For Money or Love

by Heather Blackmore

Minutes later, Jess’s door flew open, and she strode down the hall and out of the building.

  The abrupt departure left TJ to wonder what had transpired and whether it had anything to do with her earlier meeting with Gary.

  At nearly four o’clock, Jess returned and stopped by TJ’s desk. “Do you have a minute?”

  TJ rose, followed Jess into her office, and closed the door.

  Jess looked upset, as if she wanted to be anywhere but here, having this conversation.

  On the edge of her chair, TJ asked, “What’s wrong?”

  In a tremulous voice, Jess said, “I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable at the office. I wish you’d have spoken with me about it first, but I understand it’s probably difficult at this point.”

  “What are you talking about?” TJ’s concern escalated.

  “You wanting to change departments. If I came across too aggressively or you felt I was harassing you in any way, I’m so sorry. I really thought we were on the same page, but I’m obviously new at this and totally misread things.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Gary told me you don’t want to work with me anymore.”

  TJ was stunned. That wasn’t even close to accurate. “I can tell Gary didn’t play Telephone well as a child, because that isn’t remotely what I said to him.”

  Jess waved her away. “I didn’t mean to put you on the defensive. You feel how you feel. Rest assured, we’ll have you report to Brooke or someone else as soon as possible.” She stood to signal that the conversation was over.

  TJ wouldn’t be so easily dismissed. “Jess, I don’t know what Gary told you. I approached him this morning and asked to be given access to the investment records and managers because my assignment is to write a business case study on what differentiates Magnate from its competitors. To me, that means using the single most important metric in the industry: investment returns.”

  Jess was unmoved.

  “Please sit down. You’re making me nervous.” When Jess didn’t sit, TJ tried again. “Please.” Jess reluctantly sat, and TJ continued. “It’s not to say there aren’t other important aspects of the business, aspects it’s also clearly succeeding at, such as all you’re accomplishing on the marketing front. But the focus of my internship is clear. I’m here to write a case study on what differentiates Magnate from the rest of the players. I haven’t seen a single analyst opinion or been allowed to view the investments underlying the client accounts. I didn’t ask to be reassigned away from you so much as I asked to be assigned to whoever can help me achieve my goal.”

  It took Jess several moments to digest this information. “Your graduate program sets the focus of your internship, not the business you intern at?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Magnate has no discretion when it comes to what you’ll learn here?”

  “All the businesses that agreed to sponsor the inaugural class have to adhere to the same general curriculum so it’s fair to all students. Not every student is interning at an investment firm, for example, but each business excels at something in particular. The interns are required to identify it and document that factor extensively.”

  “Then why did you tell Gary you needed to transfer out of marketing regardless of whether he agreed to give you access to the investment files?”

  “Because I…” She stopped and took a deep breath. The office seemed an inappropriate venue in which to be admitting this. Though no one but Jess could hear, TJ lowered her voice. “I was hoping to see you again. In a non-professional capacity.”

  It was Jess’s turn to be confused, given her creased brow and cocked head.

  “Jess, if we continue to see each other, any paper I turn in related to Magnate’s marketing could be seen as being unduly influenced or possibly exclusively written by you. Even if we don’t, anyone on Muriel’s yacht could decide to call into question whether the material I turn in is completely my own. The risk is negligible, but my actions need to engender confidence in your father’s MBA program, not undermine it. So, yes, I asked Gary if I could report to someone else.”

  Jess blinked the way a seventies computer console might as it processed information. “You want to see me outside of work?”

  If not for the change that overcame Jess’s expression—like a child in time-out who’d just been offered a cookie—TJ might have been irritated to have to repeat herself. But Jess looked so completely adorable, TJ had to smile. “If you’re amenable.”

  Jess nodded, her eyes shy and hopeful. “A date?”

  “Yes.” TJ felt her face fall. “No.”

  “No?” Jess asked, her expression mirroring TJ’s.

  “Oh, Jess. I don’t know. It wouldn’t—couldn’t be anything like you’re used to.”

