Love, Technically (11 page)

About two hours into it, he stopped and stretched. He’d sketched out the general flow of how the control software would work, but every muscle in his body ached from hunching over his laptop while sitting on a hardwood floor. Not one of his brighter moments, but his mind was clear and focused, and he knew he could make this work. Remaining as LightWave’s CEO was no longer viable. His final bit of typing was to draft his resignation letter.

…

The hours on the bus gave Michelle plenty of time to ponder her departure. Something had made her tell Casey she was leaving LightWave, and she didn’t know if it was her desire to go to college or her need to make a clean break from Sark. She alternated between the terror of leaving job security behind to go to college and sadness at not being near Sark.

With closed eyes, she visualized returning to work and spending the next few months or years in the position. Her stomach cramped. And then she imagined walking into a lecture hall and taking notes. A smile bloomed on her face. Maybe she could join a sorority. She outright laughed at that idea. The only reason a sorority would take her was because she could buy booze.

The farther the bus took her from Chicago, the more the idea of quitting and going to school resonated in her mind. Sure, she wasn’t clear on most of the details—okay,
any
of the details—but she’d figure it out. What were the alternatives? After what she’d said to Casey about leaving, she couldn’t act like it had never been said, and she didn’t want to spend the next few years pretending to like working with Sydney or that she didn’t have romantic feelings for Sark.

Around eight o’clock, the bus pulled up to the convenience store that doubled as a bus station. Her father’s car was parked nearby with the engine running. He and Mom were staying warm inside while waiting for her. She shuffled off the bus and retrieved her bag.

“Micky! Over here, Micky,” her father shouted, as if she could miss him in the tiny parking lot that held no more than ten cars.

She lugged her bag over and allowed herself to be pulled into Dad’s arms for a warm, tight hug. “I’ve missed you. Thanks for picking me up.” Her father’s body heat seeped through her jacket, warming her and reminding her how much she’d missed her folks.

“Of course. Mom’s in the car, dying to see you. Go on in.” Her mother had never liked the cold and still talked fondly of her honeymoon to Florida. Much as she wanted to see Michelle, she’d wait in the heated car.

“Hi, Mom,” she said, getting into the car and leaning forward through the gap in the front seat to kiss her mother’s cheek.

“Hi, Mick. I’m glad you decided to come home.”

“Me too,” she said, meaning it. “What’s the news around here?” She settled back against the seat while her father drove home through the cold and her mother shared the gossip of nearly everyone in town. They wanted to hear about her, but she wasn’t ready to talk yet. She needed more time to make her plans and finalize the decision.

…

“What is the matter with you, Noah?” his mother asked for the third time as she tried to force more green beans on his plate.

“I’m fine,” he muttered and chewed a mouthful of turkey, not really tasting it.

“Noah, we’re your parents. We can tell when something is bothering you.” She spoke quietly, obviously trying not to attract the attention of the aunts, uncles, and cousins who sat nearby shoveling in food. “Is it the business?”

He met his mother’s gaze, but looked at his dad when he answered. “Yes.”

“Do you need money?” his dad asked.

He nearly coughed up his food. “No, I’m good.” His parents were solidly professional middle class and did fine, but his shares in LightWave put him well above their tax bracket. He’d never imagined a world in which he’d be the one who could send his parents on fancy cruises, not that they’d ever accept the offer.

“What’s wrong, then?” Mom asked.

He frowned at his plate. “There’s a woman…and I have an idea for the company, but mostly it’s Michelle.” He broke off, hearing his muck of an explanation.

His mother looked almost frightened at his lapse into incoherence. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You fell in love.”

His head snapped up. “No. Well…yes. Maybe. I’ve only known her a little while.”

“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” she said. “Where is she? Call her and invite her for dessert.”

He smiled wryly. “I wish. For one, she’s in Iowa with her family, and two, I don’t think she’d come. She thinks I lied to her about being the CEO.”

“Did you?” Dad asked.

“No. Well, for one night, but then I told her, but she didn’t get my note, and now she thinks I’m untrustworthy.” His garbled stream of words caught the attention of one of his teenage cousins.

