines.”
“You know your subject backward and forward. Just get up there and talk. You’re not going to memorize a speech now.”
“I know that. Why do you think I’m so damn nervous? Jeez, we never should have…” He broke off, wiping a hand across his damp forehead.
“We never should have what?” she demanded, coming nose to nose with him.
“I should never have jumped you.” He knew better than to get busy with his best friend. Which was why he’d avoided it all these years. But he hadn’t been able to help himself.
Then their eyes locked and he went from feeling testy to turned on. She looked so hot in that tight red dress. A faint fragrance of the hotel’s luxury lotions wafted to him from her smooth, lightly tanned skin.
But Cassy didn’t look aroused. She looked pissed and disappointed and wary. “So you do regret last night?”
Her emphasis on “do” made it sound as if they’d already had this conversation, but as far as he knew, they hadn’t. Yes, he was distracted but surely he would have remembered. Wouldn’t he? “I, uh…”
A young man in a hotel uniform poked his head around the door. “Did you call for a whiteboard?”
“Right over there, at the end of the table,” Cassy directed, busily moving away to help position it even though in Scott’s opinion, the task didn’t require two people.
He sat down and tried to look over his notes again but his concentration was shot. It didn’t matter anyway. No sooner had the bellhop left than Lorraine and Tod arrived. Tod carried a briefcase and his BlackBerry. Lorraine wore a black pin-striped power suit that made her look like a banker and reminded him of just why this meeting was so important. As if he could forget. Her earthy good humor had been traded in for a serious and stern demeanor.
“Welcome,” Cassy said enthusiastically. “If you’ll take a seat we’ll get started.”
“Lorraine’s car will be here to take her to the geothermal plant in half an hour,” Tod said, scrolling through his BlackBerry.
“Half an hour?” Scott repeated. “I thought we had an hour.”
“That was before I heard about the power plant,” Lorraine explained.
Damn. Their presentation took a full forty-five minutes, leaving fifteen minutes for questions. Scott met Cassy’s gaze. He could almost feel the despair flow between them. What more could go wrong?
Lorraine turned to Tod. “Where’s Silvio?”
Even as she spoke, the door opened and a sleek dark-haired man in gray pants and a black pullover entered. “Sorry I’m late. My plane was delayed getting into Seattle.”
Lorraine introduced Silvio Lambretto as a nanotechnology expert she’d had flown up from Australia for the meeting. They all took their places around the table. Silvio opened a laptop. Tod set his BlackBerry in front of him, fingers poised to take notes. Lorraine leaned back and doodled on a pad of paper. Despite her casual posture, Scott had no doubt she was listening acutely.
He scarcely heard Cassy’s introduction. He guessed she shortened it though, since she stumbled once or twice over the points she was making. When it was his turn to speak, his heart was pounding and his mouth was dry. He discarded the notes because they betrayed his shaking hands and simply rattled on about the Dreamcatcher and what it could do.
“Simply put, the Dreamcatcher is an interface between a computer and the human brain using nanotechnology,” he said. “We inject nanites, or microscopic robots, into the bloodstream. These migrate to the brain where they collect in specific sites. The nanites interface with neurons to gather images and words from brain waves during sleep or a meditative state. A special cap fits over the person’s skull.” He produced the metal cap that was as soft and flexible as a knitted beanie. “The cap captures the b
rain waves as electronic transmissions on this portable computer.” He indicated the prototype he’d built for the presentation that was the size of a laptop computer.
“I’m aware of the use of nanotechnology in medical research,” Silvio said. “What are your plans for it?”
Scott perched on the edge of the table. “The applications of this technology are endless…psychiatry, education, entertainment. Writers, artists, and musicians will be able to download words, images, and notes directly from their brain to the computer during a burst of creativity, then edit and rework them at their leisure.”
“Wow!” Tod said, blinking.
Silvio leaned forward, frowning. “So the nanites can not only pick up and record the contents of brain waves but they can also transmit information to the brain?”
