by Heleen Kist
That bitch. That duplicitous, complicit bitch.
49
ME
I stood outside Madainn the next morning, leaned against the black wrought iron fence around Rutland Square Gardens. I rubbed my arms and wished I’d worn another layer. The air smelled of rain-washed stone.
People in suits streamed into the various workplaces on the square; the lawyers, the fund managers, recruitment agents.
I saw Suki emerge from the alley, confident strides on impossibly high heels. ‘Suki!’
She gave a startled look and a little wave before coming over. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I didn’t want to meet at Empisoft,’ I said. ‘The staff are getting too curious about who you are and why you’re always there.’
‘Well, the secret will soon be out. I got all the stuff over to the lawyers last night. I’m super confident we’ll be able to make the announcement at the conference on Thursday.’ She eyed her office door. ‘I’d ask you inside, but I’m afraid you’d have Angus and Diane fawning all over you. You’re their little cash cow. Let’s go to Pret.’
She led me through a small alley to Shandwick Place, with its wall-to-wall choice of coffee shops. A step behind, I smiled: she’d remembered I liked the Pret tea the best.
Standing at the counter, Suki asked. ‘Have you had breakfast? It’s a bit early for you, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll have a croissant and an Earl Grey, thanks. I’ve been awake half the night, confusing Atticus by getting up and getting back into bed. I figured I might as well get up and find you before you got too busy.’
The noise of the espresso machines and people around us ordering their morning takeaways made it pointless to say more.
Eventually, we settled on wooden stools around a high, square table.
‘Why couldn’t you sleep?’ she asked.
‘I’ve been wracking my brain about ways to punish Justin. I feel stupid. I warned him I was going to do something to him, but I can’t think of anything — other than sabotaging the acquisition.’ Suki gave me a warning look. I waved my hand. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t do that. That’s the problem. It would hurt Justin the most, but it would also hurt you and all the staff who own shares, the shareholders...’
‘And you.’
‘And me.’ I shrugged. ‘Though that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.’
‘Sorry. Can’t help. I haven’t given it much thought yet. Been struggling with my own vendetta.’
‘Angus?’
‘No, would you believe.’ She came close, as if imparting a secret. ‘Diane.’
‘What?’ I jerked back.
‘I’ll tell you later. Let’s stick with you.’ She chewed on her pastry and rinsed her mouth with coffee. ‘We can’t let other people suffer. The deal needs to go through. On the plus side, that gives us a bit more time. Perhaps we can come up with something after the conference?’
‘I guess,’ I said, shoulders slumped. ‘Is there really no way to take away his growth options? That’s the only money he’s going to see straight away.’
‘Not without reducing the valuation of the company,’ she replied. ‘And that means hurting others again.’
A young man in a suit sat down at the table next to us with a drink and a muffin. He was joined by a heavily made-up girl wearing a black-suited uniform and a Debenhams name tag. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was, the girl was lapping it up, smiling and playing with her hair.
‘How about something with a woman?’ I offered. ‘Maybe get him dumped or cheated on?’
Suki patted her lips with her fingers. ‘I thought he only ever went on dates. Has he had a proper girlfriend?’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘Besides, who would we find to help?’ I picked at my croissant and sucked on a buttery flake.
‘If you want to dent his ego, though, I’ve got an idea. We expose him.’ A vicious grin spread across Suki’s face. ‘Think about it. That Chosen One Twitter account he’s been using. He’s a fraud. He’s got an army of awful Incel followers that think he’s one of them.’ She moved her cup aside to paint a picture with her fingers. ‘How do you think they would respond if they found out that they’ve been manipulated by a good-looking, successful millionaire who can get all the girls he wants?’
My eyes widened. ‘They’d turn on him.’
‘Yup. Like a pack of wolves. And he’d have nowhere to hide because — and this is the beautiful irony of it — he’s got such a public profile. Everybody knows who Justin Travers is. And if they don’t, it takes only two minutes to find out.’
My stomach churned. ‘We can’t do that.’
