by Camy Tang
But how would it look to have her drunken mother tagging along? Would it be worse than allowing her to stagger from person to person throughout the room? And Venus couldn’t get rid of the mass of worms in her stomach that wriggled and squirmed because she actually cared about how it looked. That these people and their wealth and connections mattered to her.
She’d played this game before—been to other company parties, schmoozed with other rich people, made alliances and gathered information—but she’d never had her own interests on the line like tonight. And she’d never had her mother with her.
Mom had turned a pasty mochi shade of white under her pink rouge. Venus whirled her around and pushed her to the restroom. She waited outside rather than going in because she freely admitted she didn’t really want to watch her mom casting up her accounts.
The lighting didn’t reach into this far corner, and the darkness cocooned her. She scanned the party—at least, as much of the crowd as she could see—searching for whom she might want to talk to.
There was the CEO of Giusti Graphics, a small gaming company, who had been Venus’s coworker at one of the startup companies she’d worked at. She could go say hi, see how the business was going for him. And there was her grandmother’s good friend, Mrs. Lee, whose children owned and operated various companies around the Bay Area. She’d ask Grandma to re-introduce her, in case Mrs. Lee didn’t remember meeting her four years ago. Venus hoped to meet Drake’s parents, since she hadn’t been introduced yet. Gerry was here somewhere too. And there was…
She suddenly felt hollow. Mercenary. Shallow. More concerned about her gaming company than her own mother—regardless of how irritating that mother was at the moment. She was certainly a wonderful Christian, honoring her mother so well.
Except God had been the one to drop her into her family as the fat only child of a beautiful, selfish mother. God had done all this to her. She pressed her hand to her forehead.
No, she wouldn’t go down that road again. She’d struggled with this anger for so long, it was burning a hole in her soul. She knew she had to stop blaming God when all the choices she’d made were her own.
Like now. Her gaming company.
But didn’t God want her to be successful? Didn’t He want her to use the brains and talent He’d given to her? How could her gaming company be bad?
She knew she hadn’t prayed enough about this. She would—later. Right now, she needed to concentrate on the party, on meeting the right people, on utilizing this opportunity Grandma had given to her.
“Hey, Venus.” Drake materialized out of the darkness like Dracula.
She jumped six feet into the air. When she got her breath back, she jabbed him in the arm, creasing his jacket. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t even rub his arm. She must not have hit him hard enough.
“Waiting on my moth—”
“Drake.” Esme approached like a faerie, bringing light to contrast the darkness cloaking Venus. “Your mother asked me to find you.”
She’d already met his mother?
“What did she need?” Drake shifted his weight away from Venus, closer to Esme in a protective stance.
“Actually…” Esme colored, roses and cream in her smooth cheeks. “She wanted you to introduce me to Ron Hinck.”
Hinck… Hinck…oh, that’s right. CEO of Blood Mechanics, the newest gaming company on the block.
Drake’s face brightened, as if Esme’s cheerful presence had saved him from Venus’s dark mood. Which it probably had. “That’s a good idea. I saw him by the bar.” They walked away.
Venus wanted to grab her shoe and hurl it at the back of his head, but it would be a waste of a shoe.
She turned back to the restroom door and sighed. She pushed the door open. “Mom, are you okay?” Retching sounds echoed against the tile walls so she couldn’t be sure where her mom was, but Venus thought she saw a shadow under the door of the last stall.
“Venus.” The voice sounded right in her ear.
She gasped and whirled. Grandma stood beside her. That was the second time tonight—why was she so jumpy? “Hi, Grandma. Sorry, you scared me.”
“Are you all right?” She eyed Venus, standing with one foot in the restroom and one foot out.
“Mom’s inside.”
“Ah.” Grandma’s lips pressed together. “Well, I need you to come with me. She’ll be fine if you leave her.”
“Leave her? She’s sick.” As if Grandma couldn’t hear that quite clearly.
“Which means she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Good point. “What do you need me for?”
