by Camy Tang
Her mother’s head, visible above the top of the car, halted before she squeezed into Venus’s miniscule backseat. “Of course. Where else would I be?” She flashed an “I’m such a compassionate aunt” smile before ducking into the car.
Venus caught the smirk on her grandmother’s face as she flipped the passenger seat back into place and eased herself in.
Who knew Grandma had a sardonic streak?
She drove Mom home while listening to her swing between gushing over the baby and grousing about Venus’s tiny car.
“That’s why I’m taking you home first, Mom.” Oops, did she lay the sarcasm on too thick on that one?
“Well, your place is so close. You could have dropped me off there to wait for you while you took Grandma home.”
What was the deal with Mom wanting to spend so much time with her all of a sudden? Her mother had turned into one of those clingy Jellyfish Monsters from the video game who would lock her in a death grip and suck her face off.
By the time they arrived at her mom’s apartment, Venus’s foot itched to give her an extra boost out the door. Well, not really. No matter how annoying her mother got, she couldn’t truly want to cause her physical harm. But she wouldn’t feel badly over a few bruises.
Something inside her twinged as she watched Mom amble toward her apartment complex gate. A daughter shouldn’t despise her mother, no matter how unmotherly she’d been for most of her life.
But she’d only become halfway kind to Venus once she’d lost all that weight, not before. And that was hard for any daughter to take. As if to mock her thoughts, her mom gave a cheerful wave before she closed the complex gate and disappeared.
Venus drove away. Now was her chance. Her chest tightened and butterflies fluttered inside—she took a deep breath. In the darkness of the car, somehow Grandma seemed more approachable. Don’t screw this up. “Grandma, I need some advice.”
“I’m always happy to help you, Venus.” Her mild voice held a thin, sardonic ribbon.
Venus almost didn’t continue. She wouldn’t be talked down to, not by anyone, especially Grandma. Except she needed her help, so Grandma was entitled to some condescension. She damped down her temper. “I’m thinking of starting my own game development company.”
“What’s your product?” Her voice had changed. Suddenly Venus heard the crisp, confident thread of steel that made her so good at running the bank.
“I have a good idea for a game, but more than that, a friend and I are working on a development tool that will enable all aspects of a game development team to access all other areas—the Spiderweb unites design, animation, and programming.”
“I’m assuming there’s nothing like this tool out there, in any other versions?”
“It’s been tried by other companies, but ours is more comprehensive. There’s nothing close to it out in the market.”
“You don’t want to partner with any other game development companies out there already? It would be the easier option.”
This was a test. Venus knew it somehow. Yardley’s arrogant face flashed in front of her, as well as the faces of the other VPs. She blinked it away. “No. For the Spiderweb, I’d want my own company, my own game.” I think, anyway. But she needed to sound confident for Grandma, or she’d rip her idea to shreds. “I’ll succeed or fail on my own.”
“You’re going to quit your current company?” There seemed to be a brighter tone to Grandma’s voice. Venus must have passed the test. She couldn’t be sure because it was dark and she wasn’t about to take her eyes off the road to peer at her grandmother’s darkened face.
“I’m strongly considering it.” Probably. Maybe. Why couldn’t she just make up her mind?
“Do you have enough money?”
Venus hesitated. Here again was the quandary. Before she could formulate her answer, Grandma spoke again. “Do you need—”
“No, I’m not asking you for money.” She made her voice firm. “I still need time to set things up so that I can present to an angel investor. I might work for another company while hiring people, finishing the Spiderweb, designing the game demo.”
“Then what do you need from me?”
“Angel investor recommendations.”
“Is your business plan drawn up?”
“I’m working on it now.” It wasn’t totally a lie—she had a generic template on her computer at home, and a few lines written in it. “I’m not sure if I’ll need it, because I have an open invite from a friend at EA to show them our demo when it’s done.”
“I have to admit, I’m not as familiar with the gaming industry.”
Okay, one—Grandma was actually admitting to imperfection, and two—did that mean she couldn’t help Venus? “Most gaming investors want to see a good game demo rather than a business plan. Once we finish the Spiderweb, we’ll work on that. I have a game idea that’s unique enough to stand out in the current market, and what will really sell it is how little time it took to create the demo because of the Spiderweb.”
Grandma was silent. Had she offended her with her explanation of the gaming industry? No, Venus wouldn’t second-guess herself. She wasn’t going to waste her time or Grandma’s if there wasn’t anything she could do for her.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Grandma sounded faintly surprised.
“I wouldn’t jump into this on a whim.” Venus wasn’t her mother.
“No, I wouldn’t think you would.”
What? A compliment from Grandma? Venus must be hearing things.
“I have one friend in the gaming industry. His name is Hudson Collins.”
Hudson Collins??? The “ungettable get”? The most prestigious, respected investor in the video game industry in the entirety of northern California? Everything Hudson chose to pursue turned to gold, so he had gained an almost magical reputation with video game publishers. If Hudson decided to back a particular project, doors opened like the thieves’ cave in the Arabian Nights.
If Venus could show Hudson her demo, he’d instantly realize the potential of both the game and the Spiderweb. And they’d be set.