“You’re totally trustworthy, Noah,” she called from down the table.

“Thanks.” He winked at her.

“Go to Iowa,” his mother said. She turned to his dad. “He should go to Iowa, right?”

His father nodded, not that he’d expected anything different. His parents had always operated on one identical wavelength. “Crash their Thanksgiving? And I don’t have a bus ticket. It’s a long drive.” His excuses sounded weak when spoken out loud.

“Noah,” his mother said, leaning her elbows on the table. “You’re a wealthy man. Get on a plane. Heck, charter a plane. Rent a car. I don’t know, but if you like this girl, you go after her.”

…

It turned out there were no flights, chartered or otherwise, to Iowa on Thanksgiving evening, even for a billionaire. He remembered Michelle saying Cedar Rapids was the closest airport, though it was still more than an hour’s drive to her house. He booked a seat on the first flight out Friday morning. His parents drove him to the airport and gave him huge hugs of support.

“Bring her back, Noah.” Failure never even occurred to them.

It occurred to him, though. The whole fifty-eight-minute flight to Iowa was spent planning what he’d say and vowing he wouldn’t leave until she agreed to date him again.

He could lead off with the work angle. He’d need an employee or two. Other software developers would be necessary, but he needed someone else as well. Someone who could keep everyone on track and act as an assistant, do the important stuff like pay bills, order supplies, and help develop corporate strategy for the company. His current admin would be perfect for the job, but she had kids in private school. He couldn’t ask her to jump ship to a risky start-up. Only one other person came to mind, and it was Michelle.

Maybe he could convince her to join him. It would be perfect. They could date again, because there would be no question of favoritism if she was dating him from the start. The only question he had was whether to lead with the job offer or the relationship angle. He decided on job. If she accepted it, he’d have ample opportunity to wear her down and get back into her good graces. He didn’t know how to rebuild her trust in him, but he wanted the opportunity to try.

The second the plane landed, he stretched, pulled out his phone, and started doing a little Internet sleuthing to find the listing for Michelle’s family’s number in Minsker. It didn’t take long. There was only one Kolson listed for Minsker. After a few rings, a woman’s voice answered, sounding so much like Michelle, his heart leaped into his throat.

“She’s at Walmart?” he asked again to confirm he’d heard correctly. His heart sunk way down. “She went shopping?”

“No. She’s working.”

What? It was worse than he’d imagined. Back in Minsker one day, and she’d already made the decision to quit the city and work at Walmart. He was bewildered she’d given up. How could she have left Chicago and given up on her dreams? She was doing everything she’d said she feared. He had to go out there. Now. And talk some sense into her.

“May I take a message? Who is calling, please?”

He started to leave his name, but panicked and hung up after saying he’d call again later. What was he going to say to her parents? Begging needed to be done in person.

After shuffling off the plane, he exited the airport, wondering how to get to Michelle’s home. He made his way over to what was marked as a taxi line, but there were no yellow cabs to be seen. After flagging down an airport employee, he despaired of finding one.

“Boy, you want a taxi? It’s the day after Thanksgiving. Most folks are with their families. There will be one around, but it may take a while.”

Welcome to Iowa. Now what?

A voice called from behind him. “You need a ride? Where you headed?”

He turned to see an older couple who’d been on his flight.

“Minsker.” He swallowed back his mother’s childhood warnings about hitchhiking. This wasn’t the big city. Probably everyone around here hitched rides from one another. He could almost hear Michelle’s soft laughter at his inaccurate small-town theories. “Is that on your route?”

“Only the next town over,” the man said. “Grab your bag.”

He followed the couple out to their blue Ford sedan parked in the overnight lot. It had dusted snow, and he helped brush the car clean. He considered texting his parents to let them know he’d landed and was accepting a ride from strangers. For a wild moment he imagined they were kidnappers who’d followed him from Chicago with the intent to ransom him for a lot of money. He knew he was being ridiculous, though the LightWave security consultants would be having fits if they knew he’d bummed a ride with strangers.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Noah.” He held out his hand for a firm shake.

