Silicon Valley Sweetheart

by St. Claire, Alyssa

  Mark stood up and grabbed both of our carry-on bags.

  “What do you think you’re doing with that?” He looked at me like he didn’t understand what I was saying.

  “You don’t have to carry that,” I said, trying to take it from him. “I can handle it.”

  “You don’t really believe I would let a lady carry her luggage, do you?” he smiled wryly, continuing to walk towards plane door.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Once we were off the plane, we kept a fast pace walking towards baggage claim. Neither of us said anything. It was uncomfortable walking in silence.

  “I’ve told you about me... Probably more than you wanted to know. What’s your story?”

  He slowed down.

  “Well, contrary to some narrowly held beliefs, I’m not strange...”

  Even though I had just met him, he was right, he didn’t seem strange. At least he didn’t seem like the deranged stalker-type of strange. I don’t know what it was, but something made me feel like I could trust him.

  “This is home. I’ve been in New York the past month on business. We just acquired a company there and I was helping to integrate the merger. Now I’m back in the Bay Area where I live. Hopefully, it will be a while before I have to travel again.”

  We continued to talk as we made our way to the baggage claim. When the luggage starting coming onto the carousel, Mark suddenly froze. His shoulders tensed up, and his jaw got tight. I wondered what had happened.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

  “Fuck!” he whispered under his breath. I could tell he hadn’t meant for me to hear that. He grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “Please just go along with this. I’m begging you. I’ll make it worth your while. I will owe you big time!”

  A tall, muscular man wearing a suit and dark glasses approached us. “Mark, your father wants to see you immediately. I’m to take you directly to his office.”

  The way this man said Mark needed to go with him worried me. I wondered if he wasn’t some sort of mob henchman or something like that. Mark didn’t seem too concerned, though. He put his arm around my waist and introduced me to him. “Martin, this is Shirin, my fiancee. Please help us with our bags.”

  Turning towards me, he said, “Shirin, this is Martin, my father’s driver.”

  I was reassured to know the man in front of me wasn’t there to take us to some desolate location where I would never be seen or heard from again.

  Still, I had no idea what was going on. But, at this point, Mark was the only soul I knew in San Francisco. And for some unknown reason, I felt safe with him. Hopefully, he was going to take me somewhere near Stanford. Plus, going with him would resolve my challenge of getting out of the airport.

  * * *

  It took about 45 minutes to get from the airport to his father’s Silicon Valley office. The building was huge. It said Woodham Industries in big letters on the side. Unlike the skyscrapers I was used to seeing in New York, this was a large single story building that was completely glass on the outside. There were tons of cars in the parking lot.

  As we walked into the large lobby, the marble floor caused a slight echo. A blonde receptionist greeted Mark as we entered. He waved at her. After entering a combination into a lock pad on the door, he held the door open for me and I stepped through.

  “Where are we going?” I whispered.

  “My father’s office is at the back of the building.” We must have walked past a hundred cubicles. The room was abuzz with the sound of people working. I could tell this was a high-tech company. We continued to walk until we approached what appeared to be another lobby. Mark stopped at the mahogany reception desk. We could hear voices behind the closed doors. The windows were frosted. I could make out two figures in the office, but I couldn’t see who they were.

  “Fred, this is a problem. As long as your son continues to be ‘Playboy of the Week,’ no one is going to take him seriously. He’s nowhere near ready to take over this company. Especially when he can’t keep himself out of the newspapers like his latest stunt with his Porsche. I don’t even want to know how much that incident cost the company.

  “And, even if he could manage the company, he doesn’t possess your technical capacity. You need someone who can take over the technical part of the business, too. Who have you groomed to do that?”

  Before we could hear his father’s response, a slender brunette in a very stylish pantsuit walked in. She was more dressed up than the other employees I had seen. I assumed she must have been Mark’s father’s assistant.

  She smiled at Mark and said, “Hi, Mark. Your father has been waiting for you. He should be done with his meeting in a few minutes. He wanted me to tell you he’d like you to wait for him in the Spyglass conference room.”

  “Thanks, Lisa. Let me introduce you to Shirin.”

  She turned to me and said, “Nice to meet you. Can I get you some coffee?” She seemed friendly.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “Would you please let Fred know that I am here?” Mark asked.

  She nodded and went back to her desk. It seemed strange to me that Mark would use his father’s name instead of referring to him as his dad.

  Mark grabbed my hand and we started walking again. He directed me to go into a small conference room. He shut the door as soon as we got into the room.

  “When are you going to tell me what is going on?” I asked.

  “Sit down,” Mark said, pointing to one of the chairs in the room. Taking a seat in the chair next to me, he slumped down. He rubbed his hand through his hair, “Just some family problems. My dad has cancer. It’s terminal. My stepmother is attempting to persuade him to sell the company before he passes. If that happens, I’ll lose everything. I’ll be out of a job. The proceeds of the sale will go into a separate trust, and everything my dad has spent his entire life trying to accomplish will be gone.”

  I thought for a moment. “Aren’t most Silicon Valley companies public? There must be some shareholders or something who would have to approve the sale of the company.”