“I could speak to him about you.”
“You would?”
Venus waited for the other shoe to drop. What would Grandma want in exchange? These days, since Venus had turned thirty, Grandma nagged a lot about dating. Although come to think of it, she’d backed off once Trish announced she was pregnant.
Still, what had Jenn said? Her theory was that Grandma was feeling her age, and grandchildren—and great-grandchildren—were her immortality. She also thought Grandma’s only Christian friend, Mrs. Matsumoto, had said something that hit too close to home, which was why Grandma chose to persecute the four cousins—the only Christians in their family.
Venus steeled herself. Who would Grandma want her to meet and possibly marry? (Because she was sure Grandma’s imagination did not stop at dating.) She hoped it wouldn’t be anyone totally dweeby. Geeks she was okay with—she worked with geeks.
“Here’s what I’ll do for you, Venus. I’ll mention your company to him. When you’re ready, and not a second before”—Grandma’s voice rang like a unsheathed katana sword—“I’ll introduce you to Hudson.”
Meaning, don’t take this opportunity and mess it up with incompetence or inadequate planning. “I won’t embarrass you, Grandma.”
Grandma started—Venus saw it out of the corner of her eye. Then she turned to Venus and laid a hand on her leg. “I’m glad we understand each other.” But there wasn’t a threat in her voice. It was more like … admiration. Did Grandma actually approve of her?
She turned into Grandma’s driveway and waited while she got out. Venus suddenly saw that yes, she was moving a bit slower than normal. She still favored her right hip—Lex had noticed that a year ago and pointed it out to them.
Grandma leaned down to speak to Venus. “You’re smarter than anyone else in the family, you know. I think you can do this.” She swung the door closed.
Venus could only gape. The air stopped in her throat as if a hand had cut off her esophagus. She watched Grandma walk up to the front door, unlock it, and let herself in. Only then did her throat open up, and she sucked in a whooshing breath.
Who had kidnapped her grandmother and replaced her with this nice woman?
Maybe her cousins were right. Maybe Grandma did relate to her because they were alike on some level. She’d felt comfortable talking business with her. They’d known exactly the deeper meanings behind what was said.
Maybe, with Grandma’s help, her company could succeed.
Only after she backed out of the driveway did she realize Grandma hadn’t yet told her what she expected in return.
SEVEN
She took a sick day for the first time in three years.
She knew because she inputted everything into her PDA ( people kept telling her to switch to a Blackberry or Treo or something like, but she couldn’t resist the cute phones that kept coming on the market) and her last sick day had been three years, two months, and eight days ago.
Yardley might expect an answer if he saw her, and she wasn’t ready to give him one. She needed time to think.
The night before, a quick call to the admin’s voice mail took care of it. Venus took her shower (she couldn’t stand a dirty body in clean sheets), then turned off her alarm before going to bed.
She still woke up at five.
Exercise. Shower. Coffee. Dress in jeans and a T-shirt. Bible reading…
Interrupted by her phone. Brrrring!
She shouldn’t answer it. She wasn’t going into work today, and who else would call her at six thirty in the morning? Brrrring!
Actually, even her admin didn’t come in that early.
Well, she was in the middle of First Kings and whoever it was could just wait until she’d finished. Brrrring!
Oh, for goodness’ sake, this was driving her nuts. She picked up the handset and checked caller ID.
“Hi, Grandma. Isn’t it a little early?”
“Oh, I knew you’d be up.”
Venus stifled a groan. “What do you need?”
“I don’t need anything, but I’d like you to do something for me.”
The music from Jaws cued up in her head. Oh, boy Here it comes. Grandma would finally tell her what she demanded in exchange for delivering Hudson Collins to her.
“What is it?” Venus tried not to sound like she was grimacing. Except she was grimacing.
“Why don’t you come over for breakfast?”
Grandma loved to prolong the suspense. Sometimes she could be as melodramatic as Trish. “Can you give me a hint about what you’d like to talk about?”
“I heard Drake Yu wants you to work for him.”
“What?” How had she found that out?
“I’d like you to take him up on his offer.”
Venus stood there speechless. She knew her mouth hung open, but she couldn’t get her jaw to close. She had turned into a statue of gelatin—stationary senseless.
She had vowed it would take an act of God for her to work for Drake again.
Or an act of Grandma.
Without makeup, Grandma looked almost human. Still beautiful, more earthy and natural than usual. But she’d already had her first cup of coffee, being an early riser like Venus.
No, not like Venus. She wasn’t like Grandma. “How did you know he wanted to hire me?” Venus leaned against the marble-topped island in Grandma’s kitchen and stared her down.
Grandma calmly sipped her second cup of coffee. “I heard about it from Mrs. Nishimoto. Her son works for one of your old companies and heard that Drake Yu was inquiring about you.” She set her cup down, her face completely reasonable, which made Venus feel like a drama queen in comparison. “I didn’t know for certain he wanted to hire you, but because of his inquiry I guessed he might. At the time, I didn’t think it was important because you were in line to become Game Lead at Oomvid, and I knew you wouldn’t consider becoming CTO at a smaller startup.”
