Single Sashimi (25 page)

He bounced her upward until she was more upright, and she finally was able to straighten her legs and stand. Only then did she notice the pounding pressure of blood in her ears. Her jacket had ridden up and cold air tickled her exposed waist. Her shoulders hunched from where she grabbed at him, and the scent of his cologne mingled faintly with woodsmoke from his jacket.

She wanted to kiss him.

How cheesy. She wasn’t in a chick flick, and she wasn’t as sweet and cutesy a heroine as Sandra Bullock or Anne Hathaway.

It didn’t make her want to kiss him any less.

Esme. Esme liked him. He seemed to like Esme—had taken her to the Christmas party. Esme, her
friend
.

“No.”

That sounded like her voice. Was she nuts? The man kissed like Casanova!

“No.”

There it was again. Someone was controlling her vocal chords, and it wasn’t her brain, because that was twisting like a psychedelic kaleidoscope.

“I can’t. I’m too busy. You’re…
you
. Esme. This isn’t a smart…
thing
.”

“What? Thing? Eloquent, Venus.”

Considering he was still holding onto her tightly, her objections sounded rather stupid. But thoughts of Esme cooled her heated brain rather quickly. She was going to be nice for a change.

Also, even though his embrace warmed her better than a hot shower, it felt too strange. She’d gotten used to keeping aloof from men, striving to be more professional, less emotional, less feminine. She focused on nothing else but her own company, to set all else aside until she had it.

This was just too weird a…thing. She really had no better word for it. And her entire body screamed with fear.

He let her go. She immediately missed his warmth as cold air refroze the water in her clothes. And a vast sea, still and awful, iced over in her heart.

She couldn’t see his face, but she wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. She turned and started walking.

“Venus.”

She kept walking.

“Venus.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He sighed. “Venus, you’re going the wrong way.”

V
enus picked at her salad and considered flinging a radish across the table.

She was picking at it because Mom had asked her out to lunch, but now that they were at the restaurant, neither of them knew quite what to say to each other. She wanted to fling food, because despite Venus’s attempts at small talk, Mom only answered in monosyllables, and she had a childish impulse to get her mother to say something, anything.

Venus hadn’t talked to her mother in over a month—since driving her home from Grandma’s Christmas party. She’d seen her at the family New Year’s party, but they’d avoided each other successfully.

Well, what could she say? “Gee, Mom, you’re looking better since you were sloshed and embarrassing at Grandma’s party”?

“Venus, I’m sorry.”

At first she didn’t realize Mom had spoken, until she reasoned that even in her daydreams, Mom never apologized. She glanced up, but Mom wasn’t looking at her; instead she poked at her pasta bowl.

Venus had to say something. The silence was going to stretch too long and then her mom would either get mad or start crying. “Uh…about what?”

“I’m sorry about the Christmas party.” Mom spoke to her linguine.

“Oh. Uh…thanks. I mean, that’s okay.” What was wrong with her? Besides which, it wasn’t okay. Who knows what kind of damage the whole fiasco did for Venus’s reputation, maybe even Grandma’s reputation? The memory of the night smoldered in her chest like lava rocks.

She ought to forgive and forget. She ought to honor her mother. The thoughts were only sprinkling drops that sizzled away on the coals.

Mom licked her lips. “I heard Yardley deliberately point me out after I slapped Arnold.”

“You heard that?”

Mom straightened in her ladder back chair. “I was tipsy, not deaf.”

Venus fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Besides which, Yardley spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.” She blinked a few times, then licked her lip again. “Why does he dislike you so much?”

Venus looked down at her salad. “I quit his company, Mom.”

“That usually doesn’t make people so malicious.”

“Yardley doesn’t like that I’m setting up a game development company. Rivalry and all that.”

“Quite a bitter rival,” Mom said dryly. “Did you steal something from him?”

“What? No!”

Mom shrugged. “Just wondering. Did he steal something from you?”

The question came at her so fast, she didn’t have time to force out a suitable denial that wouldn’t be an outright lie. “Uh…”

“Ah.” Mom’s eyes gleamed. “I thought so. Your super secret software program, right?”

