Love, Technically Page 10

  Part of her couldn’t wait to get out of the loud city and out of the office, and another part of her dreaded it. It would be too easy to fall into old patterns at home. Her family always held Thanksgiving dinner with her ex-boyfriend’s family, and had since infancy. Brad would ask her to go for a walk in the cold to digest, and then they’d come home to watch football and he’d slide an arm around her shoulder to warm her up. The memory of how his arm fit on her shoulder suddenly felt comforting and not like a restraint, as it had for the past few years.

  On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, the office was tomb-silent. Most people had headed out already. Sydney had left Monday for somewhere requiring multiple online bikini purchases. Every time Michelle had looked over in the past few days, shopping sites were on Sydney’s screen. Must be nice, though she couldn’t imagine Thanksgiving without the possibility of snow, and surely pumpkin pie would taste different on a beach. Although Michelle was pretty certain Sydney and her family would order in sushi or something equally unpatriotic for Thanksgiving dinner.

  Michelle looked around now at the mostly empty office and started to shut down. She’d packed last night, so maybe she could catch an earlier bus. It wasn’t as if there was a rush on seats for the bus to Iowa. She couldn’t even get a bus ticket directly to Minsker. Her parents were driving an hour to pick her up.

  “Casey, I’m heading out now,” she said to her boss, who’d been there since morning and showed no signs of leaving unless the power went out.

  Casey looked up. “Oh. Happy Thanksgiving, Michelle.”

  “Same to you.”

  “Before you get going, I wanted to tell you how pleased I’ve been with your work and how well you handled the whole Sydney thing. Enjoy your time at home.”

  She froze and turned back to Casey. “Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m going to be doing some thinking over the holiday. I think I want to go to college full time and may not be returning.” Holy moly. What made me say that? She hadn’t even known it was on her mind until her lips were speaking the words. But as she said them, she realized it was true. She couldn’t keep going on like this. She was always feeling inferior, even with the evening certificate classes. She was never going to hold her own with people like Sydney until she had a diploma on her wall.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Casey said. “We would miss you around here. Let me know your decision as soon as possible.”

  She grabbed her bag and hustled out of the office, grateful to be heading away from the city for the quiet of Iowa for a few days.

  …

  Sark shuffled from the elevator toward his desk, when he really wanted to head straight to Michelle’s desk and kiss her until she agreed to be with him again. He missed her. The first week, he’d given her time to cool down. Week two had taken him to New York to meet with investors. Now he was back, and enough was enough. He had to talk to her.

  His feet ate up the carpet and within seconds he stood at the marketing department. No one was there save Casey. “Is Michelle around?” he asked, trying not to yawn. He’d arrived back in Chicago late last evening. The PR team had him in nonstop meetings while he’d been gone.

  “It’s Wednesday, Noah,” Casey said. “The day before Thanksgiving.”

  That’s right…he remembered his mother confirming his attendance at his parents’ home for Thanksgiving Day. But it hadn’t registered internally that all of his employees took the day off. Except, of course, for Casey, who didn’t seem to have any sort of personal life. His chest ached. Had Michelle left town without saying good-bye? Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d been in town to say good-bye to.

  He turned to go to his desk. “Bye Casey, happy Thanksgiving.” His voice was flat, toneless.

  “See ya around.”

  He’d made it five feet away when Casey called to him. “She may not be coming back, Noah.”

  He spun and stalked back to Casey. “What?”

  “She mentioned she was considering a change and may not return to LightWave.”

  His gut felt like he’d taken a professional boxer’s punch. He might have lost her for good.

  Casey took pity on him. “She left five minutes ago. If you race, you can probably catch her in the lobby.”

  He was at the stairs by the time the word lobby left Casey’s lips. He jumped down five steps at a time and hurled himself into the lobby then out into the cold, his eyes scanning for Michelle.

  …

  Michelle stood at the intersection, trying and failing to hail a taxi. A familiar male voice called out from behind her.

  “Michelle!”

  She ignored him and continued standing in the street with an outstretched hand. Footsteps sounded on the pavement behind her.

  “Where are you going? I’ll take you in the company car. It’s on call all week, since the board’s in town, and I have it scheduled to drive me home tonight.”

  Michelle remained in the street, holding an ungloved hand out in the bitter wind, desperately wishing a taxi would drive by. Oh, why hadn’t she taken the train to the bus station? With her big bag, she’d decided to splurge on a taxi.

  Stupid, because now Sark was here offering a ride and looking more tempting than she remembered. She didn’t want to accept anything from him, knowing it could come back to bite her in the ass. But on the other hand, she was running late and it was darn cold out. Was one ride in luxury going to cause that much more of a problem?

  “Fine. I’ll take a ride,” she said, making a mental promise to stay strong against his lure and not curl into his warm, tempting body.

  The drive to the bus station took about fifteen minutes of stop-and-go traffic. The silence in the car wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

  “How long a ride is it to Minsker?” They sat on opposite sides of the car, but he was still too close for her comfort. In his thick green sweater, he looked snuggly and warm.

  “A few hours.”

  “Will it be good to be home?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “So much has changed since I left. I wonder if I’ll feel a little out of my element with family and old friends.”

  “I know what you mean about feeling out of your element.” He leaned back against the seat and sighed. “Rough day with the board,” he muttered.

  Don’t ask, she told herself. They were no longer a couple. She didn’t have the right to hold his hand and try to offer comfort. “What’s going on?” She clamped her lips shut, internally vowing to shut the heck up. His business wasn’t her problem, no matter how drained and weary he looked.

