“Out of curiosity, what did you tell her about me?”
“Ah, you know. Regular Jewel user, clever, well-connected, good instincts, plenty of ambition, interested in helping. Good with people, great listener, and quick with an embarrassing nickname.”
I suppressed a laugh. “So now I have to give her one, is what you’re saying?”
“If you only give one to me, I won’t complain about being special.” She grinned. “And I mentioned the green eyes. So she’d be able to spot you easily, but soon she’ll see why I made a point of them.”
I laughed, a warm feeling in my throat. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Uh, yeah, actually. My bad. That’s on me.” She scratched her head, her awkward side instantly jumping back out. “Hard not to when it’s you. That’s probably also flirting. Won’t happen again.”
I was almost disappointed to hear it. “Will it not?”
“I mean, I told Estelle it wouldn’t, so it had better not.”
Ha. Right. Cassandra Evans-Pierre was married. No matter what that marriage looked like, and no matter how fun it was to flirt with her, I wasn’t supposed to. “Well, I guess we’ll see if you’re a woman of your word, won’t we, Houdini?”
She gave me a dry smile. “Are you flirting with me, now?”
“Ah, yeah, I think so. That’s on me this time.”
She laughed, giving me a light push in the way I’d been doing with her. “Okay, I love the elevator hallway as much as you do, but get a move on. She’s through the doorway on the right. I’ll be with you in a sec. How do you take your coffee?”
“Splash of oat milk if you have it.”
“In this hipster place? I’m pretty sure oat milk runs from the faucets. I’ll be right back with it.”
Krysten Adesina was hard to miss, and not just for the flashy red jacket. She was a woman with a big presence, talking and laughing together with the three other people at the long table by the tall glass windows, and she looked up at me when I came through the doorway into the space with her, standing up and putting a hand out.
“You are Helena Warrick, then,” she said, her voice rich with the warm cadence of a strong Nigerian accent. “You are exactly as the little one described.”
“The little one?I see you’re quick with an embarrassing nickname, as well, then,” I said, shaking her hand. “Call me Helena. You’re Krysten?”
“Yes, I am Krysten. Sit, sit. I hear you’re interested in our work. My friend spoke of you quite highly.”
I could not believe her. Either of them, her or Estelle. Well, Estelle I could absolutely believe would do this, but…
The responsible thing to do would be to turn her down politely, explain the situation, and leave. I could only imagine Linyue’s reaction if she found out I’d let Estelle and my friend from the Williamsburg party—let alone a married woman I had a little bit of a crush on by now—lead me into an impromptu interview in an unrelated field. But… as far as she knew, I was just having a meeting with an agency representative right now.
And I guess sometimes I liked to get involved in things I shouldn’t have.
“Cassandra flatters me,” I said, sitting down across from her. “But she’s right that I’m very interested in your work. I’m very well-acquainted with your app and how it’s used in the everyday context.”
“Hm.” A smile flitted over her face at Cassandra’s name, but she didn’t say anything more on it. I suppose they had history. “She tells me you are looking for a career shift.”
“That’s a strong term. I’m more… interested in branching out. It’s lucky, I think, that your work and mine are already connected.”
“Why do you coach your interest?” she said, and I flinched a little at the directness. “Do you think I do not see through it?”
“Oh, well…” I wasn’t used to people just saying something upfront. Maybe that was what happened when you changed into a new field. Maybe I didn’t mind being taken out of my comfort zone a little. If Houdini was doing it, so could I. “I guess it’s more accurate to say I don’t want to leave behind my old work altogether. I like it. I just… I’ve always been fascinated by startup culture. I know you’re operating in a highly competitive market, and I’ve wondered what it is you do to stay ahead.”
Krysten smiled, satisfied, leaning back in her chair. “This one wants to see inside the sausage factory, then. Do you know what you’re getting into, Helena?”
“I rarely do.”
She laughed, a big and bold laugh, clapping her hands together. “Ah, you and little… Cassandra, you have much in common, then.”
Little Cassandrawas summoned by the sound of her name, clearly, because she came up behind me with a tray of coffees, setting one down for Krysten, one down for another one of the people at the table with her, one for me and one for the empty spot next to me, where she slid in next to me, leaning casually against the table. “How many times have you called me little while my back was turned?” she said, and Krysten chuckled.
