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At the end of dessert, he makes a toast to Sissy. She did indeed land a high-level gig with a world-famous Silicon Valley tech company. Everyone offers her congratulations. Except him. He offers her wisdom. He’s been where she’s going. He knows the price of the status and responsibilities of leadership that she’s about to incur. And maybe that’s why she likes working with him. For an optimist, he never sweeps the challenges under the rug.
I knew it was going to end, I knew Sissy would be leaving. But the finality of it weighs heavily on me. She is my only trusted friend in the company. And as she calls a car to whisk her to the airport, I suddenly feel very unsettled.
Left behind. That’s where I am. With Sissy gone, the only reason to come to Chicago office now is David’s time. And he has several reasons to come to Vegas. For one, business here is funded and expanding quickly. For two, new people are here for him to teach and mentor. For three, I have introduced him to several people in the business community and we have started putting our firm brand onto the local map.
So, David and I are the odd couple again a few days at a time. He’s in the guest suite of the crash pad. I am in my suite.This is torture. Every night. I just want him to …
* * *
June 28, 4:45pm
It’s startingto seep into work. It’s the end of the day and we’re wrapping up at the Vegas office. Perhaps office is too much of an exaggeration – it’s a room in a suite, but it counts. It’s good enough. I picture myself as the sexy secretary to make the data entry less boring, and when he glances over at me, I blush.God damn it. I think he gives a little smile, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.But maybe I’m only at imagining things.
He has already sent everyone else home, so just us going over our task lists for tomorrow. Our desks are arranged for optimal collaboration so we’re both facing the door. There’s a knock on the door.I don’t think we were expecting anyone. Fortunately, I’m dressed professionally.Habit, I guess. I don’t show up to work in t-shirts and yoga pants, even if nobody is there to see me. Today I’m dressed in simple, dark gray pencil skirt and a white blouse (that may be a tad see through, but it’s so hard to find good white shirts!). I’m wearing discreet silver stud earrings, but no other jewelry. Very modest and proper.
“Hi.” It’s a middle-aged man. He is balding, with a scraggly beard, wearing octagonal shaped glasses – like John Lennon. “I just wanted to come in and introduce myself. I’m the pastor at the Church. We got your letter about the transition since you purchased the company and I just wanted to come and introduce myself in person. Here’s my check.” It’s enough to cover six months’ worth of his invoices. Well, that was an unexpected surprise. People paying early? It’s not much, but it makes me feel like we’re on the right track.
We have a short conversation with him about who we are, how his life is going to change for the better with us in charge of his technology, and what he can expect over the next months. And since we’re local, we’re not going away. Eventually, the pastor nods farewell and leaves, leaving behind a couple of bible study booklets.
David looks at me. He waits for the elevator to ding to make sure the pastor is gone. Then he bursts out in a laugh that I have not heard from him before. It feels like a dam just broke.
I look at the check. And I remember this event that looked intriguing. A private concert on this social network I joined forever ago, and then some stupid email notification popped up (I didn’t even remember I signed up for notifications). And tickets for are the exact same amount as the check I’m looking at. It’s the end of the day, David will be flying out at the end of tomorrow and we need dinner. It sort of feels like it’s meant to be.
* * *
Part II
The Chariot Awaits
* * *
Alice: “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?”
The Cheshire Cat: “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”
Alice: “I don't much care where.”
The Cheshire Cat: “Then it doesn't much matter which way you go.”
Lewis Carroll
* * *
9
Kitten Gone Wild
June 29
In retrospect, I probably should have read the event details more closely. We walk home and grab a quick dinner at our favorite ramen place downstairs. Then head upstairs and change. I slip on a sexy neck dress with white and black lines that comes down just to my mid-thigh – if I tug on it a bit. This is Vegas, after all. I walk out to show David and he just starts chuckling. “Are you the doppler effect?” he quips. “No, the lines would have to be vertical. These are horizontal,” I shoot back.
I notice that he managed to change very little of his appearance – he was wearing a dress shirt with his blue jeans and sport coat at the office, now he’s just wearing a black t-shirt with the same jeans and sport coat. I guess that’s acceptable, because Vegas? He calls a car, and we head downstairs.Is this a date? Are we on a date?
We take a car to downtown Las Vegas to meet up with the private concert goers. This is more than I expected. They actually have a private suite at one of the casinos that opens into the public space. Swanky. Bottle service. And in the middle of it all is a spark plug of a hostess who is in full control of the event. And she looks like a real-life barbie doll – exquisite features, blonde hair, perfect body. She’s wearing a dark dress with thick, wavy stripes. Very animalistic, and she does appear to be on the hunt.
David and I sit down at a corner table and order drinks. Mojito for him, Bellini for me. We observe the rest of the private concert goers, and notice that they all look very similar – how they dress, their haircuts, mannerisms, how they talk to one another, how sculpted their bodies are. It’s a strange vibe, one that we have not encountered before. The drinks come, and we just sit, sip, and share our observations.
Until she spots my dress. Suddenly, the hostess appears at our table, introduces herself as Laura and we kick off the conversation comparing our dresses and how they make our necklines look so artistic. Flattery and more flattery. She notices that David is not impressed and that puzzles her. Every other table that she’s approached flattered her to no end. And here’s David looking her over –and undressing her with his eyes, good god, I’m undressing her with my eyes– and giving off a “that’s nice but isn’t there something more to you?” vibe. I recognize that look. I faced it during my first meeting with him. It’s both unsettling and flattering. He recognizes the pretty, but he wants to know if there’s more to you.
