I left before I found the noise. No one else seems to have heard it. I should have called the landscaping guys, let them deal with it, or even told Anjelica, but I wanted to fix it myself. I know a thing or two about irrigation. It could be done without anyone knowing something was wrong.
“It’s a strange noise,” Alfred says. “I know it’s probably the sprinklers, but it sounds like an animal moaning. Or screaming.”
I get up out of my chair. “It’s just the water in the pipes. Save a sandwich for me, will you?”
Alfred disappears down the hall, and I walk through the door in the glass wall to the atrium. Since I never use it, the hinges squeal as it opens.
Faintly there comes a high-pitched whine. The call of a pipe about to break.
The light from my office gives just enough illumination for me to see the pathway. I cock my head, trying to home in on the noise. As the door shuts behind me, I’m wrapped up completely in the heat and humidity. The HVAC system pushes a gentle breeze through the room, making the palm fronds shiver.
An orchid that looks like a bird in flight perches on one of the branches above my head. Two more nestle in a tree hollow at my right elbow, tight buds dotting the new stems.
The noise gets higher, then starts to sputter. I turn my head, listen hard. Maybe it’s by Finn’s office.
I take several steps in that direction, still listening. The pauses between the sputters grow longer and longer… and then the noise dies.
Damn. It’s probably not going to start up again anytime soon. It’s like the noise doesn’t want to be caught.
But still, it might. So I find the nearest bench and sit. In the dark, some of the power of the foliage and colors is lost. But the fragrance is all the more potent.
I tilt my head back, fill my lungs. The scent of the orchids is so full I can taste it, pollen sprinkling over my tongue. The warmth settles into my tired muscles, helped along by the humidity. Slowly, inch by inch, my body unlocks, settles.
I start to drift between sleep and wakefulness. My mind rambles off on various larks—recalling my schedule for tomorrow, going through the Corvus files, imagining a beach. Waves and heat.
“Dev?”
My eyes snap open. Anjelica is there, in the atrium.
She’s in casual clothes—a T-shirt, yoga pants—and her hair is down, her face bare. The shirt clings to her breasts, and the pants outline her curves in mouthwatering detail.
I close my eyes for a moment. I did not need that image, which is going to haunt my dreams for a while. For forever.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”
I’m not sure if she means the atrium or the office. I rise up off the bench, run a hand through my hair. “I was working. There was a noise, like a sprinkler was breaking.”
“Oh.” She has her keys clutched tightly in her hand. “I don’t hear anything.”
I have to look at anything but her. This is much too raw. “It’s gone now. It only comes occasionally. Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
“There’s, uh…” She points to the main door of the atrium. “…a remote alarm that goes off if the heat or humidity is off. Sends a notification to my phone.”
I frown at the panel she’s pointing at. All I can see of it is a small green LED. “No alarm sounded here.”
“I think it’s malfunctioning. The readings all look correct to me—I don’t know why I got an alert.”
“Well, the sensors might be malfunctioning. Do you have—”
She holds up a small temperature and humidity meter from her pocket. “I checked with this in case the sensors were broken.”
Right. Of course she would be prepared. Of course she wouldn’t need any help.
“I’ll get someone out to look at it,” I say. “They can check the sensors and the irrigation system.”
She bites her lip. “That’s okay. This is my thing. I’d really rather do it myself.”
It’s the choice I would make. Doing it myself, never letting anyone else in. Yet it still hurts me when she says it.
This is what she meant when she said I hurt everyone with the Corvus takeover. That I should have trusted them.
I understand the pain, but… but I’m not sure how to make things right. How to fix what’s broken between me and the Bastards, what’s broken inside me.
I never got a guide in how to relate to people. How to trust them. It hasn’t bothered me—I’ve done pretty well for myself, and trust isn’t exactly necessary for my work. I’ve learned to cope, and having as much money as I do means people are more than willing to accommodate me.
“Okay,” I say. “I understand.”
Because I really do. It’s one of the few things that I do understand about Anjelica’s feelings and needs.
“I mean, I appreciate—” She catches herself, curls her hands into fists. “You’re not my boss anymore,” she says to herself. When her gaze meets mine, it’s resolved. Chilly. “Thanks for the offer. But I’ll do it. Don’t worry about it.”
I’m being dismissed. More kindly than I was at her house, but still dismissed.
I understand that too.
“I’ll get back to work then.”
There’s a flare of something like concern in her eyes as I turn to go, but I don’t let myself turn back to make certain. And I don’t let myself linger on her, her expressions, or those damn yoga pants.
Chapter 4
When my phone rings Monday morning, I pick it up and groan. I really don’t have time to answer this, not before my very first partners’ meeting.
Well, not my very first, but my very first as a partner. I’ve been getting prospectuses together all weekend and even called in some people for interviews. I’ve got a portfolio together, filled with start-ups I’m excited about.
And now I get to pitch them to my partners. It’s ridiculously exciting.
But I can’t ignore this call. Not if I want to keep making progress on my project to fix things with my family.
I hit the Answer button. “Mom. What’s up?”