“That’s right,” Scott said. “You can see the possibilities for learning.”
“And brainwashing,” Lorraine said. “The military would love to get their hands on this.”
“They’re doing their own research.” The Pentagon had offered him a high-powered job, funding, and a government lab when they’d found out what he was working on. He had turned them down flat. He wanted his brainchild to be used for good, not as a weapon. They would get to the stage he was at eventually, but he wasn’t going to help them.
Lorraine tapped her pen on the table. “So if I put on this cap and wired myself up, I could record my ideas without having to touch a keyboard?”
“If you had been injected with nanites, yes,” Scott said. “You could wear it at night and record your dreams if you wanted to. I think that’s going to be a popular application.”
“That’s why you called it Dreamcatcher,” Tod said. “Unbelievable.”
“What are these nanites you keep talking about?” Lorraine asked.
Scott flipped through the PowerPoint slides until he found a microphotograph of a nanite. From its crystalline blue structure, stick-like appendages protruded that could attach to other nanites and to neurons.
“Basically, they’re microscopic robots about a nanometer in diameter, hence the term, nanotechnology.”
“How do you get them into the brain?” Tod asked. “Surely this technology won’t be in everyday use.”
“It will be,” Scott said confidently. “I envisage preprepared syringes loaded with nanites that can be injected by trained technicians at the Dreamcatcher store. Or by a family doctor if a customer prefers. It takes twenty-four to forty-eight hours for the nanites to migrate and begin functioning.”
Lorraine shook her head, eyes wide. “It’s science fiction. Or magic.”
“It’s neither science fiction nor magic. It’s science, proven through rigorous testing.” Scott glanced at each face around the table. “As amazing as the Dreamcatcher seems, I assure you, it’s very real.”
Silvio was doing some calculations on a notepad. “How will the average person be able to store all the information collected?”
“My techies have developed a holographic versatile disc that can hold up to six terabytes of information,” Scott said.
Tod whistled. “That alone would be worth investing in.”
Lorraine was still shaking her head. “I don’t know. It seems so far-fetched. Silvio, what do you think? Is this guy pulling our leg or is it really viable science?”
“It’s far more advanced than anything currently on the market,” Silvio said. “Or even that I’ve heard of being developed in research laboratories.”
“Cassy, let’s show them the video of Leonard’s dream.” He permitted himself a small smile. “The one rated PG.”
“Yes, great idea.” She motioned to the laptop. “Go on, you’ve got the control. You did put it on the PowerPoint file, didn’t you?”
His smile faded. He came closer to her and spoke in a low voice. “I thought you did.”
“No, that’s your department,” she whispered. “I did the market projections.”
“You’re the PowerPoint guru.”
She shrugged unhappily.
Shit! All that hype and they had nothing to back up their claims. He couldn’t believe it. Scott turned to Lorraine and the others. “It appears we don’t have that file with us. I’ve got some still images.”
He fumbled in his briefcase and brought out a blurry, dark image. “This one’s hard to interpret. I have others… ” Tod quickly passed the photograph along to Silvio and looked at his watch. Scott glanced in desperation to Cassy. He was losing them. “Show them your marketing info and business projections.”
“Never mind.” Lorraine pushed away the photo without so much as a cursory glance. “Sounds promising, Scott. But I’ve got to go.”
Scott gritted his teeth and thanked her for coming. He resisted the urge to apologize for his poor performance. “If you, Tod, or Silvio have any questions I’ll be more than happy to answer them either now or at a later date. I’ll see you this afternoon and we’ll go mountain biking.”
Lorraine pumped his hand with her bone-crushing grip. “I’m looking forward to it. Meantime, I have one question. If your Dreamcatcher really can do all you say, it will undoubtedly cost a small fortune. How many people will be able to afford it?”
“The cost is still being assessed, but making it affordable is a top priority,” he assured her. “Folks will take to it in droves.”
“I guess time will tell.” With that, Lorraine sailed out the door.
