by M K Lansbury
Chet hooted loudly. He quite liked doing that. “Yeahhh! Let’s do it. It’s going to be awesome.”
Spence sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Why don’t we head over now? Anna? Chet?” Sulking, he headed toward the dilapidated beach house that was their home for the next five days.
“Let’s go!” Chet hollered again, happy to be included.
Zara stayed stubbornly on her blanket while Anna, Chet, and Christy gathered their stuff off the sand.
Anna, a self-proclaimed psychic, grinned at Christy and spoke in her wispy voice. “We’ll probably meet some super cute guys tonight.”
Zara instinctively let out a short retching sound and murmured just loud enough to be heard by Ally, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a rusted fork over and over.”
Ally chortled and elbowed Zara in the ribs.
Christy peeked over at them as she left. “Zara? Ally? You’re not coming?”
Ally and Zara stared up at Christy. Zara was once again taken aback by Christy’s beautiful, earthy golden eyes, which had a tendency to turn transparent in the sun. Most would be jealous, but Zara had a soft spot for her because Christy was genuinely kind and down-to-earth.
“I don’t think I'm up for . . .” Zara glanced at Ally, hoping desperately that Ally didn't want to go to the party either. If she did, then Zara would have no choice but to join and chaperone Ally. She couldn’t allow Ally to return to her pit of gloom and doom over thoughts of Soul Mate’s startup capital, or lack thereof.
Zara wasn’t going to let Ally out of her sight—at least not today. Ally was putting her brave big-girl face forward, but Zara knew she was miserable about not getting the calls she was expecting.
“You guys go ahead. I think I’ll stay with Zara for a while. We might join you later.”
“Okay. Drop by for a bit if you feel like it.”
Zara noticed how Chet seemed to take forever to fold his towel. He was stealing cautious glances at Ally, and Zara could tell he felt bad for how Spence had treated her.
“You know, Ally, if I were you, I wouldn’t worry about Soul Mate. You’re so super-smart. I’m pretty sure those investors are just going through the formalities before they all come fighting to fund your app.”
Ally grinned. “Thanks, Chet. That really means a lot.”
Zara watched Chet make his way back to the beach house. “He’s so sweet.”
“I know.”
Zara hated the awkward silence that followed. Silence meant Ally was lost in her thoughts. Again.
Zara exhaled loudly, wistfully. “You know, I didn’t think there’d be so much sand at a beach like this. It’s so annoying.”
Ally’s laugh crackled in the silence. “Yeah, I know. It gets stuck between your toes.”
“And makes a mess all over the floors, right?”
“Wait a minute . . . I think we’re thinking about this the wrong way. It’ll allow us to build sandcastles indoors.”
“Ooh, I hadn’t thought about that.”
“That’s our next business right there.”
“Indoor sandcastles?”
“All the fun of the sand, year-round.”
“Sold.”
Ally fell on the blanket beside Zara, chuckling.
Zara tilted her head to the side, watching her best friend's profile. “Don’t worry, Ally. You of all people should know everything’s gonna work out. It’s a one-of-a-kind thing you’ve created.”
“It better. It’s just . . . I’ve invested so much time in it, Zara. I’ve given up everything for this. I don’t want to go back to everyone and have to explain why it didn’t work. What excuse do I have?”
“You’re not gonna have to do that. You’ve created the perfect algorithm for finding the perfect person. It’s better than anything else out there. And these investors will see that.”
“Are you throwing my own pitch back at me?”
“Depends. Is it working?”
Ally shoved Zara laughingly and sat up. “Of course, it is. It’s a great pitch.” Ally sighed. “I'm sorry, Zara. I'm being a horrible friend. I know you're still not over Stewart.”
“Stewart who?”
“You know who.”
“Oh, that Stewart. My coworker, right? One of the many coworkers I have.”
“Zara . . .”
“Repeat it often enough, and I’ll start believing it.”