  “You really want to know?” He sat a little straighter and his penetrating brown eyes looked at her through his glasses.

  In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes. I want to know.”

  “Remember the idea I mentioned?”

  “About using motion to recharge phones?” His large hand rested on the leather seat between them. She forcibly moved her gaze to his face so she didn’t fall prey to the lure of holding his hand.

  “Well, it takes the LightWave technology to the next level. As it stands now, the LightWave software gives phone batteries a longer life before they need charging. What if we could remove the need for charging altogether?”

  She blinked. “How is that possible?”

  “Solar combined with motion. The act of walking with your phone or jiggling around in a purse could do it.”

  “No way.”

  He smiled. “It’s a no way right now, but I think I could do it.” He fell back in the seat with a frown. “If I had the resources.”

  “But you’re CEO. Can’t you just get what you need?”

  He gave her a wry look. “It’s not that easy when the company’s public. I have to answer to the board and shareholders.”

  “And they won’t give you what you need?” She leaned toward him. “That’s ridiculous. Your idea is amazing. I mean, can’t you just imagine the ad campaign?” She twisted within the confines of the se
at belt to face him. “Picture it. I see a city or maybe a suburban neighborhood with people walking out into the sunshine holding their phones. They go off to concerts in the park or shopping with friends. But some of the people would be literally chained to their houses, not by chains but by their phone charging cords.”

  He grinned. “I can picture that.” Now his hand found hers and squeezed. “I can see why Casey wants you to stay. You have good ideas.”

  The light changed and the car picked up speed. “Did she tell you I might be leaving?”

  He nodded. “Please don’t go, Michelle. Whatever happens between us, LightWave needs you. I need you.”

  She glanced out the window, pulling her hand out of his to nibble a fingernail at his mention of them as a couple. “I have to go home for Thanksgiving, Noah. My parents are expecting me.” She’d had to pull her hand away, because much as she wanted to deny it, his plea could break her. If he asked again, she’d keep her hand in his and call her parents to tell them she was staying in Chicago for Thanksgiving.

  “Will you come back?”

  “I don’t know. I have a lot of thinking to do over the holiday. What will you do if you don’t get the go-ahead to work on this new project?”

  “I honestly don’t know. Stay at LightWave, I guess.”

  “And be miserable?” She turned to face him. “You don’t need them. You can make it work all on your own.” She reached up to touch his face. “I believe in you, Noah.”

  The car pulled to a stop and she saw two large buses alongside, indicating they’d arrived at her destination. She took a breath and braced herself to say good-bye, but he held on to her hand.

  “Don’t call me Noah. I’m Sark to you,” he whispered into her ear. “Always. Have a good Thanksgiving, and please come back.”

  She pulled her hand away and got out of the car, praying he wouldn’t follow her because she was fighting back tears and it was a losing battle. She managed to swallow them down when he got out of the car and pulled her into a tight hug. Her arms wound around his strong body, and she buried her face in his shirt, inhaling. It could be her last embrace with him.

  He pulled away, jumped into the car, and closed the door behind him.

  She took a second to look at the tinted windows, but couldn’t see inside. Hefting her bag over her shoulder, she got on the bus and found a seat.

  …

  Sark watched in a daze as Michelle’s bus pulled away, then had the driver return to the office. He sat at his desk, staring at the computer screen but not really seeing it. Finally, he shut the workstation down, grabbed his laptop, and headed out into the blustery day. He walked a few blocks, shivering, until he realized he was quite close to the fancy apartment he owned but didn’t occupy.

  He decided to head over there and think things through. Since it was completely devoid of supplies, he stopped to buy a roll of toilet paper and some snacks. He had a vague idea it would be fun to tinker around and code something unrelated to LightWave. It would center his mind and maybe help him decide what to do.

  Once in the apartment, he settled in front of the large window and stared at the lake. In the summer, the turquoise water lapping on the shore looked inviting, but now, on the cusp of winter, it looked threatening and cold. Or maybe it was his mood. To tell the truth, he didn’t feel particularly thankful for anything at the moment. Objectively, he knew he was luckier than 99 percent of the world, judging solely by the number of commas in his bank account, but it would be tough to get him in the Thanksgiving mood.

  Inside, where it counted, he was cold and lonely. He didn’t have Michelle, if he’d ever had her at all. It had become increasingly obvious on his New York trip that he’d left his heart in Chicago—both his feelings for Michelle and his love for LightWave.

  He realized that the more people he spoke to, the more he wanted to pursue his dream of a cord-free power option for wireless devices. So what if he didn’t have the backing of the board? He could leave. He could pursue his dreams solo. He’d done it before. Michelle hadn’t blinked at his idea. She’d told him he could do it, and he knew he could with the right investors and engineering team.

  There was nothing tying him to LightWave except a lot of money and loyalty to the employees who’d been with him from the beginning. Well, the money he could live without, and anyone who was that loyal to him could follow him to the new company. Sure, there were all sorts of complications such as his non-compete agreement, his pilfering of LightWave employees, and so forth, but they were minor complications in the scheme of things. All solvable with a little ingenuity.

  He pulled out his laptop and opened a document. Instead of jumping headfirst into coding as he’d done with LightWave, he started to plan. He’d learned a thing or two over the years, particularly during the company’s grueling start-up phase. A business plan started to form on-screen.

  He typed fast and furiously, planning what he’d need and how much it would cost, losing track of time as he went. Satisfied at the start on the business plan, he got to work on solving the software side of his next challenge. There would have to be major strides on the hardware end, but that came later. First he had to prove he could code it.

  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.