“Your mother just landed at SFO.” My assistant pauses too long, which means I’m going to hate what comes out of her mouth next. “Your sister said that Amelia’s with her.”
I pick up the glass and quickly drain it. If Mother’s dragging Amelia all the way here, that can only mean one thing.
Mother hasn’t just brought Amelia—she’s also brought an engagement ring. I’m certain of that.
I’m the eldest and the only son—of course I’m going to inherit control of the family assets. Lately my mother’s been hinting that it’s time for me to come home and assume my rightful place as the head of the family. My father passed when I was young, and my mother’s been doing more than fine on her own running things, but it’s time for me to step up now.
And get married to a suitable girl. There have been some not-so-subtle hints about that.
Mother seems to have moved on from subtle to pointed, bringing Amelia here. My mother has always thought Amelia would be the perfect bride for me, and Mother’s clearly decided to take matters into her own hands.
Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse.
Chapter Two
I haven’t let myself feel this hopeful in a long time.
My feet are practically bouncing off the pavement as I walk to the bus stop on Pixio’s main campus. It’s filled with trees and flowers and happy, busy engineers on their way to whatever happy, busy thing they’re working on. I’m already imagining myself among them, as brightly content as they are.
My imaginings are going to happen, which is why I’m practically floating. The interviewers offered me a job right on the spot, told me they’d arrange everything with Immigration and that they’re really looking forward to my starting there.
I’ve heard that before from the other tech companies Paul’s gotten me interviews at. The first time it happened, I let myself hope just like this. Then Immigration said no, they weren’t going to transfer sponsorship of my visa to the new company.
I was crushed, but I kept going. On to interviews two, three, four, five, and six, all of them saying yes, they’d love to hire me. And Immigration saying no to all of them.
My hope was completely gone by interview and rejection number three, although I kept going. Going on even when there’s no hope is my biggest strength. Or my biggest weakness—I’m not sure which.
This time though, this time I really believe it will happen. Perhaps because Pixio is the biggest company I’ve gotten an offer from yet—the biggest in the world actually, and there’s no way Immigration can say no to them. And perhaps because Paul is having another meeting with the immigration lawyers today. I couldn’t make it because of the interview, and they couldn’t reschedule. Okay, they haven’t had good news for me yet, but if it was bad, they’d have made sure I was there. And if it’s good, they’ll tell Paul. Even if it’s only neutral, that will still be a relief.
I can’t explain it, but it feels like events are finally going my way.
Of course, I never would have made it this far without Paul’s help. I’m not quite sure how I ended up as his pet project, and I’m trying very hard not to let his attention turn my head. I know his concern is impersonal, that he’s only helping me because Mark and January asked him to, but I can’t help the flutter of my heart every time I see him. He’s got the looks and presence of a great prince from an ancient saga, bold and determined as he leads a massive army against the invaders.
Normally I wouldn’t be this silly over a man, but I guess what I’ve been through the past few months has turned me inside out. And if I’m going to get giddy over someone, Paul is a good choice. With his striking cheekbones, plush lips, and intensely dark eyes to swoon about. Not to mention just how perfectly nice he is. How perfectly princely.
I walk right past the bus stop, heading toward the main road. I want to tell everyone the good news in person, and Paul is the person currently closest to me. Bastard Capital is about a twenty-minute walk from Pixio, and while the bus would technically get me there faster, I want to enjoy the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. My father says that a good long walk is one of the best ways to feel alive, and my father never gives bad advice.
He was the one who told me I should go to America and stay there. I’ve achieved the first part, and I’m doing my best to achieve the second. Family is everything to my father, which is why I took his advice so seriously. It wasn’t easy for him to tell me to do this, and I don’t want to let him down.
Thanks to Pixio, I won’t.
When I first arrived in the States, I thought everything would be perfect, that my life was on track. I finally had my H-1B and was about to work at one of the most exciting companies in Silicon Valley—Corvus Technologies. They were on the leading edge of intelligence and surveillance work and featured in the Disrupt Dispatch nearly every day.
Okay, the surveillance stuff gave me pause, but I figured I’d be helping catch criminals. A company like that would never spy on ordinary people. And I didn’t have much of a choice—Corvus was willing to sponsor my visa. It was my chance to make my parents proud.
At first everything was golden. I found some great roommates and became good friends with January. Corvus was… not exactly welcoming, but I was getting along well enough. I could see the next five years going just like that.
And then it all went wrong. Corvus put me on a new secret project, insisted that I move into the company housing, only use the company issued phone, and also limit all my personal interactions. Basically, my entire waking life would be owned by them.
It broke my heart to leave January and cut off contact—and it terrified me that Corvus demanded it—but I couldn’t say no because I needed that visa. And Corvus knew it too.
When I found out the real goal of the project was to illegally put spyware on everyone’s phones, I panicked, of course. I envisioned going to prison for a long, long time simply for working on the software. And not only was it illegal, it was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen here. I came to America to get away from this, and here I was, making it happen.