‘He doesn’t need to know it was you.’
‘No, that’s not it,’ I said. ‘I would want him to know it was me. God, I’d love him to know I ended up with the upper hand. But we just can’t do that. We can’t use Twitter. We need something precise, targeted, and that we can control. Look at how quickly Darren’s stupid photo got a life of its own. Look at what it did to Emily... If we went ahead with this, knowing the damage these Incel guys could do, doesn’t that make us as evil as all of them?’
Suki flicked the crumbs off the table. ‘I guess. It did have a certain beauty to it though, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah. Maybe I can still fantasise about it a little bit,’ I grinned.
Suki sighed. ‘How will we make sure Justin doesn’t just get to cash in and start his glorious new life in California?’
‘California?’
‘Oh, you’ve not been told yet? PeopleForce have kept that close to their chest. When they announce the takeover at the conference, they will announce that Justin is their new Global Director of Digital Labs. You should hear him. He’s so fucking excited about it. He’s even placed his order for that ridiculously expensive motorcycle.’
‘He’s leaving?’ I hated him, but he was also Justin.
‘Yes, good riddance. You’ll be reporting to a nice guy in San Francisco — I looked him up to make sure, what with the hoo-hah they’ve had lately. The good news is they seem to be bending over to make things right. I suspect they’ll leave you alone to get on with your R&D.’ Suki searched my face. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’
‘It’s a shock... all this change.’
‘It’s good change.’ Suki placed her hand on mine. ‘So... How can we sabotage his motorcycle?’
I pulled a face. ‘Don’t even joke about that.’
‘How about we cancel his order without him knowing?’ She bubbled with all the ideas that had evaded me overnight. Hitting his ego, his wallet, his career.
None felt right. They were either too terrible or not terrible enough.
50
SUKI
The temp jumped up from the front desk when Suki stepped through the door, his white shirt rolled at the sleeve. ‘Sandy Evans has been trying to reach you. He’s called three times. Said he tried your mobile but you weren’t picking up.’ He offered her a yellow post-it. She didn’t need it.
Suki fished the phone from her bag’s side pocket. She kept it there precisely so that she would always hear it. She checked the screen; the volume was muted. How did that happen?
‘I’ll take care of it,’ she said. ‘Thanks, erm...’ She flashed him a smile, wincing inside, hoping he hadn’t noticed the omission. She rushed to her desk. Please God, let there be nothing wrong.
She dialled Sandy’s number. He picked up straight away.
‘Sorry, so sorry, Sandy. It’s Suki. What’s up?’
‘I’ve had one of my associates trawl through the files again this morning,’ he said. ‘And he’s noticed there’s an IP assignation missing.’
A spiky jolt rushed up her spine. ‘Which one?’
‘The original one. The document where Laura Flett signed the ownership of her master’s project to Empisoft.’
Suki’s mind whirred. She’d never seen it, yet it must have existed. Nobody invested in a technology company without making sure it ow
ned the intellectual property it said it did. It didn’t matter whether it was a patent, trademark or copyright or who in the company had originally made the invention. It all got assigned to the company.
She mentally flicked through the library of folders she’d painstakingly pulled together over the last few weeks. There was definitely a zip file that contained what they called the ‘bible’, all the documentation from that first investment, with Empisoft fresh out of the University. She remembered receiving it from the company in an email but realised she’d never checked what was inside. Why would she? That had all gone through two sets of lawyers years ago.
‘That’s strange,’ she said. ‘How could there not be one in the bible?’
The lawyer cleared his throat. ‘I can’t comment. My firm wasn’t acting for Empisoft then. We’ll need to disclose it to PeopleForce unless we get Laura Flett to sign a new one and backdate it... Shall I draw one up?’
‘Let me have a word with her, find out what happened with her thesis,’ Suki replied. ‘And if one’s really needed, I’ll get her to sign it.’
