Come As You Are(41)

“Too pricey for my pauper budget,” I whisper to my friend.

“I’ll get it for you.”

“You’ll do no such thing. I’m not taking your cake handouts. Besides, I’d rather come to the office and act like a bear cub in your break room without you knowing.”

My friend places her order for two-dozen cupcakes, and as the woman packs the box, Courtney smacks her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

“Forgot to tell me what?”

“Your name came up the other day.”

“Was it for a fabulous job at a tech publication?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It was just in passing. I had my regular check-in call with Kermit, and he mentioned you.”

My spidey-sense tingles with suspicion. “What did he say? It can’t have been good since he told me he thought I was a hack.”

“I don’t think he thinks you’re a hack. I think he’s jealous of you.”

I scoff. “For what?”

“He wanted to know how your story with Flynn was going. He heard through the grapevine that Up Next was doing a feature, and that you were writing it, and he said, ‘That angel investor stole my scoop with Flynn.’”

I arch a brow. “Stole his scoop?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “You know how boys are. They’re so territorial. Peeing on everything. Marking it like it’s theirs.”

“It’s not his scoop. It’s my story.”

She pokes my shoulder. “You’re like a bear cub with a cake when it comes to that piece.”

“Damn straight.”

As she finishes her purchase, my attention wanders to a mini pink cupcake for a dollar fifty.

“I’ll take that one,” I say, and the woman drops it into a bag for me.



*

Later that day, I head to Flynn’s office. Even though we’re doing most of the interviews off-site, I do want to see a demo of Haven in action. As I walk to midtown, I toggle over to my podcast app and cue up one of Kermit’s shows.

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

With my earbuds in, I listen as I march across town. I catch a snippet of Kermit interviewing a CEO at a search giant, then tune in to a piece of another show about the top ten companies to watch. Next, I try a segment on trends in consumer technology.

I grit my teeth, frustrated.

Because they’re good.

All of them.

They’re compelling, fascinating, and I can’t believe how much I’m learning as I listen to Kermit and his team of reporters.

How much I’m enjoying their work. It’s irksome.

And so is the name that flashes on my screen.

Maureen.

Tension floods every molecule in my body.

My mother.

As I stop at a red light, I briefly weigh whether to look at her text now or later. But it’ll nag at me during my time at Flynn’s office, so I slide my thumb across to view it.



Maureen: Hey, baby! What’s shaking? I feel like I never talk to you anymore. Call your mom now and then, would you?



I draw a deep, calming breath, pretending I’m a bird soaring in the sky. My wings are spread, and I’m free of her. Free of hiding, free of lying, free of any hold she might have on me. Hell, I’ve been free for years, ever since she left Kevin and me, barely making time for us when I was in high school, leaving me to be the surrogate parent for her son.



Sabrina: Hi. Life is good. I’ve been busy with work! I’ll call soon.



I won’t call soon, but it’s easier to type than telling her the truth. I haven’t called her in years, and if she hasn’t realized that, she’s the foolish one.

As I cross the street, I kick her far out of my mind. I do the same to Kermit and his podcasts.



*

Flynn meets me at reception, then guides me through the offices. As he passes employees in the hall, he peppers them with questions about school plays and book clubs, remembering their kids’ names, their wives’ names, and so on.

When we reach his office, I say, “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Planned what?”

“To wander through the halls looking like the genial, amazing boss who everybody loves.”

“Yes, Sabrina, that’s exactly what I did. I’m really a horrible ass, but I want you to think I’m a wonderful guy, so I told my employees in advance to act like they like me. Are you fooled?”

I wink. “Completely.” I pause then add, “Also, my job is to be skeptical.”

He shakes his head, and his tone is intensely serious. “Don’t be skeptical about that. I do care deeply for them.”

When he walks me through the whiz-bang features of the smart home, including a British voice that talks back to me in a sexy-as-sin accent, I have to say, I’m suitably impressed.

“Want Daniel to make you tea or coffee?” Flynn gestures to the coffee grinder and the tea kettle on the counter of the demo home setup in the offices.

“Daniel, please make me some green tea,” I say to the white device on the table.

“Of course. Would you like anything with that? Some music, perhaps, as you wait?”

Laughing, I answer him, “Yes, please play the Broadway soundtrack to Aladdin.”