If my father knew what I was doing, considering what happened to his uncle, he would be horrified. But I couldn’t leave the company, and I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing. I also couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
So I sent some of the project information anonymously to January.
It was mostly an act of desperation. I had to tell someone, but I couldn’t expose myself. January would know I was the one who sent the files, but I’d be able to deny everything if it became public.
What January would do with the information didn’t really occur to me. I should have thought about it, but I was in too much of a panic. I had to do something so I could live with myself, but quitting my job and blowing the whistle weren’t options.
It all blew up in my face anyway. January designed a system to block Corvus’s spyware and then confronted the CEO himself, Arne Fuchs. When that happened, I was fired and tossed out of the building like so much trash.
Of course, there’s more to the story—there always is—but those are all the important parts. I’m grateful to January for rescuing me and stopping the spyware. But I’m also a tiny bit pissed at her because I’m about to lose my visa. I probably couldn’t have handled five years of Corvus, not with what I was working on, but…
I shut my eyes tight for a moment. This isn’t what I want to be thinking about right now. Hopefulness is so rare for me, I want to hold on to it as tightly as I can, not obsess over the past.
When I open my eyes, my mood is back to where it should be. Yes, my firing was awful, but things are getting fixed. It will all be fine.
My phone rings as I come to an intersection. Cars whiz past and exhaust blasts my face, but I don’t mind. I’m too happy to let it bring me down.
I fish my phone out of my purse and smile when I see who’s calling. January is going to be so excited to hear that I finally got this job. I want to tell her in person, but a phone
call will work too. We can go out and celebrate the end of all my legal troubles.
“Hey!” I say. “I was just about to call you. Are you at Mark’s office?”
If she’s already at Bastard Capital, then we can celebrate together. It’ll be perfect.
“No.” January’s tone isn’t as excited as mine. It isn’t excited at all. “I just saw the lawyers leave. I grabbed one of them and talked to her before she left.”
My feet slow as my heart races, and my palms go clammy. No. They don’t know about the Pixio offer yet. Whatever is happening, my news changes all of it. “What did they say?”
January draws in a long breath. “It’s not good. No matter what they try, USCIS just won’t budge.”
That’s not anything new. Immigration hasn’t budged on my case before. “But I got the job at Pixio. They told me everything would be taken care of.” I try to put some brightness in my voice, but it jumps past that into panic.
“The lawyers already know about that,” January says sadly.
Which tells me that Paul got me the job. I kind of suspected that, but I tried to put it out of my mind so I wouldn’t flub the interview. I’m a great coder and engineer, and I wanted Pixio to know that. I didn’t want a pity position.
My mouth opens, air rushing in as I try to breathe past the lump in my throat. Oh God, I’m not getting any position now.
“USCIS basically told them that the order for you to leave comes from the very top,” January says. I hear tears in her tone. “That nothing will be acceptable for your visa sponsorship.”
The hope I’ve had—that stupid, reckless, useless hope—is now completely gone, having popped like a balloon attacked by a tiger. I knew Corvus wasn’t going to let me stay. I just knew it, and still I let myself believe. What an idiot I was.
I want to sink down to the sidewalk and howl, but there’s no way I’m giving in to that weakness. My parents would die if they knew their daughter was crying on a sidewalk in America somewhere. After everything they sacrificed to get me here, I couldn’t embarrass them like that even if they can’t see me.
“Are they sure?” I’m pleased with how steady my voice is. It almost sounds like the news didn’t affect me at all.
“Yeah. I asked them over and over again, but they insisted.” January’s voice is cracking. “This is all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have done anything with the files you sent me.”
“Of course you should’ve,” I say automatically. “What they were doing was wrong and illegal.”
Except Corvus hasn’t really been punished for what they did. The program is shut down, but no one’s going to prison. The general public still has no idea the spyware was ever on their phones. I’m the one who pointed out their wrongdoing, and I’m the only one who’s going to be punished.
The lawyers are being paid to fight for me, and now they’re giving up. How am I supposed to keep fighting on my own? If USCIS rejects the Pixio offer…
They will. I suddenly know that they will, the same way I know gravity exists.
The lawyers know it too, and they don’t want to waste their time anymore. Maybe Paul should stop wasting his time too.
God, Paul already knows all about what the lawyers said. He’ll have to tell me, and I’ll have to pretend to be brave and stoic and meet my fate with my head held high. Right now that scenario seems worse than telling my parents. Paul’s been so kind, so helpful, and he didn’t even have to be. And I feel like I’ve just ruined it all.
Of course it isn’t my fault—it’s all Corvus’s fault—but that doesn’t make the stone of guilt in my chest any smaller.
“I’m on my way to the office,” I tell January. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. We can talk more then.”
She’s sniffling into the phone, which makes my own eyes sting. I blink the tears away because I can’t lose it on a public street. That will have to wait until I’m at home.
I’m currently staying rent-free in an apartment that Paul owns. I didn’t know he owned the building when I first moved in; I thought the owner was someone who owed Mark a favor. But after talking to the tenants, I realized exactly who my new landlord was. Well, it’s really a holding company that owns the building, but a quick Google search showed that it was part of Paul’s family holdings and that the same company owns a ton of real estate throughout the Bay Area.