  Mark shook his head. “My dad never took the company public. He wanted to retain control and didn’t like the restrictions going public would put on him. It’s funny. He got started at the same time as many of the other legendary Silicon Valley companies. Even though most people outside of the industry have never heard of him, he’s very well known in the industry. He’s done well for himself.”

  Just then, there was a knock on the door. Three engineering-type guys walked in. They were all dressed in jeans and polo shirts. Note to self: no one here seems to dress like they do in New York.

  Mark introduced them to me as James Pearson, Pete Cheng, and Jay Patel. They seemed pleasant.

  “Hey, Mark. Glad you’re here. NTL had to shut their line down. They’re stuck until we solve this design issue. We need to figure out a solution to this problem like yesterday,” James said.

  He pulled out his laptop and set it on the conference room table. He plugged it into an LCD projector. “We believe we’ve isolated the problem to this,” he said, pointing to a complex math equation that came up on the whiteboard. Looking at Mark, it was clear he had no clue what he was looking at. I stared at the equation. It was familiar to me.

  “Did your father say whether he wanted us to wait for him to get here or start without him?” James asked.

  “We should wait. He should be here in a couple of minutes. He’s the one with the technical smarts,” Mark said.

  “I heard about your latest car crash. What the hell happened?” Jay asked.

  “Oh, that...” I could see the question made Mark uncomfortable. He just shrugged his shoulders.

  No one noticed me pull out the newspaper I’d bought earlier at the airport. I glanced at the picture. The headline read, “Bad Boy Mark Woodham’s Fiery Car Crash”. I realized it was him. I quickly put it aside before anyone saw me.

  As the others talked, I continued staring at the equat
ion. My father had drilled me to solve this kind of equation when he would teach me about engineering back at home in Tehran.

  I could see a look of relief on Mark’s face when a man with an air of authority walked into the conference room and took a seat at the head of the table. I assumed it was Mark’s father. He was much shorter than I had expected. From the way he sounded, I expected a much larger man. He nodded to everyone and asked, “What do we know so far?”

  “We believe we’ve identified the source of the problem. It appears to be with this equation,” James said, pointing to the board. “So far, we have not been able to come up with the right solution to solve this issue.”

  I could see Fred was concerned. “What are you doing to resolve this?” he asked. I could see that James didn’t know what to say.

  Suddenly, I spoke. “Of course the equation won’t work. The coefficient in the gate-level subroutine is inverted. Set it right side up and things will smooth out for you.” I couldn’t believe what just came out of my mouth. All eyes turned toward me. Did I think I could solve a problem that perplexed the engineers of this company?

  “Go on,” Fred said. Mark watched me intently.

  “May I write on the whiteboard?”

  “Of course,” Fred nodded.

  I walked over and began modifying the equation. “You see, if you restore the coefficient and bound the data flow accordingly, that should eliminate the noise you’re currently getting at the logical level.”

  The room went silent. All four engineers stared at the problem up on the wall and what I had written on the whiteboard. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  Suddenly Fred spoke.

  “I think she’s pinpointed it. Good job. Of course, we’ll need to do some testing. But, this proposed solution may just have solved our biggest problem.”

  Turning to me, he said, “I don’t think we’ve met yet. Are you the new engineer James has been telling me about?”

  Mark took that as his cue. I was relieved he jumped in. He stood up and said, “No, she’s not an engineer at Woodham Industries, yet.”

  Turning to his father, he said, “Dad, I’d like you to meet my fiancee, Shirin.”

  Fred held out his hand. I reached across the table to shake his hand. I could see the disbelief in his eyes.

  Mark continued, “We met while I was working at our facility in New York.”

  “I guess congratulations are in order!” Fred exclaimed. “How long have you two been dating?”

  Oh no. Mark hadn’t shared any of this part of his plan with me. I wasn’t completely sure how we’d be able to pull this off.

  “We met awhile back in New York. I’m sure you can see how easily I fell in love with her. It was love at first sight for me. For you too, hon?”

  “Um... well... um... no, it wasn’t love at first sight for me.” I wasn’t prepared for this. “But, with some time, he’s grown on me and here we are.”

  Well, it was true anyway. Less than 24 hours ago, Mark was trying to get me to sleep with him at the nightclub where we met. If it had been love at first sight, it would have been a different story.

  “I see. I take it you’re an engineer. Where do you work, Shirin?” Fred asked.

  “I don’t have a job, yet. I’m scheduled to start Stanford this semester. That is... if I can resolve some issues that have arisen in the past 24 hours. I’ll be studying engineering. If my course load isn’t too heavy, I’m going to look for something part-time.”

  “Stanford. That is excellent. I’m an alum myself. Will you be getting your Ph.D.?” Fred seemed pleased that I was going to his alma mater.

  “No, sir. I completed some of my general education requirements at a community college in New York while I was working to save money for school. Based on the credits that can be transferred to Stanford, I’ll be starting as a sophomore. My father had taught me how to solve these equations before I immigrated here.”