Suki sat at her desk, resting her chin on her clasped hands. Surely there must have been a reason for there not to be one? She played through different scenarios she’d come across in her short career; and that she’d heard of at Stanford, where she’d been surrounded by students starting up new businesses.
Angus’s voice boomed from behind her. ‘Suki? Can you come give me an update on Empisoft, please?’ His hands were in his pockets. His elbow pointed to his office.
‘Yes, of course.’
She followed him down the corridor, taking in his shape; his expensive shoes, the slightly moist wisps of grey hair at the nape of his neck. This man who’d approved payoffs to victims of harassment at his firm. Who hadn’t challenged his partner on her son’s behaviour. Why? Did he not care?
‘Are we on track?’ he asked, remaining standing near the door.
Good. He hadn’t invited her to sit; this was going to be a quick one. ‘Yes,’ she said.
He rubbed his hands. ‘Excellent.’
‘There seems to be one last-minute missing piece of paper. The original assignation of Laura Flett’s master’s thesis. It’s nothing to worry about because she can sign a backdated one if needed.’
Angus scratched behind his ear. ‘You’re friendly with the girl. Take care of it. Don’t let her open up that growth option conversation again, though. There’s no time for that.’
She turned towards the door just as it opened widely, smacking her in the forehead. She stumbled backward and held out her hands to soften the blow as she hit the floor. Pain shot through her coccyx, wrist, elbow.
Robert stormed in. ‘Angus, the crane company wants to know when their compliance—’
Angus lurched toward Suki. ‘Good God, man. Look what you’ve done.’
‘Oh, sorry, Sooks. Didn’t see you there,’ said Robert. ‘I’ll come back later.’ He disappeared as quickly as he’d come.
Angus took Suki’s forearm while she hoisted her skirt a little and pushed herself up feeling about as gracious as a newborn fucking giraffe. She stroked her throbbing wrist. Angus shook his head. Her ears pricked up as she heard him grumble, ‘Nothing but trouble, that one.’
When she’d checked her blouse, skirt and hair were again equally straight, she picked up the business cards that had fallen from her pocket and said, ‘I’ll go take care of the assignation.’
‘Are you all right?’
For a second, he looked genuinely concerned, but Suki wasn’t about to let that take her off course. ‘I will be,’ she replied, as she felt the weight of the cards in her hand — in more ways than one.
Suki’s nails click-clacked on her desk as she drummed her fingers. Laura’s phone rang out. It wasn’t unusual for her to leave it lying around so Suki waited a few minutes and tried again.
Background music and chatter engulfed Laura’s ‘Hello.’
‘Where are you?’ Suki asked.
‘Clr Md me go shPing.’
‘What?’
‘Mm SHOPPING t Claire f CLOTHES... mm... Wt... Quiet.’
Suki sighed and rubbed her phone ear.
‘Is this better?’ Laura asked, crystal clear.
‘Yes. Did I hear you say you were clothes shopping with Claire?’
‘She made me. We’re in Jenners getting a new outfit for the conference. She says the black-shirt, blue-jean technology entrepreneur look is so 2000s.’
Suki smiled, imagining Laura trying to shoo Claire off her. ‘Don’t let her convince you to get your eyebrows done.’ They laughed together. ‘Speaking of which, tell Claire we’re still on for 6PM at my parents’ place. But I need to see you urgently.’
‘Something I need to worry about?’
‘No,’ Suki replied, bubbles of excitement rising in her throat. ‘If I’m right, it’s quite the opposite. But before I’m sure, I need to ask you some questions.’
51
ME
The black-and-white bags of Jenners department store weighed down my arms as I strode from one end of Princes Street to the other. My blow-dried hair bounced around my head. I made myself small to weave through the people waiting at the bus stops, hoping they wouldn’t notice I was wearing four kinds of perfume.
I stretched my neck and yawned. All those stairs to confounding mezzanine floors and balconies in the store had taken their toll; all that trying on; all that arguing that no, I wouldn’t be caught dead in mustard-coloured culottes no matter how much Claire thought they were spectacular.