Stewart may not have been her Soul Mate, but it was the humiliating way he dumped her that was really getting to Zara. She felt brutally scorned, and she’d assumed she was stronger than that.
Sighing, Zara got up and walked back to the beach house. Chet, Christy, Anna, and Spence were at the front door on their way out.
“They’re leaving, thank God,” Zara muttered. “Some peace and quiet. I’d like to read a book without Chet bursting my eardrums with all the ‘Hell yeah, hell yeah!’” She mimicked Chet’s heavy, baritone voice, punching the air like he did.
Ally chuckled, a snort escaping her nose as she did. She proceeded to do her best attempt of Chet’s energetic holler, and their laughs resounded on the beach as they stumbled back to the beach house.
“Let’s have a drink on the terrace.”
Zara’s chuckle became a sputter, and she glanced up toward the terrace. “To be honest, the terrace kind of freaks me out. It looks like it could fall down with the slightest gust of wind.”
“Chet assured me it wouldn’t. I asked.”
“You asked him?”
“I asked him if the house was condemned or something.”
Zara was horrified. “You didn’t.”
“I didn’t use those exact words. Besides, did you see how Chet and Anna jumped on the bed when we arrived yesterday? The windows were rattling. But, bless this house, it stayed up and—”
Ally’s face turned pale as she frenziedly rummaged in her bag.
“What happened?”
As Zara watched, Ally flipped her bag upside down. Two lipsticks rolled over the floor, along with her sunscreen, sunglasses, hat, and a bunch of standard paraphernalia that seems to grow in your handbag. Ally’s phone bounced off the wooden deck, and she grabbed it ninja-style, while Zara’s skin prickled with goosebumps in awe.
“Hello?”
Zara’s heartbeat slowed as she realized what was going on. Ally had gotten the call she’d been waiting for!
“Um, I’m sorry. You’ve got the wrong number.”
Zara flinched as Ally hung up, all her ninja moves and bag-dumping gone to waste. Zara smiled brightly.
“Let me make you my world-famous mojito. Or maybe some of that weird drink Christy made earlier?”
“Sure, yeah.”
“Sure, what? The former, or the latter?”
“Whichever.”
The phone buzzed in Ally’s hand again, but there were no more ninja moves. Ally had certainly decided that there was no point in hoping.
Zara walked into the kitchen, knowing she needed to give Ally a minute to compose herself. She was clearly falling apart. Zara desperately wished she was rich and could fund Ally’s company, but she could barely afford her rent these days.
The kitchen cabinetry had once upon a time surely been a sight for sore eyes. But the water damage had now made it a sore for the eyes. Since there were no glasses in the house, Zara rinsed two mugs and pulled out the container that Christy had used. She had just poured the drinks when a loud creak from behind her made her lurch around.
Ally stood in the doorway, her face as white as a sheet.
Zara’s heart jumped into her throat. “What happened?”
Ally hissed something at Zara, but it wasn’t loud enough to hear.
“What?”
“I got it. I got it. I got the funding, Zara.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Ally’s excited shrieks ricocheted off the high ceilings. “I got it! I got it! I can’t believe it. I
can’t stop saying it. I really got it!”
Zara screamed in shared excitement, rushing out from behind the kitchen island and hugging Ally tight. “I think this is one scenario where I can say ‘I told you so’ without coming across as a complete jerk.”
“You were right!” Ally held Zara at arm’s length.
Zara could tell something new was spinning in Ally’s overactive head.
“First thing’s first.” Zara rushed back to grab the two mugs of Christy’s drink off the kitchen island. “It’s time to toast!”
Ally drew in a sharp, audible breath. “Actually, can I?”
“Of course. It’s your company.”
“I’d like to give a toast to the woman who’s gonna be my Head of Marketing.”
“Who’s that?”
Ally looked at Zara, a mischievous smile on her face.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for the last three years but wanted to wait until this moment.”