“It’s a gaming development tool.”

“So, something he’d be very interested in.”

It wasn’t a question, so Venus didn’t answer.

Mom swirled a shrimp and some noodles on her fork. “I wouldn’t worry, dear. Don’t underestimate how much power your grandmother has.”

Venus didn’t like playing this social-business game. Why couldn’t things be more straightforward?

“And don’t underestimate Drake’s parents either.” Mom took a bite. “He seemed rather interested in you.”

Venus set down her fork with a clatter. “He’s my boss, Mom.”

Her mother shrugged and chewed, and her innocent look said,
You can say what you like, but I know you have the hots for him
.

Venus hated when she did that. She sighed, breathing in pungent oregano and savory cheese from the kitchen. Another reason to pick at her salad—she had wanted lasagna but ordered the healthier option without even opening the menu, so she wouldn’t be tempted. Her skirt waistband cut into her stomach when she sat down—too many Reese’s peanut butter cups recently. Stupid Drake.

Why not date him?
the insidious voice whispered.

No. Esme liked him, for one, and she wanted to focus on her company. Business relationships were easier than personal ones. Look at how well she did with her mom, with Grandma. It was too complicated, and she didn’t want complicated.

That was why she had chosen to live with her dad when her parents divorced. He didn’t show affection very much, but that also meant he didn’t fly off the handle at ridiculous things or betray her with selfish neglect when she wasn’t expecting it, like her mother did. Her relationship with her dad was simplistic—he was happy when she succeeded and unhappy when she didn’t. Venus could understand him better than she could understand her volatile mother.

Mom reached for her water glass. “Are you still working with your youth group?”

“Yes.”

“Do you…” Mom regarded her speculatively. “Do you like it?”

“Actually…yeah, Mom.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have pictured you enjoying working with teenagers.”

“I wouldn’t have either. But…they grew on me.” They made her laugh. They made her feel young. They made her so proud; they made her want to gather them to her and protect them exactly like a mother bird and her chicks. “Originally it was because of Gerry, but now I’m really glad she required it.”

“I don’t understand. It was for work?”

“I never told you? Gerry wanted us to connect with our user demographics better.”

“Did it work?”

“Well, we just got a really positive report from our testers on the new version. Apparently the fact that everyone’s been working with kids outside of work has helped quite a bit.”

“That’s marvelous.”

“In fact, I have a presentation next week to a major investor.”

“You always hated those.”

Venus grimaced. She had no problem sitting at a meeting table with other people, but standing in front of them made her nervous.

Mom sipped her water. “It’s because you were overweight for so many years. You don’t like being the center of attention.”

Why did she always have to bring that up? “We are not discussing that, Mother.”

Mom pursed her lips but didn’t pursue it. “Why don’t you just have Drake do it?”

“He’s driving his mother to Oregon for some funeral.”

“Driving? Isn’t it a long way?”

“His mom refuses to fly, and his dad’s out of the country on business, so Drake volunteered.” The timing couldn’t be worse. Gerry was making only part of the presentation—the technical side was all Venus.

Mom gave a smile. “It says something about his character that he’d drive her himself rather than asking an uncle or somebody to do it.”

“There is no one else who can do it.” Venus thought Drake was nice to drive his mom, but she pitched her answer to squelch any of Mom’s wayward romantic hopes. No telling what embarrassing things Mom would do if she thought there was a chance for something more.

Mom gave her another innocent look. Venus glowered at her.

Mom’s eyes fell back to her food. Her voice was so soft, Venus almost didn’t hear her. “You know I only want you to be well-provided for and cared for, right? I don’t want to worry about you.”

Venus’s voice was soft too. “I know, Mom.” Her mom’s overtures lately—more than she’d ever done before—pleased Venus, although she didn’t expect her to drop all her self-centeredness and turn into June Cleaver. And Venus was starting to learn how to respond to her with more love and grace.

A bustle at the door made her glance up as a waiter ushered in a couple to a table. A foot-long spike stabbed into the base of her stomach.

Drake, with Esme’s pink-tipped nails wrapped around his arm.

The CTO candidate didn’t look any better the third time she read his resume, so why was she bothering?