  “That might be the point.”

  “The thing is, this is going to sound incredibly miserly, but can we set a budget? You have so much, and I…I can’t afford the kinds of—”

  “Say no more. I understand. Really, I do.” Her eyes misted.

  TJ grew worried. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I know I shouldn’t be concerned by our differences, but I am.”

  “I know, and I’m not offended. You caught me by surprise is all. In a good way. We’re going to rock this town without so much as an ATM card in our pockets.”

  “Yeah?” TJ asked hopefully.

  “Leave it to me.”

  TJ smiled. “You’re the boss.”

  “Glad you recognize your place,” Jess said with a wink. “Now that that’s settled, here’s the thing. Gary’s not budging. You’re to stick with marketing even if you were to report to someone else. He’s concerned your report could compromise our market edge.” She held up a palm to stop TJ’s protest. “I don’t agree with him. It runs contrary to our role as mentor, trying to help you succeed. And none of the businesses would underwrite the internships if their intellectual property were at risk. It would undermine the program.”

  Pulling out a sticky note, Jess wrote two lines and handed it to TJ, pointing as she spoke. “This is the network folder where the investment program and client database reside. And this is a password. Use Gary’s email as the login. If you can’t get in, swap a two for the one, then try a three, etcetera. When the system forces him to change his password, he appends it with a new number and then starts over once the system no longer remembers the earliest one.”

  “I don’t want to run afoul of the end-user license,” TJ said.

  “Of course you don’t. But Magnate owns the software outright. It’s our proprietary system.”

  “Don’t you have a login?”

  “No. My job’s to bring people to the firm, not manage their investments. That’s for the associates and analysts. I only know Gary’s because he uses the name of his first dog as his password for everything.” Jess rolled her eyes.

  TJ hesitantly took the paper. “Are you sure?”

  “TJ, until today, I had no idea you had a specific assignment. I thought you’d decided to write your case study on marketing. Gary balked when I told him we should transfer you to the investment team like you wanted, so please don’t share with anyone that I’ve given you file access. I have no idea how helpful our database will be to you without someone to train you on it, but hopefully you’ll find something you can use.”

  *

  Once Jess turned onto Mountain Avenue, TJ asked, “We’re going to GU?” Griffin University was where she was studying for her degree.

  Jess cast TJ a sideways glance. “We are.”

  “Are we here to study?”

  “In a matter of speaking.”

  At the guard kiosk, Jess handed over her driver’s license and a GU ID card.

  “You’re an alum?” TJ asked.

  With a wink, Jess said, “No. Family discount.”

  “Ah.” Given that one of the university’s graduate programs was in Derrick Spaulding’s name, TJ understood the perk. In all likelihood, as a member of a family that had donated
millions to the university, Jess had access to every nook and cranny of its hallowed grounds and halls.

  “Don’t go thinking you know what you’re in for, because I assure you, you don’t.” Jess stuffed her identification cards back into her purse and accelerated.

  “I’m with you. Surprises are the norm.”

  Jess parked in one of the staff lots at the Performing Arts section of campus. She pulled an insulated carrier from the trunk and headed up the walking path. “Follow me.”

  Winded after climbing the many steps to the top of the hill, they stopped and caught their breath. “Hear that?” Jess asked as their breathing returned to normal.

  “Piano?”

  “Eine kleine Nachtmusik.” Jess paused to listen. “Not that piece specifically, but that’s what we’re here for: a little night music. Come on.” Jess headed for a set of small cabin-size buildings that rested on the path’s decline. She stopped at a picnic table several yards from the first cabin. “Have you been here?” At TJ’s head shake, Jess said, “These are piano practice rooms. Anyone can come here to play.” She waved TJ over to sit next to her. “The soundproofing’s good but far from perfect. If you’re in a room, you can’t hear much on the outside. But if you’re outside, you can get a flavor for the musician. Occasionally, one will invite me in to listen.”

  The person in the room closest was practicing scales. Jess started down the path and stopped outside the second cabin. No sound emanated from its walls, and the darkened skylight in the angled roof indicated it was empty.

