I hustle through the ballroom on the lookout for the bathrooms. As I walk through the crowds of people, I keep my eyes peeled for celebrities and persons of interest, but besides spotting India Dellis again, I don’t see anyone I know.
In the bathroom, I slip past the plush chairs, lighted mirrors, and gossiping socialites, enter the area of toilet stalls, and pick the farthest unoccupied stall. I close and lock the door, then call up Carlos.
“Boss, what’s up?”
Carlos’s hair is a mess, and his eyes are droopy with sleep.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping? You know you’re supposed to stay on Palo Alto time, or you’re going to get time sick.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, yawning. “I fell asleep reading boring manuals. Anyway?”
“Switch to encrypted text,” I say, leaning against the marble wall. These bathroom stalls sure are swanky.
“Okay,” he texts. “Now you have me intrigued.”
“I need your hacking abilities. Can you access the silent bidding system at this auction? I need to win a particular prize.”
“Need to? Or want to?” he texts.
“Does it matter?”
“Not really. Just giving you shit.”
“Ha, ha. Need to. So here’s the thing. I want to bid 3,000 credits on an item, and I don’t want to be overbid. I’m happy to pay the 3,000, but I have to win the item.”
“Hold on,” he texts.
While I wait for him, I tap my foot and turn in circles. Please, please let this work.
“Okay, I’m in. No problem,” he texts.
I pump my fist.
“It’s item seventy-eight. 3,000 credits,” I text.
“There’s already a top bid of 4,500 credits,” he texts back.
I groan and look at the ceiling. My karma is going into the toilet over this, taking money away from a charity, but I’ll have to figure out some way to make up for it.
“Erase it. My 3,000 credit bid should be at the top and stay there.”
“Okay, you’re all good. Your 3,000 credit bid will stay at the top. I’ll keep an eye on it all evening. There are no recent logins from the auction staff. They’re probably not anticipating any problems with it,” he texts.
“Yes. Thank you!”
“No problem, boss. That’s why I’m here,” he texts and signs off.
You’re more valuable than just being a hacker, Carlos. You always have been.
I take a deep breath, in and out, flush the toilet, wash my hands, walk past the socialites, and out the door.
Straight into Takemo Diaz.
Oof. I crash into him, and all the air rushes from my lungs. My hair flies into my face and gets caught in my mouth and on my lipstick.
“Whoa, there,” he says, steadying me by my shoulders and pulling back. “In a bit of a rush, Skylar?”
“Jesus. Did you purposely step in front of me?” I huff and put all my hair where it belongs.
“Yes. Yes, I did, actually. Couldn’t just let you scurry away. Have you been avoiding me all evening?” he asks, shoving a hand in his pocket.
This stops me. Wait a second here. The balance of power has shifted.
“Me? Avoiding you? I didn’t even know you were here. The party has just begun. We haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”
I suspected he was here, but I hadn’t seen him. It looks like he had seen me first.
“That’s a likely story.” He arches an eyebrow. And damn if that doesn’t make him one of the most handsome men in the room. One of them. Saif is up there, having outgrown his gangly limbs and babyface.
“Well?” I ask, raising my shoulders. “What do you want? I already know what I want from you.”
His smirk turns perturbed.
“Do you ever really know what you want, Skylar Kawabata? Or is it five items on a menu and fifteen minutes of bliss?”
“What?” My lungs are light, and my head is full of hot air. What did he just say to me?
“Nothing,” he says, softening. “I wanted to tell you that your mother started working for me today. That Mikasa is a fine ship. I’m sure it’ll haul garbage for a good many years.”
“I’m sure it will.” I harden my stance and lock my jaw in place before I completely lose it on this guy. There are too many witnesses here, and I can’t have the media telling everyone that I’m some troublemaking woman who threw down at a charity auction. “After all, it’s been running like a charm for over thirty years now. Still no chance you’ll sell her to me?”
“Sorry,” he says, tipping his head to the side.
I had hoped that my first innocent volley in this war would have tripped him up enough to reconsider, but that was just too innocuous. My second campaign will have to be more convincing.
“But I’ll tell you what,” he continues. “I won’t report you to Ossun Orbital Station Management for putting crickets in my wall if you introduce me to your date, Saif Bhaat.”
I almost laugh at this. Almost. But I have had years of practice at keeping my face neutral. It was how I dealt with everything at home. If I didn’t show my mother’s consorts just how upset I was, then I won. They took every little freedom I had away from me, and they always waited for me to lose it on them, since my temper about everything else is legendary. It would have been the perfect excuse to keep me cowed and under lock and key, like some indentured servant. But I never cracked. Not even once.
I am a master bluffer.
I shouldn’t have or even need this skill, but here we are.
“Crickets? How strange. They’re in your wall, you say?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. I know it was you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It’s a stare-down now. His eyes won’t let mine go, and I refuse to look away.
Yes! He’s the first to break. “Come on. An introduction? Saif and I went to the same school, but our paths never crossed.”
My eyes drop to suspicious slits. “Are you into men? Because I don’t think he is.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “No. Not at all. Women are more my speed. Curvy, headstrong, and fiery women who infuriate me.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. I throw my hair over my shoulder and begin to walk away.