  “I see. It looks like he did a great job.”

  Fred stood up. “James, please begin simulating Shirin’s solution immediately. I really think this could work.”

  Turning to me and Mark, Fred said, “Shirin, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Will you and Mark join me and Mark’s stepmother for dinner at the club this evening? Seven o’clock?”

  Mark nodded. “We’d be happy to get together with you and Brenda tonight, wouldn’t we, dear?”

  He looked over at me. “Um... yes, of course. I look forward to seeing you later on, Mr. Woodham.”

  “Please, call me Fred.”

  “OK, Fred. We’ll see you later.”

  Mark got up from the conference room table and I followed his lead. He didn’t say anything to me as we walked through the office back to the front of the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see most of Mark’s coworkers were watching me. My mind was going at 100 mph trying to process what in the world was going on.

  Chapter 5

  Once we got into the main lobby at Woodham Industries, Mark asked the receptionist to call Martin to pick us up. As we were waiting for the car to come around, I whispered, “When are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

  “Soon. I’ll have Martin drop us off at my condo. Don’t worry. I’m not going to try to seduce you. I’ll explain everything to you once we’re there.”

  Martin opened the door for me. I climbed in. Mark followed after me. We didn’t speak on the way to his condo. I looked out the window as we drove. I was amazed at how much different Palo Alto was from New York. Everywhere in New York seemed to be bustling with activity, with lots of high rises and tons of people. This area seemed much more low-key. It was more like going to upstate New York rather than New York City, itself.

  We pulled up to a gated condo complex. Seeing Mark in the back seat, the attendant opened up the gate for us. This must be where Mark lives. I thought the buildings looked relatively new. Martin drove to the back of the complex. He pulled the car near the sidewalk and got out to unload our bags. Martin carried my luggage and Mark brought in his own.

  Mark unlocked the door to his condo. We stepped inside. It was nice. Spotless, in fact. The green walls with beige trim matched the cream leather furniture perfectly. He had a huge TV on the wall that had to have been at least 65’. I was sure he’d spent many hours in front of watching sports.

  I laughed to myself, not a Persian rug in sight. If the situation had been different, I imagine my uncle would have tried to convince Mark he needed to buy some expensive rugs. It’s no wonder my uncle was one of the biggest distributors in New York. He was always trying to sell someone...

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Mark said. “Can I get you a beer?”

  I sat down on one of the stools in front of the kitchen bar. Looking around the kitchen, I noticed none of the appliances looked like they had ever been used.

  “I’m more of a wine girl, myself. But if that’s all you have, it will do.”

  “Sorry, I’m afraid I only have beer.”

  Mark opened the refrigerator. Either he hadn’t been home in weeks or the man doesn’t cook. There was a bottle of ketchup, a bottle of mayonnaise, and a six-pack of beer in there. He opened a bottle of beer and handed it to me. “Cheers,” he said, raising his bottle to mine. “You were amazing today. I had no idea you were so smart.”

  “And here you thought I was just a pretty face,” I smiled.

  “You don’t know how much hotter this makes you,” Mark said with a wink.

  While I appreciate a compliment just as much as the next girl, so far, Mark had completely managed to skirt the issue of why we were pretending to be the lovely engaged couple.

  “So, tell me, why are we playing house?” I asked.

  “Our engagement? Well, like I started to tell you in the conference room, my dad has cancer - stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma to be precise. According to his doctors, it’s terminal. They’ve given him three to six months to live.

  “My mother was involve
d in a fatal car accident when I was eight. She was the love of his life. Dad’s luck with women after my mom passed has not been very good...

  “I really think my current stepmother—Brenda—only married him for his money. With every woman he gets involved with, it always ends up being about the money. You’d think by now he would learn that he gets taken to the cleaners every time someone new comes into his life. Good thing his business has done so well. He needs to keep making money so he can pay for the ex-wives.”

  This still wasn’t making sense to me. What did his father’s love life have to do with us pretending to be engaged?

  Mark continued. “My father’s current wife, step-monster #4, is trying to persuade my father to sell Woodham Industries before he passes.”

  I laughed at his phrase for his stepmother.

  “As you heard in the office today, people don’t think I take life seriously enough to be able to take over the reins of the company. And so, the plan is to present a new and improved Mark Woodham to the public, and to my father. One who can take the helm of the company my father has sacrificed so much to build.”

  “If your father sells the business, won’t you get a piece of it?”

  “Shirin, it’s not just about finances. It’s about legacy. My father gave everything to this company. When a person quits the company, they don’t just quit Woodham Industries. They quit Fred, too.

  “Look, I know all my stepmother wants is the money. If my father still owns the business upon his death, it passes to me. If he sells it while he’s still alive, I’ll still get the money in my trust fund, but I won’t get anything from the business at all. All the proceeds will end up going to my stepmother.”

  This was a lot to take in. Even though it didn’t make logical sense, something in me wanted to help him.

  “I understand wanting to continue what your father has dedicated so much of his life to.” Without thinking I agreed. “I’ll do it. How long do we have to pretend we’re engaged?” I asked.