“I was talking with Hudson Collins.” Her lips spread into a rich smile. “He wants to meet you.”
TWENTY-ONE
He is not God. He is not God.
He was just king of the entire fiefdom of gaming.
Venus had dealt with important men before—CEOs, CFOs, boards of directors, venture capitalists. Why would Hudson be any different?
Well, she’d never had her own company on the line before. She’d never had a development tool about to be unveiled that would change the face of game development across the country.
He’d understand the import of the Spiderweb. Venus just needed to charm him, to make sure he understood that she was professional, efficient, and someone he’d like to work with.
Um…yeah. Charm. Compared to Esme tonight, Venus had as much charm as a box of cornflakes.
Grandma cut a swath through the crowd surrounding a short, robust man who reminded her of Reed Richards from the Fantastic Four comic. He had the dab of silver at his temples and the air of a scientist, not a businessman.
Grandma smiled at him as she guided Venus forward. “Hudson, my granddaughter, Venus Chau.”
They exchanged polite nothings. Up close, she realized that although he gave off an air of casual friendliness, his eyes were as warm as a Minnesota winter, an icy blue. They regarded her now with speculation and a little incredulity. She lifted her chin, hoping to present a businesslike air despite the romantic Marchesa gown.
“Your grandmother says you’re working on a development tool.” He bestowed a gentle curving of his lips, dimpling his weathered cheeks, but Venus wasn’t fooled. It was a You’re female and pretty, so I can’t believe you’ d have a brain type of smile.
“The tool is completed. It’s in testing right now.” She battled him with her gaze. What do you say to that? This little bimbo isn’t just “working” on it; she’s actually finished the tool.
He blinked once, slowly. The disbelieving expression had morphed to one that said, You’ve probably made something simplistic that doesn’t live up to your assertions about it. You can fool your grandmother, but not me. “Tell me about it.”
“The Spiderweb encompasses all disciplines—designing, animation, programming. It’s compatible with the different applications for all three areas of game development. We’ve established compatibility with most programming and design software. We verified 3ds Max, and we’re verifying MoCap data and Maya right now.”
Hudson had stilled, like a snowy mountaintop just before an avalanche. Venus wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“Most programming and design software?”
“Yes.” Go ahead. Start rattling them off, as if I don’t know what software programmers and designers use.
He opened his mouth as if he’d do just that, but then he closed it again. A chinook wind blew through his icy gaze. “Tell me more—”
“Hudson, so good to see you.”
Yardley! Venus’s hands fisted at his unctuous voice. What was he doing here? She didn’t think Grandma had invited him—she’d have told Venus if she’d been forced to. Venus glanced around. Where was Grandma? She needed one of her famous set-downs right about now.
Even Hudson’s brow wrinkled at Yardley’s rudeness in interrupting their conversation, which made Venus start breathing again. Maybe h
e’d foist Yardley off so they could continue.
“Hello, Yardley. How’s your uncle doing?”
Bummer.
Yardley had transformed into a simpering idiot. Apparently his uncle and Hudson were good friends, and so Hudson wasn’t about to treat him like the slimeball he was. So Yardley spent time—her time!—chatting about things and people she could care less about. Venus plastered a polite expression on her face and hoped they wouldn’t notice her clenching jaw.
Yardley slipped her a sly side glance—yes, he knew exactly what he was doing and how Venus felt about it. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from winding up and popping him one in his sneaky, arrogant nose.
“I see you’ve met Venus.” Yardley bestowed a gracious smile in her direction. “She, ah…left my employ a few months ago.”
The way he said it implied she’d been fired, not that she quit. She opened her mouth, but he beat her to it.
“She certainly lives up to her reputation in the business.”
The most well-known aspect of which was how difficult she was to work with. The creep. “I simply wanted to spread my wings, Yardley. The people at Bananaville respect my opinions and expertise.” In ways Oomvid never did.
Yardley’s smile widened and sharpened. She was going to slap the challenge off his face right here in the middle of Grandma’s party if someone else didn’t do it first.