“Anjie, honey. How was your weekend?”
“Fine. I was working.”
There’s a hiccup of silence. “Oh. Not too much, I hope. Did you have a date?”
Now that we’ve reconnected, my mother is desperate to hear about the men I’m seeing, to know if there’s any chance I’ll settle down. Considering how poorly it went the last time they set me up and encouraged me to marry a guy, you’d think she’d have learned her lesson.
“No,” I say. Dev kissing me in a way that set fire to my panties doesn’t count. My tossing him out forever doesn’t either.
I repeated to myself all weekend that I made the right choice. That I couldn’t fix what was wrong with him and it wasn’t my job to do so. It became a chant, repeated so often the words lost their meaning.
I did the right thing. But sometimes, in the loneliest parts of my weekend, it felt wrong.
I’m not bringing up any of that with my mother. “Now that I’m partner,” I say, “I’ve got a lot more work.”
“That’s nice, sweetie. Dad says hi.” In the background, I can hear my dad grumbling something. He must be on his way out to the garden. Now that he’s retired, he spends most of his days pruning, hunting weeds, and obsessing over his lawn.
“Hi, Dad,” I say loudly.
“Oh, he didn’t hear you. And now he’s gone.” Mom sighs. “He’s very busy too these days. That one planter by the sycamore tree? You know it.”
I don’t. They put in the planters after I left. I haven’t been home since I graduated from college. I wasn’t speaking to my parents for a very long time, so visits were definitely not happening.
Now that we’ve normalized relations, I’ll have to go visit. Someday.
“Yeah,” I say absently. She doesn’t really care if I know what she’s talking about or not. I put the phone between my ear and shoulder and start sorting through my papers.
“That
planter started to rot. There was something in the wood, eating it. And now Dad has to tear it out and replace it. I don’t think the roses in there can be saved, and he’s very upset about it.”
I think it’s actually Mom who’s upset about it—Dad never liked roses because of the thorns and how much water they need. Mom agitated for roses.
That was always the pattern. Dad went for the practical, simple but perfect. Mom wanted the bells and whistles even if they were messy.
“That’s too bad.” I make a note to send Mom some bare-root roses for Christmas. I should be able to find some rare, spectacular varieties. She’ll be the envy of the neighborhood.
“It is. Oh, and you know who offered to help him?”
My throat starts to close, my skin going cold. It’s a stupid, teenage reaction, one I should completely be over, but I’m not. I already know exactly who she’ll say, and I’m already dreading it.
“Who?” I manage to keep my voice somewhere close to normal.
“Kaleb,” Mom says, as if it’s just so awesome.
“That’s very nice of him.” And it is. Kaleb is so kind, to my parents, to his neighbors, his wife and his children. He’s got quite the life going for him back home.
My life is good too. It’s great. I’ve got nothing to resent Kaleb for.
“Oh, honey.” Mom sighs. “You can’t still be upset.”
“I’m not.” It’s true. It’s ridiculous to cut off your family, your former friends, all over a man. I’ve completely gotten past that, which is why I’m talking to Mom right now. I’ve realized my reaction was wrong, overwrought.
I’m the better person I should have been from the very beginning. And if I still ache for that lost dream I might have had with Kaleb—a husband, children, the intimacy of home overflowing with love—well, that’s my problem. Because I went and fell for a guy who could never give me that. If I’d just gotten over Dev properly, let my heart move on…
“I’m happy for him,” I say. “I really am. Tell him I said hi and thanks for helping Dad.”
Yancy passes by my office, tapping her watch face. Five minutes until the meeting.
I installed a reminder system on all the partners’ computers to prod them into showing up on time—a particularly annoying one in Finn’s case—but Yancy is going for a more old-fashioned method. Which is fine. She doesn’t have to do everything the exact way I did. As long as everyone’s on time to the meeting.
Which includes me.
“Sorry, Mom, but I have to go.” And thank goodness.
“All right. Have fun today.”
I smile because she makes it sound like I’m off to another day of fifth grade or something. “Thanks. I will.”
Miracle of miracles, everyone’s on time for the meeting. At least everyone who’s still here. Paul’s seat is empty, and Elliot’s chair has been taken over by Yancy. I suppose she could have my usual seat and I could have used Elliot’s, but I’ve gotten attached to my spot.
Logan is on my right with Mark on the other side of him. Dark circles are under Logan’s eyes, but somehow it only makes him more attractive. When it comes to handsomeness, Logan is beyond blessed.
“How’s Aurelie?” I ask him.
He groans. “It turns out there’s this regression phase babies go through at six weeks. Just when they start to sleep for longer than an hour at time—wham! It’s endless crying. Especially at nighttime.”
I wince. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I mean, she’s still the most beautiful thing in the world,” Logan says quickly.
I nod solemnly. “Of course. How’s Callie doing?”
“She’s so amazing.” Logan’s expression softens. “I never knew she could be so patient. Even when she’s so tired. I’m just in awe.”
My heart swells with happy triumph. I knew Logan and Callie would work their problems out and have a happily-ever-after. When they first got together, it was too fast, too soon. I could see that, although I couldn’t say anything at the time.