“I’m a little lost here.”
“Zara, will you be my Head of Marketing?”
Zara gaped at Ally, a mug of Christy’s drink in each hand. “I think you might have swallowed some of that sand we were talking about . . .”
“Who else would I want to work with? You’re perfect, and you have the right experience. Plus, it’ll get you away from that office and Stewart your coworker, won’t it? And we get to work together, Zara. It’s the ultimate dream.”
Zara opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
No more days having to deal with Stewart. Or the looks. Or the memories.
Zara was overwhelmed. She was sure her body was going into shock. Clearly, her system wasn’t used to good news.
Ally knew what she was thinking. “You never have to see his stupid face again. Ever!”
“Just your stupid face then? Every morning?”
“Think you can deal with that?”
“Oh, my god!” Zara rushed forward to hug Ally but ended up just pushing her torso onto Ally’s with both hands straight out to hold the mugs upright. Ally laughed as she hugged Zara—all on her own.
“Of course, yes!”
Zara looked at her smiling friend. She had never seen her happier.
“We need to celebrate, Ally!”
“I have a stupid idea.”
“I’m sure even your stupid ideas can get funding. So what is it?”
“I think we should go to that house party.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Zara looked at her best friend and smiled. She quickly switched to Chet’s thick drawl. “Hell, yeah!”
TWO
Who Needs A Heart?
This is a house, right? As in, a place that someone lives?”
“I feel like we’ve walked into the future.” Ally halted as they stared at the huge house in front of them.
Zara stood next to Ally, biting her nude lipstick off. It was her most annoying habit, and she quickly forced herself to stop as she admired the sprawling home. It reminded her of a jewelry box her parents had bought for her on her fourteenth birthday, one made of sturdy, transparent plastic, allowing her to see every necklace, bracelet, and ring.
This house was a jewelry box come to life.
The place was made of all glass, and anyone walking by could see every piece of expensive furniture and priceless art, along with the large, immaculate kitchen and a marble fireplace.
And the dozens and dozens of people hanging out inside, drinking, chatting, and having fun.
“I can see right through every corner of this place.” She tilted her head up toward the first floor. “I hope the bathroom walls aren’t made of glass.”
“That could be awkward.”
Ally chuckled. “I doubt anyone actually lives here. It’s too pretty.”
Zara took Ally’s hand. “Well, let’s find out.”
The massive, open floor plan was minimalist in its décor. Decorated in light greys and muted nudes, it was the kind of place Zara had only seen gracing magazine spreads. She glanced at the floor to ceiling mirror that spanned the entire wall on her left. Ally looked as awed by the place as Zara felt.
Zara drew in a deep breath. “I've never been to a party like this one.”
“An adult party?”
“You said it.” It was a nice, subdued event. Soft music playing in the background, servers circling effortlessly through the elegant guests who stood in small groups of three or four. Most of the guests looked young enough to be college students, very sophisticated college students, that is. A myriad of colorful canapés on gleaming glass trays. The spacious, open-concept home wasn’t packed to the rafters. No one was drunk or rowdy. “I feel like we just stepped into a movie.”
“I know, right?”
“Hey! Zara! Ally! You made it!”
That over-excited howl could only belong to Chet. He steered his way through the unmoving, unswaying people to greet the girls, arms opened wide for a hug, almost as if they hadn't just sat at the beach together an hour ago.
“Isn’t this rocking?” Chet noticed their wide-eyed wonder as the girls scanned the place.
“Who owns this glass palace?”
Chet chuckled. “I have no idea. But Ally, you should try to find him.”
“Why’s that?”
“I hear the owner’s in tech, just like you. Super successful. Look at all the supermodels in this place.”
“Ah, that’s why this looks like a movie set.” Zara grimaced.
He laughed too hard, and Zara giggled at his overenthusiasm.
Chet, seemingly worried he was missing an inside joke, tried to change the subject.