“Hudson, I thought that was you.” A woman’s voice, flowing like Chinese silk, entered the fray. A fragile Asian woman cut right through Yardley and Venus in order to take Hudson’s hand. A stout Asian man with a naval commander’s presence followed her, and then Venus saw Drake behind him.
His bland expression made her stand down. He’d brought the cavalry.
The woman gave a cool nod to Yardley, then turned to Venus with a shining face. “I’m Diana Yu, Drake’s mother. I’ve been wanting to meet you. This is my husband, Paul.”
She returned his firm handshake. His face was stern, but his eyes gleamed. “I’ve heard rumors about an innovative development tool you’ve completed.”
“It’s in testing phase.”
He glanced at his son. “Drake says the program is excellent.”
What was she supposed to say to that? She smiled and kept her mouth shut, aware of Hudson following the conversation even though Yardley attempted to distract him.
“And you’re starting a game development company?”
“I’m forming my team now.”
“Drake and Gerry have both been impressed with you while you’ve been at Bananaville. Gerry told me you have good business acumen and organizational abilities. Drake vouches for your technical expertise.”
Whoa. Did Drake tell his father to say that? Hudson glanced at her, ignoring Yardley completely. She smiled at Paul. “Thank you.” Her eyes found Drake’s, just over his father’s shoulder, and communicated a silent Thanks.
“I’d be curious to look at your business plan when you’ve finished it.”
Oh my. Paul Yu had just set himself up to rival Hudson Collins in investment in her company. Dangerous, but clever tactic.
Paul turned to give Hudson a neutral gaze, while Hudson actually grinned. “You old dog.”
Paul guffawed. “Not older than you.”
Yardley’s rather strident voice cut through the conversation. “That woman is going to cause a scene.”
The crowd parted like a curtain to reveal Venus’s worst nightmare. Her mother, laughing and sloshing a drink, flirting with the same handsy guy who had felt the sting of Venus’s heel earlier. What was his name?
The man stepped in front of her mother, blocking her view, but Venus noticed immediately when Mom’s wild cavorting toned down. Oh, no. Not a good sign. If Mr. King lived up to expectations, her mother was going to respond any second—
Slap!
The sound sliced through the murmuring of the crowd, Mom had hit him so hard. The man bent nearly double, his hand up to his face.
Paul Yu frowned. “That’s Arnold King. Doesn’t he own that art gallery in Saratoga?”
Yardley’s voice in a pseudo-whisper carried to everyone around her. “Venus, isn’t that your mother?”
Esme would not stop talking.
Which might be a good thing, since Drake wasn’t really in a mood to talk. But her prattling grated like a car’s steel frame dragging on asphalt. He pulled onto the freeway, missing Venus’s presence in the car.
“It’s too bad Venus had to leave early to drive her mother home. She looked so voluptuous in that gown.”
The way she said it made Drake’s hackles rise. Her tone didn’t imply a compliment, exactly He said nothing. Venus had completely knocked him out in that dress—his brain had dribbled out of his head when he first saw her—so he assumed Esme had some natural feminine jealousy.
“And I can’t believe Venus’s mother,” Esme breathed in touching concern.
He gave her a side glance.
“Such embarrassment for Venus’s grandmother. And poor Venus looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.”
Actually, Venus had looked like she wanted to slit Yardley’s throat. His parents, who knew a little about Venus’s mom from what he and Gerry told them, had been sympathetic to her awkward situation, but he wasn’t sure what it had done for Venus’s case with Hudson Collins. And after what he’d done to try to bail her out.
It had been such a coincidence. He’d happened to be with his parents, and he’d happened to see Yardley approach Venus and Hudson. Esme had happened to be occupied talking with Ron Hinck—when Esme said she wanted to meet the CEO, he had been relieved to foist her off on Ron after she’d clung to Drake all evening. And Drake’s parents happened to hate Yardley’s guts after working with Oomvid for their third level of funding a few years ago. So, after he explained what he wanted, his mother had practically charged over to Hudson, Venus, and Yardley. But the rescue mission hadn’t done any good.