  As they made their way still lower, TJ began to hear another piano. It was subtle, as if a sea of pillows surrounded the instrument. The pianist was well into whatever song it was, as far as TJ could tell. Jess’s eyes grew wide, and she covered her mouth before excitedly pointing to TJ to sit on the picnic-table bench outside the small building.

  The music was magnificent. TJ couldn’t imagine that a student’s hands were bringing the piece to life. Surely this had to be some sort of maestro? TJ was familiar with the music but didn’t know its title or composer.

  When the piece concluded, silence again filled the night sky except for faint notes echoing from the other piano rooms. “That was sublime,” TJ said, not sure why she whispered. With whatever insulation was built into the rooms, it seemed no one but Jess might hear her for miles.

  “Liebestraum by Franz Liszt. Gorgeous.”

  “Do you know who’s playing?” TJ asked.

  Jess shook her head. “I rarely do. We got very lucky tonight. It’s a crapshoot. But that’s part of what makes it unique and satisfying. Listening to someone play such a beautiful piece so gloriously is wonderful, but I also enjoy hearing various skill levels. There’s something about the process I find intriguing. Someone is always coming to it fresh, hoping to play like that one day. And I love the optimism inherent in that, the belief that someday, they will.” Jess’s eyes again widened and she pantomimed her request for silence. She whispered in TJ’s ear. “Bach’s Prelude in C Major.” She put her hand over her chest and closed her eyes.

  The wishful melody combined with the rise and fall of Jess’s chest reminded TJ of the preciousness of life. This was a moment and a woman she wouldn’t soon forget.

  Once the song ended, Jess flipped her legs over the bench seat and rose from the table. “Come on,” she said as she strapped the bulky bag over her shoulder and led TJ down a different footpath. “Time to work for your dinner.”

  Jess reached for TJ’s hand and held it as they walked across campus.

  “You seem surprisingly comfortable with the whole holding-hands-with-a-girl thing,” TJ said.

  Smiling, Jess said, “I’m comfortable with you.”

  With their arms swinging back and forth with each step, TJ reveled in the simplicity of Jess’s statement. There was no drama, which was odd considering the class differential between them. Shouldn’t there be drama? She shook her head in mystification and mirrored Jess’s smile. Oddly, she was comfortable too.

  “I’ve never walked through this part of campus,” TJ said. “I didn’t know any of this existed.”

  “Then I’ve a good chance of surprising you.” Jess pulled open a heavy door. TJ could immediately hear the hustle and bustle of activity inside. A sharp crack to her left caught her attention, and she immediately recognized the sound. The nearby pool tables confirmed her suspicion. Several dartboards lined the walls and most were being used. They were in the corner of a warehouse-size room. Ping-Pong, foosball, and indoor shuffleboard tables rounded out the gaming activity TJ could see. She followed Jess to a counter serviced by a student.

  Jess slid her GU ID card to the clerk and asked for darts. They were directed to one of two open dart lanes, where Jess promptly set down her carrier at a round bar table. “We’ll start here, and if you can’t stand the heat, we can move on to a different game. Once you beg for mercy, we’ll grab dinner.”

  At the line, Jess threw her first set of darts. The first two landed just outside the outer bull’s-eye, and the last landed inside the triple ring. She pulled them from the board and handed them to TJ with a wink. “Good luck, tiger.”

  Competitive energy surged through TJ as she took the proffered weapons, though she hadn’t played in years. Her first two throws hit the flat-tire area next to the numbers. Her final throw struck just inside the double ring. As she handed the darts to Jess, she asked, “How do you know about this place?”

  “As you know, my dad’s a GU grad. He loves the campus. I can’t tell you how many times he’s given me the grand tour.” Jess let fly three zingers. Two outer bull’s-eyes and a small pie later, it was TJ’s turn. While TJ took hers, Jess said, “I can be anonymous here. Students come to the game room to burn off steam and socialize. It’s not really a pick-up joint, and since there’s a large grad-student population here, no one questions my age. Or my bank-account balance.”