Scott turned to Tod. “Once I’m back in Seattle, I’ll find that video and send you copies.”
“I’ll give you my marketing report today for you to take away and study at your leisure,” Cassy added.
“Great, thanks.” Tod held out his hand for the report. He didn’t quite snap his fingers but he gave that impression. “Well, have you got the document?”
“I’ll have to make copies.” Cassy pushed her fraying hair back. “I intended to do that this morning but then the rain happened and I got caught short of time.”
“Okay, whatever.” Tod walked off to catch up with Lorraine, who was halfway down the corridor, waiting for the elevator.
Silvio hung back to shake Scott’s hand. “If your Dreamcatcher actually works it’ll be amazing. You’re much farther along than PacTech.”
“That’s good to know.” Since it was my idea.
Silvio lowered his voice. “If you want my advice, be better prepared next time you pitch to Lorraine. She hates wasting her time.”
Scott waited until they had disappeared into the elevator and then groaned and clenched his fists in frustration. “I can’t believe I forgot that video. Everything hinged on them seeing it with their own eyes. If we’d had more time we could have hooked me up and given them a real demonstration.”
“I didn’t even get a chance to show them my marketing strategy,” Cassy said. “I worked my butt off on that. It wasn’t easy because I’ve never completed one before but I figured it out and I’m proud of it. I bet they don’t even read my report when I get it to them.” Her shoulders slumped. “This wasn’t our finest hour.”
No, they’d saved that for the bedroom. And now they were paying for it. Scott dragged a hand through his hair. The adrenaline had worn off and he was fatigued in every cell of his body from lack of sleep, a nagging disappointment, and self-reproach. Cassy, who normally wore a more or less permanent smile, was sad, sober, and worried-looking. Was that just about the presentation or did she regret last night?
They walked out of the meeting room and headed for the elevators. “I need to rest if I’m going to go mountain biking later,” he said.
“Rest as in sleep?” Cassy cast him a swift sideways glance.
“Definitely sleep.” He hit the button for their floor. “What are you going to do?”
“I might take a walk.” She handed him her laptop as the elevator door opened. “Do you mind taking this up for me?”
“Sure, no problem.” As the doors closed on her walking toward the curving staircase down to the lobby it occurred to
him that he should have hugged her or kissed her or something. He was preoccupied, and he wasn’t used to thinking of Cassy as a lover. He often forgot to do stuff for his girlfriends. But this was Cassy and he didn’t want to treat her badly.
She’d seemed kind of distant this morning. Was it him, or was she putting up barriers? Since they’d slept together, he was having trouble talking to her the way he used to, joking and saying whatever popped into his mind. He was second-guessing himself.
In the old days, he would have simply asked Cassy to interpret for him. But how could he ask his romance adviser and only true confidant what he should be doing next for his girlfriend, when she was his girlfriend?
Chapter Eight
“What are these?” Cassy stared stupidly at the tiny bouquet of delicate white and purple flowers that Scott had just handed to her in their hotel suite. They were exquisitely pretty but it was late afternoon and she had just woken from a nap that had left her not refreshed, but cranky. It didn’t help that she blamed herself for this morning’s debacle.
“Wildflowers.” His legs were splattered in mud below his biking shorts, there was a tear in the shoulder seam of his shirt, and his thick hair had been flattened by his helmet. He waited for her response, shifting from bike shoe to bike shoe.
Women love that shit.
And she would, too, if she didn’t know Scott gave women wildflowers when he was trying to get out of a relationship gracefully, or when he didn’t care enough about them to spontaneously know what they would like. Great. She’d just joined the ranks of the long line of women he’d loved and abandoned.
“They’re weeds, Scott. Did you find them growing at the edge of the parking lot?” She tossed them on the coffee table and walked away. There wasn’t anywhere to go but the bedroom. He followed her in there. Immediately, she turned around and walked out again, fighting tears. He hadn’t kissed her or touched her once since they’d made love.
