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I was a new Kiki. For the first time in my life, I’d learned that not every day had to be a challenge, that you were allowed to wake up and take it easy. Yes, Tate’s money helped by giving me a safety net, but the actual lessons, and my newfound confidence, had come from Tate. That was something money couldn’t buy.
The rest of my work day flew by, as my days tended to do now. I was packed with meetings from morning ‘til night, but I made sure to always leave by six and to get my employees home by then too. There’s no point working hard for a job if you can’t spend time with your loved ones. I know it’s Valley and startup culture to labor through the wee hours, but that just wasn’t my style. And apparently, based on Giggr’s success, it didn’t take only getting five hours of sleep to have a successful launch.
By six, as usual, I was in my Porsche and driving out of the office’s parking lot. The Porsche had been an indulgence, I grant you, but it was purchased entirely with my own money. Tate bought the house, and took on most of the expenses — even though I was now earning plenty of cash — so I’d insisted on buying my own car. You know how some women buy designer purses with their first paychecks? Well, this was like that, only… bigger. And way more expensive. But life’s too short to drive slow.
On the ride home, I called my father as we hadn’t spoken that week. He had agreed to go to Gamblers Anonymous after he learned that his debts at Dazzlers had been written off. The program seemed to be working and I half wondered if my father realized that he’d dodged a bullet and that he had only so much luck.
He’d actually been a huge help with the sale of Dazzlers as we moved to California before everything was settled. Tate had agreed to my request that all Dazzlers staff were to keep their jobs with the new owners as a condition of sale so no one lost their job. Despite Mac’s revenge, the story had died a quick death as the story fell apart within days. It also had been forgotten in the wake of a scandal at RES, where several people had been caught card counting by other players. It turned out that RES had not only known this, but was taking a share of the winnings from the cheats.
Tate had sold his Vegas home in one day as one of his neighbors had been eyeing the house for years and had been waiting for it to go on the market.
My father answered on the third ring. “Hey honey, how are ya?”
“Fine, Dad. Just wanted to check in and see how you are doing.”
“Great, haven’t felt this good in years.”
“Anyway, I just wanted to see if you are around tomorrow evening as I am running a bit late and I wanted to see if we could catch up then? Will you be home?”
“Of course. I have nowhere else to be and a friend might be popping by.”
“Is this Caroline?” I asked.
“How about I don’t tell you so you don’t forget to call tomorrow to get the details.”
I laughed and let him get back to his TV.
I turned off the highway and pulled into our secluded street. It was home to some of the biggest names in the Valley, but there was no gate around the community, and I preferred it that way. I drove down the elm-lined boulevard, my arm dangling out the window as I felt the air on my lightly tanned skin.
Finally, I was home.
Tate and I compromised our tastes when we bought the house. He loved ultra-modern architecture, while I leaned more to rustic and homey. We’d ended up with a perfect combination of the two — it was a kind of seventies futuristic model made entirely of dark wood, with perfect nooks for reading or cuddling. We’d gone mid-century modern with much of the furniture, but had covered every surface in soft, comfy fabrics and textures. The backyard was planted with as many trees as I could fit, which was quite a few. I planned on starting a garden soon.
How had I gotten so lucky?
Tate’s car was already in the garage, so I knew he’d gotten home before me. I smiled, excited to greet him. Even though we now lived together and I saw him every day, the little thrill of reconvening and discussing our day always put an extra bounce in my step.
The day after we’d moved to the Valley, he’d set up a venture capital firm. He knew so much about the organization of such companies that I wondered if he hadn’t been researching it for quite some time. Perhaps he’d been thinking about it for longer than I knew, and he just needed my little push to take him all the way. Tate’s work was far more money-oriented than my own, but it suited him perfectly. He had a head for numbers and business relations, and had soon become one of the most respected investors around. He was known for investing in cutting-edge technology, the kind too risky for most firms. In other words, he was a brazen swashbuckler.