“Fine. Come on. I’ll introduce you. You get five minutes of chatting, and then you’ll be on your way. I’m here to date Saif, not both of you.”
“Oh, but you could, if you wanted to,” he counters.
I find it hard to swallow. The more we speak, the more I’m sure he’s into me.
How can I use this to my advantage?
“In your dreams, Takemo.”
“Saif, look at the filth I found in the bathroom.”
Takemo laughs while others at the table watch in horror. Saif turns from talking to the man next to him to address me with a smile. He leans away even farther to see Takemo Diaz.
“So, you do know Takemo Diaz, then.”
“Unfortunately,” I mumble. “And he’s asked that I introduce you. Saif Bhaat, Takemo Diaz.” I wave between them before I reach over to grab my gin and tonic from the table. While I’ve been gone, the waitstaff have delivered appetizers and salads, and my mouth waters with hunger. I don’t remember eating earlier after the spa visit. I don’t think I did.
Before I can sit down, Takemo shakes Saif’s hand and slides into my chair at the table.
What the…? The nerve of this guy.
I puff a heated breath through my nose, my temper rising. Is it not already bad enough that this guy has purchased my business out from under me? Now he wants to steal my date as well?
But Marcelo chose carefully. Saif has always been a steady presence. He’s quiet and sure of himself, even under the strict scrutiny of his family. He sees my rising temper, alights from his chair, and holds it out for me, offering his hand.
“Sit here, Skylar.” He reaches over and drags my salad to his place. “This is delicious. I’m sure you’l
l love it.”
I hesitate for a moment, sure that I don’t deserve this kindness, this awareness. I’ve been ignored for so long, it’s hard to believe someone can look at me and understand what I need. I take his hand and make eye contact with him. His smile is warm.
“Thank you.” The words are strangled as I push them past the lump in my throat. I sit in the chair and squeeze Saif’s hand before I let go.
Takemo glances at the other people at the table. His hands fidget at the buttons of his coat. “I asked Skylar for an introduction since I ran into her over by the restrooms. We both attended Discovery Primeiro, did you know?”
Saif settles into the space behind me as I lift my fork and knife to eat the salad.
“Yes. I think you were two years ahead of me? In my sister’s year?”
Takemo nods, glancing at me. I keep my eyes on my salad and pretend the conversation has nothing to do with me.
“Your family was always a significant presence at the school. Yes, I knew your sister. She was quite sure of herself. I don’t know why we never met.”
“I don’t know either,” Saif says, his voice kind.
“Would you like to go get a drink at the bar?” Takemo asks, standing up. “I don’t want to bore Skylar with our conversation.”
Well, fuck. Here we go.
I can’t count how many times men have left me on a date. They get up to grab a drink at the bar, and then I never see them again. I live a life of two extremes. They either stick around for the roll in the hay, or they determine I’m not worth the time. Sometimes, the second thing happens after the first.
This is why I resort to the sexbots. They never leave. They never tell me I’m good for nothing. They perform their job and don’t ask for anything else.
I spear the lettuce with my fork, and the plate jumps.
A warm hand rests on my back between my shoulder blades.
“Perhaps later. Skylar and I were just getting caught up. We haven’t seen each other in several years, and we have a lot to chat about.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Takemo says, and I don’t hear an actual apology there. “I didn’t realize you were on a date. Skylar is not really the dating type.”
I pause with my knife and fork in the air. “You literally just met me a few days ago. How would you know?”
Takemo leans over. “I know plenty about you. You think I would buy your mother’s ships and contracts without understanding who her heir was? That would be bad business. Only the hard-working heirs who pay attention to the ins and outs of their work inherit the businesses. Not the lazy, hotheaded, and undesirable offspring.” His smile shows that he, once again, holds all the cards here.
Saif’s eyes are wide, and a woman across the table looks away when I make eye contact with her. This will be all over the duonet before the evening is over.
My chest aches with the hunger to rip him to shreds. Me, lazy? Never once in my life. Sure, I’m hotheaded, and I’m undesirable to lots of people. But lazy. No.
He’s baiting me, and I won’t take it. Not now. Not today.
“It would be bad business, I agree,” I say, smiling lightly at him.
He’s presenting me with two choices. I can step aside and let him take everything, and then he’ll concede and leave me alone. Or I can continue to fight him for my inheritance, and he will gladly defend himself. It’s war, and he will pull no punches.
I should back down. Fighting him will get me nowhere.
But I’m not ready to let go yet.
“Good to see you again, Takemo,” I say, returning to my salad. “Hopefully, we’ll play this game again sometime soon.”
Takemo turns to Saif. “Feel free to meet me at the bar for a drink whenever you have the chance.”
Saif doesn’t reply, and I’m not sure if he acknowledges Takemo because I can’t raise my eyes from my salad. The salad is suddenly the most interesting thing I have ever seen.
Saif sits down next to me, and he’s quiet for a moment.
“You’re right. This salad was delicious,” I say, setting my knife and fork down and dabbing at my lips with a linen napkin.