Esme sighed. “It’s too bad Venus was so caught up in networking that she didn’t notice her mother’s behavior.”
He opened his mouth, but then some check inside him made him close it. He remembered when he’d come upon Venus outside the women’s restroom. Before Esme interrupted them, she said she’d been waiting on her mother—probably while her mother was being thoroughly sick in a stall. Since her grandmother had been with her and Hudson, he guessed Mrs. Sakai dragged her away from the bathroom in order to introduce her to Hudson.
Esme seemed rather catty tonight about Venus, especially when they hadn’t spoken to each other much all evening.
“And how rude to slap that poor man.”
Drake knew Arnold King. Gerry had complained about him after a party at his art gallery a few years ago, so he had a good idea what had made Venus’s mother deck him. However, he wasn’t about to enlighten Esme.
She dipped her head, fiddling with her clutch purse. She looked almost shy, except she’d been pointed enough in her comments since they got in the car. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you tonight as your date.”
No, no, no. He needed to nip this in the bud. “Actually, you were my parents’ guest, since you took Gerry’s place on their invitation. So send them a thank-you card tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She looked confused, then her face settled into a neutral expression. For some reason, it didn’t make Drake relax as he glanced at her.
If anything, it had been an enlightening evening. While Venus was her normal cactus self—but flowering in that incredible gown—Esme had been cloying like his grandmother’s perfume, and just as easily gave him a headache. He never thought he’d say it, but he preferred Venus with all her frowns and moods over Esme’s smiles and not-quite-innocent remarks.
He needed a good swift smack upside the head.
The physical attraction had always been there, but he never thought there was more to it than that. Yet here he was, preferring Venus in all her snarkiness, snarls, and sharp edges.
However, despite all he
r barking, Venus was a straight shooter. From Esme’s remarks tonight, she seemed to have an onion’s acrid layers to be unveiled. He didn’t like surprises.
He couldn’t reach Esme’s apartment fast enough. He pulled to the curb in front of her complex’s gate and she turned to him with a sweet smile. “Thanks for such a wonderful evening. Would you like to come in for some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I have work that I need to finish tonight.”
She patted his arm. “Poor thing. Don’t work too hard.”
His heart attack last year ensured he’d never do that again. He didn’t answer.
“Good-night.” She got out of the car and shut the door.
He waited until she’d safely entered through the gate—with a cheerful wave in his direction—before driving away. Had he been clear enough in his message to her? He didn’t want Esme holding hopes when he wanted to focus in a different direction.
Maybe the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about Venus meant that there might be more to this than just the physical pull. He’d kept her at a distance because he had never done something so unprofessional as an in-house relationship, and he hadn’t wanted to waste time on something transient. But maybe this wasn’t transient. Maybe this was worth a deeper look.
Lately she’d treated him with regard and politeness versus thinly veiled hostility. He could thank the stash of Reese’s in his desk for that. And they might even be doing her good—she was less bony lately.
He’d have a chance to talk to her in a few weeks at the youth group ski retreat in Lake Tahoe. Four days in a cabin with twenty teenagers would make her eager to spend some time outside, alone with him.
Until then, he’d tread carefully. She’d be peevish at work on Monday after the disaster tonight.
He’d make sure to stick a Reese’s on her desk in the morning.
TWENTY-TWO
Drake wasn’t a bad driver, but he was driving her nuts.
He’d change lanes to pass when she would have waited for the car in the other lane to zoom by and pulled in behind him. He’d wait behind a slow-moving vehicle when she’d have zipped left and passed him. He’d accelerate at first when merging onto the freeway, but then he’d slow down if there was a car approaching—supposedly to let it pass him before he merged into traffic—but the car would inevitably slow down too, because most drivers sped up when merging, and then the two of them would be going 45 mph on the freeway!