CHAPTER1
OLIVIA
Iwake up with a lazy smile, basking in the morning sunlight.
Beams flow through the bedroom’s eastern window as I take a minute to remember some of last night’s dreams. Nothing comes to mind, yet I feel positively refreshed. I must’ve been so tired.
Of course. I spent most of the evening and a hearty chunk of the late night going over my big presentation for…
“SanFranLabs,” I hear myself gasp.
Wait, what time is it?
I find my phone on the nightstand and unlock the screen, only to realize that unless I move like lightning, I’m going to be late for my presentation.
“Oh, crap!” I yelp and jump out of bed, suddenly energized and terrified enough to forget everything else as I scramble for some decent clothes and vanish into the bathroom. With a sense of urgency befitting someone who’s never late anywhere, I power through the basics of my morning routine. My strawberry blond hair is a wavy mess, and I don’t have any time to straighten it out. A loose bun with a white, neutral scrunchie will have to do. “I should’ve set three alarms, dammit…”
There’s no time for a proper make-up. A splash of BB cream is all I can muster to make myself look presentable, though there isn’t anything on the cosmetics market that could wipe away the look of pure dread that’s currently residing on my face.
Finally, I manage to squeeze myself into my pantsuit and low pumps before I grab my bag and my keys and rush out the door of my short-term rental apartment. I only came to San Francisco for this event, and here I am, almost missing my chance to make a name for myself in an already insanely competitive industry.
My heart races as I reach the downstairs level of an otherwise gorgeous apartment building and realize I’m going to have to hail a cab. I’m not home in Sacramento, and I don’t have my car. And I only have another thirty minutes before my slot is up on the Spotlight on STEM program.
“Double crap!” I exhale harshly upon seeing all the ride-share apps displaying busy signs on my phone. It takes a while and plenty of crazy arm-waving on my part, but eventually a yellow-cab driver displays a smidge of mercy and pulls over.
“Hi, thank you so much!” I tell him, shaking like a leaf as I jump into the back seat, instantly assaulted by a plethora of stale smells. I feel as though I’ve just landed in the middle of a wrestling match between a bachelor party and a prom night where the punch got spiked. Ew. “Can you take me to 511 Harrison Street, please?”
He just nods and drives off.
I don’t need any small talk, either. Just a quick shot of espresso before I go up on stage. It’s all I dare ask the universe for at this point.
Finally, my jitters begin to subside, if only for a few minutes, as the car glides through morning traffic, cutting across Glen Park and Noe Valley to get me up north towards the Oakland Bay Bridge.
SanFranLabs will push me forward in my career.
If I’m lucky, if I deliver on this presentation, there will be at least a couple of tech CEOs who will want to hire me. And I’m talking about high-paying gigs, too, not some entry-level nonsense. I didn’t get through a doctorate and a PhD to wind myself down to the bottom of the pyramid. No. Not for me. The stakes are crazy high today, but the rewards match the challenge. I’ve never been one to settle for small things, anyway. All I have to do is nail this.
I practically roll out of the cab when we reach the event hall.
There are a lot of people here, and I don’t know anyone. I can only watch the foot traffic as they come in and out of the glass-and-steel tower that hosts dozens of massive events every year. I recognize some faces from the covers of magazines. I wouldn’t mind getting hired by a couple of them.
My heart’s in override again. I check my watch. The driver took a smart route, to his credit. I might actually manage to grab that quick coffee, after all.
I’m equipped with a nose so fine, I can track a coffee machine anywhere in any building, so I follow my senses and make my way through the main entrance, flashing my participant badge to anyone who needs to see it. There’s plenty of security around. I presume it’s because this whole place is loaded with kajillionaires. As I rush to find a barista to put me out of my misery, I realize that I am exactly where I was supposed to be. My whole life, I’ve dreamed of the precise moment when I would aim higher than anyone else in my family ever has.
Mom will be proud. Dad, too. Not to mention my brothers. Rick will throw a frickin’ party if I get hired today.
I have to get hired today. I’ve been trying to get a job for the past six months, and no one at CalTech prepared me for the possibility of failure. Maybe they should’ve. Or maybe they did, and I just wasn’t listening.
“Hey, can I get a double shot of espresso, please?” I go in firmly as a hipster-looking dude cleans the burnt coffee out of a filter behind the bar. “And one of those croissants, they look good…” I haven’t eaten since yesterday around noon, that’s how nervous I’ve been. My mind is a blur, my pulse is racing, and I’m not even sure how I’m going to stand unless I get that sweet jolt of caffeine inside me.
The barista is about to say something, but another voice cuts in. “I was in line before you, miss. Wait your turn.”
“Huh?” I turn and find myself transfixed by the most troubling blue eyes I’ve ever had the fortune of gazing into.
For a moment, I wonder if I’m still dreaming.
I’m not. This guy is for real, and despite being overwhelmingly handsome, he’s also visibly irked. “I was in line before you,” he says again, more forcefully this time. “You’re being rude.”