Venus opened her mouth, then closed it. Grandma didn’t know she’d rather do a knee-knocking presentation in front of a million people—in her underwear, even—than work for Drake again. Grandma would naturally recall a job opportunity when Venus said she was thinking of quitting Oomvid.
“I didn’t even know you knew Drake.”
“I know his family.”
Ah, yes. The Yu family was one of the branches of the Triumvirate, one of the largest and most successful venture capital firms in the Bay Area. Of course Grandma would know them—they were both in money. Large quantities of it.
“Anyway, I talked to him about you—”
“You talked to him? Grandmaaaaa …”
“Let me clarify.” Grandma’s eyes narrowed, and she set her hand on her hip, making her stiff cotton nightgown billow out. “I spoke to his father, who suggested I talk to Drake.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t complain if Grandma had gone through his father.
“Drake said he’d called you a few days ago.”
“He did. Earlier than I would have liked.” Similar to a certain person who’d also called before normal business hours. Venus glowered at the kitchen clock. Seven fifteen.
Grandma waved a careless hand. “Oh, you’re always up.”
“I hadn’t even finished my coffee. I wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to decide my future at six thirty in the morning.”
Grandma shrugged. Not her problem. “When I spoke to him, he indicated he’d still like you to work for his sister’s company, even though you’re going to start up your own game development company. He knows it’s only a temporary position for you.”
Grandma had gone through an awful lot of trouble about this. Venus regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Why do you want this?”
She flung her hands up in disgust. “Want? I’m trying to find you a job. Do you see any benefit in this for me?”
Venus wasn’t one to be intimidated by her grandmother’s apparent frustration. Grandma could go into dramatics like the best of them in order to get her way.
Sure, Grandma was helping her. But why? Offering to help her with Hudson, calling Drake…
Wait a minute, why Drake? Venus didn’t buy that it was just because she’d gotten wind he was going to offer Venus a job. After all, his sister’s company was only a small startup.
“Are you matchmaking?”
Grandma’s hand flew to her chest and her shoulders drew back. “Me? What in the world made you jump to that conclusion?”
Even Grandma’s nose quivered with her indignation, but she didn’t fool Venus for a second. Drake Yu, CEO of four successful startups, oldest son of Paul Yu, one of the most respected venture capitalists in California, if not the entire United States.
What’s not to like?
“I didn’t like working for Drake, Grandma.”
“Why ever not? You’re both smart, handsome—did he not see you before you blossomed?”
Blossomed? Was that how Grandma saw it? Venus only remembered a week of puking because of the stomach virus, followed by six weeks of trying to keep jook rice gruel in her ultra-sensitive stomach, not blossoming. The blossoming came weeks later after her new exercise program and stricter eating had kicked in.
“He saw the before and after, Grandma.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged a little, then snapped back into place. “Well, now you’re even more improved. The two of you should work wonderfully together.”
“Because we’re both smart and handsome? Grandma, what are you smoking?”
She frowned at Venus, her eyes betraying her confusion, but aware that Venus was mocking her somehow. “You both have excellent work ethics. I should know. Are you going to refuse to work for him just because I like him?”
Put that way, it sounded completely idiotic for her to object. “I didn’t like working for him—”
“That was years ago. You don’t know if he’s changed for the better. And where
else are you going to find a good, yet temporary job while you start up your business?”
“Am I even going to have time to work on my own business while I’m with Drake’s company?”
“His sister’s company.”
“Fine, his sister’s company. As CTO, even of a small startup, I’m going to be working the same hours as I did before.”
“I’ll sweeten the deal for you.”
Venus crossed her bare feet, chilled by the tile floor. Or maybe the calculating look in Grandma’s eyes.
“If you work for Drake—yes, yes”—she held up a hand when Venus opened her mouth—“I know you didn’t like working for him, but listen to me. I want you to help him out, as a favor to his family from ours.”
Suddenly Venus felt like a guppy in a koi pond. This was bigger than her own plans—this involved the Sakai family, the Yu family. She could see a glimpse of what Grandma wanted, why she wanted this.
“In return, I will invest money in your company and tell Hudson Collins that I’ve invested.”
“What?”
“No strings.” Grandma met her eyes directly. “No rights to the Board of Directors.”
“You don’t invest in gaming companies. It won’t impress Hudson.” It would, actually. Grandma didn’t invest in companies very often—not even her own children’s companies—and her financial stamp of approval would go a long way toward garnering Hudson’s curiosity, at least, although it wouldn’t necessarily snag his deeper interest. But Venus wasn’t stupid—if Grandma was in a bargaining mood, so was she. She would milk this as far as Grandma would let her.
Grandma’s eyes flattened and her mouth pinched. She regarded Venus a long moment, but Venus didn’t break eye contact, didn’t waver in her gaze.
“Fine.” Grandma turned to the refrigerator and opened it. “I’ll also introduce you some time in the next few months so you can pitch the idea to him.” She set an egg and a plastic container of cantaloupe onto the counter. “I can give you fifteen minutes with him.”
Yes ! “Agreed.”
Grandma straightened with a carton of soymilk. The disgruntled look on her face indicated she regretted not bargaining more.