“I’m Roberta and this is my husband, Gene,” the woman said from the front seat. “We were visiting our daughter in Chicago for Thanksgiving. She has young children and a newborn. We couldn’t stay with her all weekend, so we’re back here today.” He could tell she would have preferred to spend the weekend with her daughter.

Roberta pulled a floppy photo album out of her purse and handed it back to him. He flipped through it, admiring her grandchildren.

“What brings you to Iowa the day after Thanksgiving?” Gene asked.

“Uh,” he said, not sure what to tell them. But Gene and Roberta looked like they had a long, happy marriage. Maybe they’d have some advice. “I’m here for a girl.”

Roberta whirled around in her seat so fast, he feared she got rug burn from the seat belt. “A girl? This sounds interesting. We have an hour drive ahead. Start sharing.”

“Well, I guess I should start with my name.” He’d learned his lesson about introducing himself as anything other than his real name. The whole thing with Michelle had hammered that home. “My whole name. I’m Noah Frellish.” It got no reaction from the older couple. “I’m the CEO of LightWave Technologies.” Still no visible reaction.

“That’s nice, dear. Your mother must be proud. Go on.”

He smiled, thinking he could get used to Roberta’s indifference to his success. “Well, this past fall, I met a girl. At my company. She didn’t know I was the CEO, and I didn’t tell her at first.”

“Uh-oh. Big trouble,” Roberta said.

Gene
tsked
and shook his head, swerving the car a tad. Sark halted his tale while Roberta turned to her husband to do a little backseat driving. When she was again confident in her husband’s ability to steer the car, she turned back to him.

“You should never lie to a woman.”

“I know. I feel terrible. And I didn’t mean to lie. I wrote her a note to tell her who I was, but she misunderstood it. I should have told her sooner.”

“You must have had a good reason,” Roberta said sympathetically.

“Yes.” He leaned forward as much as the seat belt would let him. “After the company went public, a few women asked me on dates. It turned out they were only interested because, well…” He stopped, not wanting to change Roberta’s and Gene’s impression of him. When he realized he was making the same assumptions about them he’d made about Michelle, he pressed forward. “They were interested because I have a lot of money,” he finished.

Gene laughed. “You have a lot of money and you were sitting in the last row of coach near us and didn’t even have a driver meet you.”

He flushed and stammered out excuses when Gene laughed again. “Don’t get your boxers in a twist, son. I’m messing with you.”

“Oh. Uh, anyway, she dumped me when she found out who I was.”

“Good for her,” Roberta said.

“But I miss her and I want to earn her trust again. How do I do that?”

The older couple glanced at each other and snorted in unison. “Time,” Gene said. “It takes time and hard work to rebuild trust. If she’s not willing to give it to you, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Oh.” He slumped back against the cloth seat and stared out the window at the hilly landscape. It was tree after tree leading to farms, broken up by the occasional fast food joint. “The worst part is I think she left Chicago and is back here working at the Walmart.”

“The Walmart near Minsker?”

“Probably. How many Walmarts could there be?”

“Why, that’s right near us. Do you think she’s there now?”

“Yes, she is. Why?”

“Well, we can take you to her.” Roberta swiveled to her husband. “Can’t we, Gene? This would be exciting. We’d be helping young love.”

Gene grunted. “Ten minutes farther from town. We’d be missing more of the college ball games.”

“Oh, you can watch football from the electronics department at the store. I’m sure they’ll have it turned to the games.”

Gene looked at him through the rearview mirror. “Is that what you want, son? Do you want us to take you to Walmart to get your girl?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? What kind of attitude is that? That’s what’s wrong with your generation. What’s the matter? Do you need to take a poll first? You flew all the way out here on a holiday and now you
guess
you want to go get her?”

Sark could only laugh in shock at Gene’s bluntness. “I thought I’d go to her house first and meet her parents, but you’re right. Take me to Walmart!”

…

Michelle bent to make some semblance of order to the Lego boxes on the shelves. When she’d accepted an offer to work on Black Friday, she hadn’t imagined the physical nature of the job. She’d been up since three in the morning. Working since five, and the shoppers showed no sign of losing their enthusiasm for a good deal.