“Sky,” he says, his voice dropped. “Marcelo said nothing about you having lost your mom’s business.”
I grab my glass and drain the rest of my drink. “That’s because I only just told him a few hours ago.” I glance at my wristlet, and I’m surprised to see most of the evening has already raced away, and the main courses are being delivered to the tables. The silent auction will be over in an hour, and the winners announced.
And my date has just learned that I’m not as desirable as I was when he first laid eyes on me outside. Undesirable offspring, that’s me.
I raise my finger. “And I’d like to point something out. I did not lose my mother’s business. She did that all on her own, without my knowledge.”
We both lean away from the table as we’re served dinner. I got the seared beef with roasted potatoes and carrots, and Saif has a plate of saffron pasta with vegetables.
“You can go if you like,” I whisper at the plate in front of me. I can’t make eye contact with him. “I will completely understand. This… This is not what you bargained for.”
He snaps out of his head. “No. No, I think I’d like to hear the story behind this one.”
He reaches over and brushes a finger along the length of my jaw. This stops the breath in my lungs. When was the last time someone touched me so gently? Ages ago.
Okay, he wants to hear this? That’s fine. I’ll tell him. But his sweet smiles and caring nature won’t last long. That’s just the way things are.
I inhale and pop a brief smile at him.
“Well, we’re going to need a lot of booze then.”
I turn and raise my hand, catching the attention of a nearby waiter.
Time to get wasted.
15
“And so you see, I’m now without an inheritance. Just me, my ship, and a few employees I can’t really afford.” I raise my glass of red wine and toast the universe.
Thanks for fucking me over, Universe. Really appreciate it.
Saif winces. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad,” he says, pushing his dessert towards me. I spear it with my fork and pop the tiramisu into my mouth. God, it tastes incredible. It’ll go straight to my hips, but I don’t give a shit.
Everyone else at our table has moved on. They are all at the bar, dancing on the dance floor, or enjoying the Palo Alto evening air. The auction announcements are moments away.
“The worst part of this whole situation is that I really have nothing.” I gulp down a few more mouthfuls of wine. “No land. No business. No relationship network. The ship is only good for a few Flyght hauls per month, which will keep me afloat, but nothing more. Certainly not enough to build a network… or have kids… or whatever.”
I wince as I look down at my plate, and it swims. It does this little dance where it splits into two and tries to come back together again.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just realized I ate that entire plate of red meat right in front of you. I am just… callous. I can’t believe I did that.” Saif used to eat apart from all the other meat-eaters at far-school. I had forgotten.
“Skylar,” he says, dropping his head to make eye contact with me, “I’ve grown up in the last ten years. It doesn’t bother me anymore. Don’t worry about it.” He glances at his empty glass of whisky and rubs his face. “So, what are we going to do about this, huh?”
“We?” I ask, pressing my hand to my chest and laughing. I stress, “We are not going to do anything about this. I am going to figure out how to live on a meager income, and then I plan to fly until I turn old and gray. I’ll keep trying to get the ships back, but…” I shake my head. “Only my cousin has that kind of luck with getting property back. Me? I’ve lost more things, or had them taken away from me, than I’ve actually owned.”
Saif reaches over to take my hand in his, and when I reflexively pull away, he holds on tighter.
I don’t like where this conversation is going.
“Mmm-hmm.” My voice is watery and filled with red wine. Untrustworthy.
“You showed up, and I could have sworn you had been crying before the train arrived, but when I questioned you about it, you begged me off. You were… just not the same that trip, and that was the first time I realized your life at home was very different from mine. I always thought girls were the cherished ones.”
I huff a laugh and reach for my wine glass, but it’s empty. I snap my hand back.
“What happened?” he asks.
I pull my lips in and shake my head as the tears surface.
“No. Nope. Not going to talk about it.” I pull in a deep breath through my nose and bring anger back. Anger keeps me from crying. “Saif, it’s not worth it to dig up the past. I’d rather leave it all behind.”
“But you haven’t left it behind, have you?”
I can’t answer this. Of course, I haven’t left it behind. My whole world revolves around my family and how they’ve screwed me over or continue to fleece me in every possible way. They either want money or my time and labor, and I have stupidly given them these things without demanding respect or care in return. And here I am, continuing to let them abuse me, even while I’m trying to save them. I am hopeless. How did I turn out to be the only sane and empathetic person in the bunch? I’m not even that great of a person.
Saif waits for my answer, but I can only look at him. My breathing slows as I compare him to the kid I knew so long ago. This Saif is so handsome. He’s tall now, and his dark skin glows with good health. He’s been a fabulous date all night, kind and caring.
I don’t deserve someone like him.
I’m sorry, Marcelo.
“Distinguished guests,” a voice booms out over the ballroom. Saved. “Auction results have been posted to individual booths, and we have pinged all the winners via their duonet auction accounts. Thank you all for coming and for supporting this amazing early cancer screening charity. We’re so grateful you’ve been here with us. Let’s give a round of applause for everyone who came, participated, and donated tonight.”
An Unexpected Debt Page 11