When they broke up and got back together, it was meant to be. I might have helped them along a little bit, but they were made for each other. They just had to grow up and into their marriage.
“It sounds amazing,” I say with a smile.
“Come by and see us some night,” Logan says. “You can see Aurelie’s new trick of holding her head up.”
Mark leans over. “I saw it this weekend. It’s amazing.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Wait until you have a kid. You’re never going to shut up about it.”
“I was being serious,” Mark says. “I’d never make fun of your kid. You, yes. Your kid, no. Although it is impressive that you manage to keep that massive noggin of yours upright. I guess Aurelie learned it from you.”
Finn and I both bust out laughing. Yancy looks like she isn’t sure if she should join in. And Dev… Dev’s staring down at something on his computer screen, completely oblivious to what’s happening around him.
I stop laughing when I see him.
Logan punches Mark on the shoulder, which is the equivalent of a hug for these guys. “Fuck off. And let’s get this meeting started.” He rubs his hands together. “We have a new partner to haze.”
I know they’re not actually going to haze me or even really tease me—much—but my palms still go clammy. “So, where do I go in the order now? At the end? Or…”
“You go first,” Finn says.
Oh. Okay. Suddenly the app I was so excited about seems… silly. Small. But I know it’s not and it’s only my nerves trying to trip me up.
“I’ve found a start-up working on something interesting.” I pass out copies of their prospectus to everyone. I know people prefer digital copies here, but I like the more immediate physicality of paper. It makes things more real. “They want to be a one-stop shop for women’s health. A menstruation tracker, a mood tracker, automatic reminders for important doctor’s appointments, a symptoms tracker, suggested meditation tracks, workout guides, journaling prompts, and self-care tips. Basically everything a woman needs for a healthy body and mind.”
Finn flips through the packet I’ve handed him. “Why just women? Men need to be healthy too.”
“Because women take on most of the burden of the health-care needs for the men and children in their lives. And no one does it in return for them.”
They all shift guiltily, probably remembering all the times their wives and girlfriends nagged them about going to the doctor.
“The user interface looks good,” Logan says.
I nod. “I’d say it’s one of the best things they have going for them. And the test app I tried this weekend was remarkably bug-free.”
“Their projected user-base growth is pretty rapid. Probably too rapid.” Finn is clearly skeptical.
“It is,” I admit. I had my own concerns about that. “But they’re ambitious. They want to go big.”
“How are they going to make money?” Mark asks. “Selling this information to advertisers is… tricky.”
“No ads,” I say. “Nothing gets sold. The data is all encrypted, completely secure. It’ll be a subscription model in terms of revenue.”
“That’s a tough sell,” Mark says. “People want their apps to be free.”
“I believe they’ll pay when it’s worth it. If you look at the initial growth of the user base, it’s very impressive. And they have an innovative marketing plan to reach even more customers.”
“They’re keeping their operations lean,” Logan says. “I like it. Do you think they know what they’re talking about when it comes to the marketing?”
“Their market is women with smartphones, which is a pretty big target audience. And let’s face it—most apps are designed with men in mind. Women can use them too, but the ideal end user is almost always a man.”
“What percentage of their team are women?” Finn asks.
I grin at him. Trust Finn to get at the smart questions. “Ninety. They’ve got one guy workin
g on the back end of the programming and that’s it.”
Dev closes the information packet with a decisive snap of his wrist. “I like it.”
Mark focuses on him, something dark in his gaze. “You didn’t even ask any questions.”
Logan turns to face Dev, then Finn too. They’re waiting for Dev to respond to Mark’s… question? Challenge?
Normally I’d defuse the situation, not that they ever really fought before, not beyond brotherly bickering. Dev’s acquisition of Corvus has changed that, made the barbed comments attain spikes that can truly cut.
It’s not my job to manage them anymore. If they want to fight, I have to stand back and let them.
“Do you have any questions?” I fold my hands. “Because I’d like to offer them funding soon.”
“I trust you,” Dev says.
The word trust has Finn’s mouth flattening to meanness. And Finn is never mean.
“Great.” Logan snaps down the word like a prospectus he’s rejecting. “I don’t have anything else for today.”
“Me either,” Finn adds.
A look passes between him, Logan, and Mark. Like they’ve decided on something.
Dev doesn’t notice. He’s back to his laptop. It doesn’t look like he’s going to add to the meeting at all.
“Are we going to discuss the Corvus breakup, or are you going to do that all on your own too?” The edge to Mark’s voice isn’t at all hidden.
Logan crosses his arms while Finn sets one elbow on the table to lean in. All three of them are bristling at Dev.
“I’m currently going through the archives.” Dev doesn’t even blink. “Assets will start being catalogued for future sale next week.”
Which isn’t a discussion in the slightest, just Dev telling them what he’s going to do.
I set my palms on the table. “Are you firing all the employees? What about the contracts Corvus already had in place? And the programs they developed? That needs to be hashed out.”
Private Disclosures Page 3