Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)(8)
She waited while the information was relayed to her uncle.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” her aunt said with a huge sigh of relief. “I’m sure the lawyer will wait, knowing the check will be coming. Your uncle will talk to him.”
In their minds the problem had been solved, and Will would once again get a free pass. They really believed, with the right lawyer and enough money, they could get their son out of anything. And thus far they’d been right. They had somehow convinced themselves that Will was a victim. All he needed was enough love and support, and everything would be fine. Allison tried to care about her cousin, but she couldn’t understand his parents’ irrational devotion. They had added so many colors to the truth they had actually painted a new reality.
Allison’s statement about talking to Giovanni wasn’t a total lie. She had spoken with him just last week, but she didn’t have any work scheduled. She could call him tomorrow and grovel, she supposed, unless he really did have something for her. He had become not only her employer, but also what she imagined a father should be. She had gained his complete loyalty when she agreed to work exclusively for him. He called her his muse and often asserted that she was giving up the chance to be a top model by staying in Boston instead of moving to New York. She disagreed. She was neither tall enough nor thin enough, and she was already too old by the fashion world’s standards. There was also the fact that she didn’t have the extra drive it would take to succeed. Besides, her ambitions were taking her in an entirely different direction.
Allison ended the call and, putting her relatives’ problems aside, hurried up the steps. Heavy snow had started to fall, and the chill in the air was biting.
There was a seat on the aisle three rows from the stage. She unzipped her vest, removed her scarf, sat back, and then remembered to turn her phone to mute.
Jordan was standing near the podium talking with the moderator. It would be easy to be envious of her, Allison thought. Jordan seemed to have it all. Not only was she brilliant; she was also very beautiful, with long auburn hair, sparkling eyes, and an infectious laugh. The moderator looked enthralled. Jordan spotted Allison and waved to her.
After a brief introduction, Jordan spoke for thirty minutes about her experience as a software developer and her current project creating programs to simplify computer learning. Allison hung on every word. Then came the questions. Some of the computer science majors were a bit condescending, no doubt trying to impress Jordan with their knowledge. Her answers were given so patiently and with such a sweet smile Allison wondered if any of the questioners realized they had just been taken down by an expert.
When the lecture was officially over, most of the audience began to file out, but a few diehards stayed behind to continue the discussion. After twenty minutes of back-and-forth, a couple of students asked more complex questions that piqued Allison’s interest. She listened intently to Jordan’s expert answers and was spurred by her own curiosity to raise her hand. Jordan turned and pointed in her direction. “Yes? Your question?”
Allison straightened in her chair and raised her voice. “I was wondering if you ever considered using Cobar to write your code for that particular program.”
All eyes were on her now. A few people exchanged puzzled glances. Cobar was an obscure programming language unknown to most of them.
Jordan stopped to think for a minute. “That’s a really interesting idea,” she answered. “Why would you think it would fit this application?”
Allison explained her reasoning, and before long the two women were engaged in a lively dialogue. At first, the other audience members who had remained behind tried to keep up with the conversation by asking for clarification, but it soon became apparent that most of them were lost. As the questions became more detailed—with Jordan asking Allison most of them—the dwindling audience began to lose interest, and one by one they exited the auditorium, leaving just Jordan, Allison, and a small band of fewer than a dozen students.
Becoming aware that most people had left, Allison glanced around at the empty chairs and spotted someone standing at the back of the auditorium. He was the same man she’d noticed outside on the steps. He was occupied, texting on his phone. He obviously wasn’t interested in the discussion, and yet he wasn’t leaving. He looked up, and for the briefest of seconds their eyes met. She could have sworn he smiled at her. She was certain she had never seen him before. She definitely would have remembered a man as fine-looking as that.
The moderator finally stopped the question-and-answer period by stepping forward and thanking Jordan for participating in the forum. Those still in the auditorium showed their appreciation with a round of applause. As she waited in her seat for Jordan to say good-bye to the moderator, Allison noticed a message on her phone from Dan. He was at the library and wanted her to text him when she was ready to walk home. He’d walk with her. She smiled when she read it. Dan was such a worrywart, but she was secretly grateful he considered himself her protector.
Allison quickly slipped her phone back into her pocket and made her way to the stage to say hello to Jordan, who was just coming down the steps.
“Was I as boring as I thought I was?” Jordan asked.
The moderator had turned out the stage lights and was locking up the auditorium.
“No, you weren’t boring at all. How come some of those computer science boys were so condescending?”