I’m sure it was nothing to Paul to offer me one of the thousands of apartments he owns, but after being kicked out of Corvus with only the clothes on my back, it meant the world to me.
I suppose I’ll have to move back in with my parents once I’m home. I’ll be glad to see them again, to be close to them again, but they won’t be able to hide their disappointment. And I won’t be able to prevent being hurt by it.
“I’d love that, but Mark and I have to go,” January says sadly. “We have this fund-raiser thing in the City, and we can’t miss it. But I’ll stop by tonight. I’ll bring takeout.”
I want just January to come and not Mark, but I can’t think of a way to say that without being terribly rude. Commiserating with January sounds lovely, but to have Mark hovering over us, reminding me of how perfect January’s life is turning out, would be too painful. He’s a nice guy—scratch that, he’s not nice at all, but he adores January—but I just can’t handle it.
“Don’t worry about me. I think I’m going to call the lawyers myself, see if there’s anything more I can do. Maybe…”
I can’t even finish that. Defeat has settled over me so hard I can’t breathe. But I have to. I have to keep moving forward, toward the office and her and Paul.
“No, I can’t leave you alone,” she insists.
I won’t be alone. I’ll have Paul. I don’t know where that thought came from. He’s never once met me outside his office. Everything about him has been distant, polite, and professional.
Which is probably why I’m so fascinated by him. I’ve always wanted to touch whatever was just out of reach, and I never lost that urge even when I grew up.
“Honestly, I’ll be fine. I’m going to need some time…” I swallow the sob that tries to climb up my throat. “I’m going to need a little bit of time to process this.”
January sniffles, and I can hear her wiping her nose. “You’re taking this so much better than I am. Not that I’m giving up.”
“I’m not giving up either.” That’s a lie. Already I can feel the fight slipping out of me. The impossibility of all this is suddenly, sharply real to me. Who did I think I was, going up against Corvus? Even with power of the Bastards behind me, I’m no match for them. “But I think it’s time for me to be realistic too.”
There’s some rustling on the other end of the line, and I hear Mark’s deep tones although I can’t make out what he’s saying.
“We have to go,” January says. “I’ll call you later.”
“Sure. Have fun.”
I slide my phone back in my bag and force my feet to keep moving. I don’t know why I’m still heading to Bastard Capital since my big triumph is now a big bust and January won’t even be around, but I can’t think of anywhere else to go. I don’t want to be in the apartment that Paul’s given me as some favor to a friend. And I don’t want to be around strangers.
My father always said that putting off a difficult thing only ever made it worse. He’s right, but it’s hard for me to put into practice. If I were a better daughter, I’d be dialing my parents right now. Telling them I’ve failed and I’m coming home will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
But I’m not, so instead I’ll go tell Paul I failed. That he doesn’t need to be noble and help me out anymore. I’m clearly a lost cause.
Well, I won’t be that melodramatic. I’ll be polite, grateful, and distant. The same way he’s been with me this entire time. That way we can both part with some dignity.
And then I’ll go home and start to pack. I’ll call the lawyers and see what else can be done while I do it, because I’m not giving up yet.
But I’m also going to face reality. Finally.
Chapter Three
My mother is a force of nature.
Not in the flashy, she’s-a-typhoon kind of way. More in the power-of-eons-passing kind of way. Like the river that carved out the Grand Canyon. Slow, steady, and completely unstoppable.
“What a surprise,” I say as my mother steps into my office. She’s never gotten the hang of sarcasm, so she’ll take the comment literally.
My mother—Lillian Tsai—looks her age, which is sixty-two, but it’s a beautiful, well-kept sixty-two. Even when I was a kid, I never saw her without her hair done, her nails painted, and her face made up. When my dad died and she took command of the family holdings, she had to wear a mask of perfection in order to fight off scheming cousins. Over the years, she grew into that mask so well she practically is perfect.
I love my mother, but I’m also a little frightened of her.
My assistant hurries in behind her, holding a tea tray with a steaming pot, several delicacies, and china with my mother’s signature pattern. Mother travels with her own place settings. As soon as the tea tray hits the coffee table in my office, Avery hurries out again. She’s more than a little frightened of my mother.
“I know your sister already called you.” Mother sets her quilted Chanel handbag on a chair. She’s carried that bag for twenty years—Mother doesn’t buy anything new unless she absolutely needs it. She leaves the flashy purchases to new-money types.
“Actually, she already called my assistant.” I kiss her offered cheek. “Where’s Amelia?”
“I sent her to the hotel. I needed to speak with you before you proposed.”
I sigh, wishing I’d downed the entire bottle of whiskey before she got here. “Did you ever think of asking me if I wanted to marry her? Or if she wants to marry me?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s high time you took over the family holdings, and you’ll need a bride to help you with that. You won’t want to deal with all the charitable work and socializing on your own.”
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