“Maybe this owner can help fund Soul Mate, Ally.”
“Actually, Chet, the owner’s too late.”
Chet stiffened, waiting for whatever was coming. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
Zara grinned. “Actually, it’s very okay. Ally got her funding!”
Chet’s jaw fell open as he stared in awe at Ally. “Shut up! Did you?” His slightly chubby face was alight with genuine excitement. “Congratulations, Ally.” He wrapped Ally’s tiny body in his big six-foot frame. “You deserve it. I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks, Chet.”
“But I have a favor to ask.”
“Sure, what?”
“Can you give me a job?”
Zara and Ally stared at Chet’s hopeful face, their smiles frozen in place.
“Please, I need a job. My parents are bugging me a lot lately, and I could really use some help. Please? Ally?”
Zara was the first to recover. “Do you know anything about tech startups?”
He shrugged, unapologetically waiting for an affirmative response.
“Look, Chet,” Ally glanced around sheepishly. “We don’t even know what we need—”
“Man, I’ll run errands. I’ll grab your coffee, Ally. I’ll become a troll!”
Zara laughed at his eagerness, and Ally stole a sideways glance at her. She already looked like she was melting at his sweet request. “Well, now that you mention troll . . . Yeah, we could use one of those.”
“We?” Chet glanced from Zara to Ally. “Wait a minute . . . Is Zara coming on board as well?”
“Chet, please meet my Head of Marketing.”
“Now I really want to work there. A chance to work with the two coolest, most amazing women I've ever known? Sign me up.”
Ally clutched his forearm chuckling. “You don’t need to butter us up. We’ll find something for you.”
His face was a ball of gratitude, his blue eyes gleaming. “Hell, yeah! What’s my job gonna be?”
“Uh . . .”
Zara and Ally looked at each other and shrugged.
Ally lifted a hand. Clearly, inspiration had struck. “How about we start you out as Admin Assistant?”
“How’s that? That’s the best thin
g that’s ever happened in my life! Ally! My parents are going to be so happy I found something without their help. And at an innovative company.”
Zara grinned and extended a hand for Chet’s enthusiastic handshake. “Welcome aboard Soul Mate.”
He took Zara’s hand, shaking it jubilantly. His free hand shoved into his pocket to pull out a phone. “I’ll call my mom right away. Thank you so much, guys.” He already had the phone pressed to his ear when he turned away.
“That was really nice of you.”
“Well, he’s such a great guy.”
“Yeah.”
Zara stared at Chet’s back. Chet’s parents would hopefully see tangible proof that he was a good guy with something to offer anyone who put their faith in him.
Twenty minutes later, Zara was still lingering over her first glass of champagne, and Ally was basking in the glow of her success. Christy and Anna were cheering for her, while Spence tried his best to look happy for them.
Yet Zara and Ally felt out of place.
The glass palace, Zara deduced, hosted a superficial bunch of people at this party who barely spoke to each other. And the conversation Zara had overheard all circled around expensive art, ski trips to Boulder, or the price of real estate in San Francisco.
All things Zara couldn’t relate to. Her most expensive purchase had been a Prada handbag three years ago, bought on sale for $150. And it had spent most of those entire three years in its original packaging on the top shelf of her closet, only to come out for very special occasions. Which meant very infrequently. Now that she thought about it, if she had known she’d wind up here, she would have brought the bag.
Ally clutched Zara’s forearm and leaned close. “This is giving me serious déjà vu feels. I swear I felt exactly like this when we barged into the wrong apartment that time.”
“I remember that. That family was not expecting those balloons.”
“I feel like I should make a run for it before these people know I’m here.”
“I know. But would you prefer to go back and drink Christy’s drink out of chipped mugs?” The expression on Ally’s face said it all. “I didn’t think so.”
“There's only one way we have any hope of enjoying this party.”
Zara shook her head. “No, don’t say it.”