We’d had a good laugh, though, at this forced induction into a timeless girlie ritual. Claire was so enthusiastic about my make-over that I couldn’t help giving in more than I’d planned. But was all this primping necessary? Couldn’t we just be?
Emily had never tried to change me.
I shifted two bags into the other hand to give my left shoulder some relief. I crossed the road to walk alongside Princes Street Gardens to avoid the blaring bagpipe music coming out of tourist shops selling half-priced cashmere, stuffed Loch Ness monsters, and other tartan tat.
A Saltire and a Union Flag flapped in unison above the entrance to the Waldorf Astoria. I still couldn’t get used to its new name; The Caledonian having been re-branded after a massive refurbishment some years before. Like other locals, I’d probably always referred to the hotel as ‘The Caley.’
I slipped through the revolving doors. Suki had suggested it as a good place to meet. It was private and less than a hundred metres from her office.
It was also stunning. Curved beech desks, each with a pair of elegant table lamps, formed a ring around a Greek-patterned circle shaped inside the marble floor tiles. Overhead hung the largest lighting creation I’d ever set eyes on; ochre orbs dangling among the twinkling lights. I subtly brushed down my jeans as I walked past the staff greeting me with a silent nod.
I stepped into Peacock Alley, the opulent bar just off the lobby, to the right. It smelled of coffee beans and freshly baked scones. I sank into one of the wide cream armchairs with burnt-orange trim and a uniformed waiter appeared almost instantly with a glass of water. A juniper berry and a sprig of mint floated inside. I could get used to this. And in only two years, I could choose to come here every single day if I wanted — even get a room, for kicks.
Suki appeared through the archway. I waved and nearly flung a small sculpture to the ground.
She eyed the bags. ‘Success?’
‘Yes, I think so. I ended up spending a little more than planned,’ I said sheepishly.
‘I think you have every reason to treat yourself. And I look forward to seeing the whole new you at the conference tomorrow,’ Suki said.
I stroked my sleek, loose hair. The waiter took our orders. Suki crossed her legs. Her elegant shoes belonged here more than I did.
‘I need to talk to you about Empisoft’s intellectual property,’ she said. ‘Incredibly, some paperwork from when you first started out has gone miss
ing.’
‘That’s years ago.’
‘It’s important. Do you remember signing any documents that gave ownership of what you’d created to Empisoft?’
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and sucked in my cheeks. ‘Yes. I remember, because I had to burn the software we were assigning onto something silly like five different discs and my CD-ROM drive was unreliable. The discs were coupled to an assignation for the software that Justin and I both signed.’
‘I’ve seen that document. But did you sign away your thesis?’ Suki asked.
‘My master’s thesis? No. Why would I?’
Suki took a sip of her coffee. ‘The software you rightly signed away was based on your thesis, right? So the basic IP sits in the thesis. Unless you’ve specifically assigned that, you still own it.’
I twirled a coaster between my fingers to jog my memory. ‘The lawyer said that because I’d handed my thesis into my supervisor at the University without marking it with Confidential, it was considered in the public domain and so it didn’t count as protectable IP anymore.’
Suki’s eyes lit up.
A lump formed in my stomach. Had I done something wrong? ‘There was a whole argument about it and that delayed the investment,’ I said. ‘That’s why I remember. In the end, all the investors cared about was the software, since that was ready and gave the company a big first-mover advantage. I was told you couldn’t patent my research anyway.’
I watched Suki expectantly. A giant grin lifted her cheeks. Relief washed over me.
‘Ha!’ Suki slapped her knee and bounced in her armchair.
‘What is it?’
‘They made a mistake. Back then, they made a mistake. I don’t know where you got your shitty lawyer from.’ She chuckled. ‘Patents have nothing to do with this, that bit is correct, but it seems he got muddled up between a PhD thesis — which gets published by the University unless you specifically instruct them not to for commercial reasons — and the master’s thesis which, frankly, nobody cares about except you, for your grade, and doesn’t go anywhere.’