“What does her wife say?”
“I’m pretty sure she’s already courting Ben Statham to represent her. It’ll be the divorce that shakes up the entire California tech scene, for sure. I’m just grateful I’ve stayed out of the public eye this whole time.”
Zara snorts a mocking laugh. “And yet your personal endeavors are still the main driver of your company’s stock market value. I mean… the irony is glaring. Date the wrong chick andpoof, there goes fifty billion like it’s just dust in the wind. Marry a princess andboom, up the stock goes till you’re rich enough to buy Mars.”
“Not Mars. It’s too much real estate. Io or Phoebe, maybe, sure.”
Another sip of my coffee brings the world into focus once more. I’m useless without caffeine. Now, however, I can see that Zara is trying to tell me something—something highly sensitive that she isn’t sure how to fold into an otherwise relaxed conversation. She knows me for long enough to employ most of her tact in these situations, so whatever it is, it will probably affect me in some way.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, smiling. “You’re not usually this afraid to speak up.”
“I’m not afraid,” she replies, shaking her head. “It’s just… the kind of stuff I know gets to you on a deeper level.”
Outside my office, the company hums and buzzes forward. Phones are ringing. Some engineers are talking near one of the water coolers. I can hear ergonomic keyboards frenetically clacking as my life’s work continues to unfold and reshape the world. “Whatever it is, I’ve already gone through the worst that the universe has had in store for me,” I tell Zara. “There’s nothing you can tell me that will literally hurt me.”
“It’s about St. Agnes,” she finally says.
Okay, I may have been wrong in my statement. A painful pang is quick to settle in the pit of my stomach as I try to keep a straight face. “What about St. Agnes?”
“The director, Miss Elizabeth, has passed. I got a call this morning. They wanted to know if you’d like to attend her funeral.”
I have mixed feelings about this. Grief should be among them, but it’s a hard thing to find in the middle of so many unpleasant memories. A lot of people don’t know what life was like for us orphans dropped off on the steps of St. Agnes… I remember all too well.
I remember Miss Elizabeth, and how she enjoyed punishing those of us who didn’t behave. All we ever did was kid stuff. Stupid kid stuff like climbing a tree and falling down, scraping our knees and breaking windows and losing our ball in the neighbors’ backyard… My skin crawls as I remember the day I left that place. I was one of the lucky ones.
“They get a donation from my company every year,” I say after a long pause. “I even show up and smile for the cameras when they do their fundraisers. One of theirsuccess stories, they had the audacity to call me.”
“See, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no, it’s fine, Zara. I promise. It’s fine.” It really isn’t, but I’ve powered through much worse. My life is too big and too important to let those bullies keep inflicting traumas upon me. “Tell you what… You call them and tell them I’m not gonna be in California this week. And I’ll ask Alina to send a nice big flower arrangement for the funeral. And the next time one of them dies… yeah, just relay the same request to Alina. As long as there are flowers with my name on the ribbons there… it’s fine. It’s precisely what they deserve.”
And I don’t mean it in a good way.
I believe in the goodness of people. I just think it’s scarcer than we’ve led ourselves to believe. Once I know to expect the worst out of everyone around me, then they have the opportunity to positively surprise me. I’m like this because of Miss Elizabeth and her cohorts. They’re the ones who taught me to keep my guard up and protect my soul from everything and everyone. I drown in loneliness because of them. So no, I’m not gonna drag my ass across town to attend the funeral of a woman who gifted me thousands of dollars’ worth of therapy bills in my twenties.
“Okay. Duly noted,” Zara concludes. “The only reason I’m the one telling you this is because Alina was horrified at the thought of having to break the news herself.”
“You were doing her a favor. That’s kind of you, Zara. I’ll have a chat with her later, though. I’m not afraid of my past, so she shouldn’t be afraid of it, either.”
“Next order of business, Olivia MacArthur.”
I don’t know why my heart skips a muted beat whenever her name comes up. It must be related to the enormous financial boon that her tech will bring to my company. I never thought I’d be so excited about an upcoming project, and yet here I am, as giddy as can be. “What about her?” I ask.
“She sent over the signed contract. She’s also agreed to the NDAs and financial annexes,” Zara replies. “You’ve got her all to yourself for the next year.”
“You did leave a window for renewal, right?”
She nods stiffly. “Do I look like an amateur to you? If the girl wants to keep working you by the tenth month, I will present her with a renewed contract.”
The door cracks open and Alina slips her head through. “She’s here.”
“Great, send her in,” I say.
“Erm…”
It’s the hesitation that irks me. “What now?” I ask. “I’m not a frickin’ dragon, ladies. I’m not gonna bite your heads off.”
Alina shrugs. “You see, you say that…” She pushes the door wide open for me to see Olivia MacArthur coming in with a box full of personal items, framed photographs and colorful trinkets to decorate her desk with. Instantly, a knot tightens in the pit of my stomach.