She knew perfectly well why—to stave off the feeling of drowning every time she looked at the PowerPoint presentation.

Well, not
drowning,
exactly She refused to be beaten by a stupid presentation. But she was doing something that certainly needed to be done—looking for her replacement here at Bananaville—so it wasn’t avoidance or procrastination, per se. Not really.

One candidate looked promising. She studied his resume again, as if that would make more experience somehow appear between the lines. Well, might as well call to set up an interview.

Ew, her phone hadn’t been cleaned in days. She fumbled in her desk drawer for her purse, but pulled out her computer case instead. She hoped she’d have time later today to work on it. She set the case beside her desk, reached in for her purse, and grabbed a wipe-up. She even scrubbed between the buttons. And the underside. And the cord.

She called. “Hello, this is Venus Chau. I saw your resume—”

“Oh, no.”

She blinked before answering. “Excuse me?”

“Not another interview. They’re so tedious.”

Did he really say what she thought he said? “I’m calling about a job—”

“I really can’t do another job interview. They take up so much time.”

Venus glared at her computer screen, closed his resume file, and emptied it into the recycling bin. “Since you’re not interested—”

“Oh, I am. Interested.” He yawned as he said the word, so Venus was guessing that’s what he said. “But you’ll have to hire me based on my resume alone. Or I might give a few minutes to you now on the phone.”

“No, thank you.” She hung up without saying good-bye.

Well, it was nice to be able to at least eliminate someone. Next candidate—even less experience, a little young, perhaps, but still worth an interview. She dialed.

The first thing she heard was someone shouting at the top of their lungs in the background, followed by a whispered, “Hello?”

“Um…I’m Venus Chau, I saw your resume…”

She heard the background voice raise to bellowing level. “And you messed everything up with your laziness and incompetence…
Are you on the phone?
”

“Can I call you back? Bye!”
Click
.

What was up with these people? Did the hiring process change since she last looked for a job a year ago? She brought up another resume on her computer. Dare she try another phone call? She wouldn’t have been surprised to get a chicken farm or a funny farm instead.

She flipped the screen back to the presentation, but that only made her want to lay her head down on the desk and cry.

Esme’s hesitant knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.”

She poked her head in. “Did you want more coffee? I’m going to make a pot.”

“Thank you, yes.” Venus held out her mug.

Esme peered at the presentation. “Do you need any help with it?”

Venus slumped in her chair. “Want to do it for me?”

Her eyes sparkled like black diamonds. “Really? I’d love to.”

Venus sat up, blinking at her. The offer was like a life preserver—
no
, Venus wasn’t drowning. Just…stressed.

And as Operations Manager, Esme was qualified to give the presentation. Plus, Venus would be there in the room. It wasn’t completely unheard of to have someone else present it. Venus wasn’t averse to taking advantage of Esme’s cute face and sweet smile.

“Do you feel up to it? It’s the Amity Group—they’re a pretty big investor.”

“I’d love the opportunity. I won’t fail you.”

Venus glanced at the slides on her computer, now not so threatening. “I’ll send you the preliminary slides. You’ll need to organize them and figure out which others to add. If you’re comfortable presenting it, I’ll ask Gerry if it’s okay.”

Esme’s sunbeam smile made Venus blink against the glare. “Thanks! I’ll be right back with your coffee.” As she turned, her heel caught Venus’s computer bag strap. Her foot kicked up a little, and she looked back at the bag. “Oh! I’m so sorry. It’s not damaged, is it?”

“No, it’s fine.” Venus returned it to her desk drawer. Esme’s curious gaze as she turned the drawer key in the lock seemed a little strange. She shrugged it away as she dropped the key in her blazer pocket. “Thanks for getting me coffee.”

Esme nodded and pranced out.

Venus paused before emailing the PowerPoint presentation to Esme. Was this really a good idea? She hated feeling like she was passing the buck. But if Esme would do a good, or even better job at it—be more enthusiastic, look charming and natural, and present the technical data in a competent light—why not? Besides, she’d email Gerry to ask if she thought it would be okay. If Gerry said no, then Venus would just do the presentation herself.