  Appalled at her showing, TJ quickly plucked the darts from the board and relinquished them to Jess. She took small consolation that she hadn’t yet thrown wildly enough to hit the wall. She was outmatched. “Do they usually?”

  “My most popular attribute is my wealth. Type Jessica Spaulding into any browser address bar, and you’ll see the search-term suggestions append my name with the words wealth, assets, or rich, indicating what people typically search for.” Jess hit the bull’s-eye and grinned. “Here I’m just Jess.” Another two small pies later and TJ again took the darts.

  “Well, Just Jess, I only have one thing to say to that.” To TJ’s chagrin, her next dart hit the wall. “Let’s not keep score.”

  *

  “Almost there,” Jess said as they strolled hand in hand to the soccer field. Though the sky was bright, it wasn’t until they passed the lower dormitories that the grounds opened up like an Ansel Adams photograph. The moon was nearly full, a one-eyed sentry that seemed twice its normal size as it hung above the Pacific Ocean and illuminated the grassy hill below.

  TJ stopped, mesmerized. “No wonder you come here.”

  “Not too shabby, is it?” Jess tugged TJ’s hand. “Come on. It’s just as beautiful from over here.” Jess led them to the field before setting down the insulated bag. She withdrew a blanket from an outside mesh pocket and fanned it out for them to sit on. Then she removed two covered containers and handed one to TJ along with utensils. A half bottle of champagne was next, and Jess set up a small stand designed to steadily hold two flutes on uneven ground. With a pop, the bottle opened and Jess poured.

  “This is where most of my budget went,” she said as she handed TJ a glass. “Life’s too short for bad champagne. Or plasticware.” Raising her glass, she said, “Thanks for joining me tonight.”

  “Thanks for inviting me. I’ll never think of GU the same way.” They clinked rims and sipped.

  Jess removed the lid on her container and nodded to TJ’s food. “Mixed greens with figs and a raspberry vinaigrette, sesame-crusted mahi-mahi with toasted coconut, garlic-ginger green
beans. You’ll notice it’s a fairly light dinner because we’re saving room for dessert, my favorite part of any meal.” She wagged her eyebrows and took a bite of salad.

  TJ surveyed the contents of her bowl and slid Jess a wary gaze. “This isn’t exactly Swanson’s.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but don’t give me that look. I’ll have you know these are all leftovers. Nothing here was made specifically for our date, so I’m not counting it against my budget. And the flutes will return to my bar.”

  “These leftovers are nicer than anything you can get at Zelda’s.”

  Jess set her hand on TJ’s forearm. “TJ, at Donatello’s, you rightfully chastised me for not appreciating the experience. Don’t make my mistake. Look around us. Take in that view. Enjoy this wonderfully warm weather and the smell of the grass. Listen. Hear that? Birds. Crickets. Laughter. Savor each bite of this meal. And most importantly,” she lightly brushed her lips against TJ’s, “be in this moment with me.”

  TJ blinked. Jess was right. She was in a glorious field on a gorgeous night with a beautiful woman who had painstakingly adhered to her request that they not spend an outrageous sum. It was clear Jess had given their date much consideration. Did it matter that what constituted a typical or leftover meal differed between them? “I’m here now.” She leaned forward and kissed Jess. “Thanks for the reminder.” Taking Jess’s hand, she kissed her palm and smiled. “And for all this.”

  They ate in companionable silence for several minutes.

  “How often do you come here?” TJ asked.

  “Not very. Sometimes when I need to reconnect with my father. It’s indirect, but it works. He loves this school and what it represents.”

  “Represents?”

  “A chance for students with a strong work ethic and a philanthropic sensibility to excel without regard to their socioeconomic status. Can you tell I’ve heard that line before? My father wasn’t the strongest academically, so his scholarship opportunities were limited. He came from a working-class family and had trouble making ends meet during college because he was working full-time. At GU, he found educators who believed students learned in different ways and didn’t fault him for not maintaining a 4.0 GPA.”