Chapter 27
PITTSBURGH
JUNE 15, 2022
AGE: 35
IWOKE UP IN MY USUAL BED, IN MY USUAL NEIGHBORHOOD, NEXT TO MY usual boyfriend snoring his usual snore. And yet I felt completely unusual—strangely well rested and energized, although I had no biometric data to prove it. I lifted the covers and crept toward the bedroom door, careful not to wake Hal.
In the kitchen, I considered my plan for my remaining time in Pittsburgh. Not just the logistics of the Father’s Day parade or finding a last-minute benefactor to save the foundation—and keep Sophie from sliding back into the clutches of her rotten ex-boyfriend—but all the other things I wanted to do while I was still here. I’d always meant to go to a Pirates game, and what better way to deliver the fancy farewell date that Sophie and I deserved? Or maybe I’d take her to that chic seafood place in the converted theater in the Strip District. And then there was Hal. How would we mark our last days together?
So many options, so little time. I needed to calm down. I heated a cup of water in a copper pot on the stove, then emptied a packet of yeast into it. I could feel my body relax as the earthy aroma rose from the liquid’s surface. I looked out the window at the brightening Pittsburgh sky.
I waited until the last possible minute to throw on a clean button-down and soft-wash jeans and head out the door. A sense of nostalgia filled me as I made my way to work. I’d hardly given this city a chance and I was already ditching it. I resolved to come back. I could open a Jentle Lentil outpost near SteelHaus, and keep an eye on Sophie. First, though, I had to ensure she’d still be working out of SteelHaus. Thankfully, according to my calendar, I had a call scheduled with the one and only Levi Fischer. This was my chance to save Sophie’s job and make everything right.
I should have been used to video calls by now. They were part of modern business life, but I still hated them and the way people wasted no time getting down to business on them. Alice insisted that Levi was a highly visual person, so audio-only, my typical go-to, was not an option. Knowing what I did about him, I doubted it was charts and projections that he liked to look at. And I more than doubted he really had any interest in investing in a concern whose purported mission was to empower women. But I could persuade him. I was doing this for Sophie, I reminded myself.
When the pop-up reminder on my laptop told me it was time for the call, I went into Alice’s office for privacy. My heart was racing as I clicked “join” and waited to be let into Levi’s virtual room.
Suddenly, there he was, the grossest entrepreneur-turned-investor to roam the earth. I inhaled deeply to brace myself. I was always my most inarticulate at the beginning of these calls; small talk was not meant to be conducted on a small screen.
Levi looked relaxed in that way only very rich men can. He had a bandana tied around his neck and he was at an outdoor table, the sea sparkling in the background. I wondered if he was already in “Ibitha.”
“Hello,” Levi said in his arrogant drawl. “Did you just wake up from a nap or something?”
I looked at myself in the tiny window on the screen and confirmed that there was a slight bedhead situation going on. I’d been so stressed all morning preparing the presentation I’d forgotten to freshen up before the call.
“The opposite,” I said briskly, smoothing down my hair. “Hard at work over here. I’m juggling a few initiatives, trying to keep Alice happy.”
This made him laugh derisively. “Best of luck to anyone who tries to crack that nut. I bet Alice is riding you hard.” He made a gesture with his hand that I imagined signaled a whip.
“You know Alice,” I said. “Entropy is the enemy.”
He chuckled and leaned back, kicking his feet up next to his computer. “She’s intense. Always plotting something new. But you should know that we go way back, so any friend of Alice’s is a friend of mine.” He made slow, undulating nods.
“Well, thanks again for your interest in the Aurora Foundation. Why don’t we look at the slides I prepared,” I said nervously. I shared my screen and showed him the animated presentation I’d built around the foundation’s work on gender equity. I’d made it as far as the bar graph tracking big banking’s failure to fund women-owned businesses over the past decade when Levi cut me off. “I don’t need to see some PowerPoint presentation,” he said. “Just gimme the real deal. Open the kimono, am I right?” He said the last words in a fake cockney accent. I was probably expected to laugh.
Had my best friend really fallen for this guy? It seemed completely out of character for Geeta, who always went for men who were accommodating to the point of being subservient. But Levi had gotten his hooks into her. Even if Geeta wasn’t entirely operating out of free will, I’d seen that blush when she read the text from “Sharon.”
I tried to push Geeta out of my mind as I delivered my spiel about how we at the Aurora Foundation believed that getting men involved in the gender-equity conversation was critical to making the change we wanted to see in the world.
“What’s your flying car?” Levi asked, interrupting me.
“My car’s at the shop. It got sideswiped at my college reunion.”
“You know what I mean. Uber didn’t just dispatch taxis; they developed flying cars. Airbnb opened a film studio. WeWork elevated people’s consciousness—until it didn’t,” he said with a laugh. “But at least they had ambition. How are you changing the world?”
I cleared my throat and started with a line I had delivered hundreds of times. “We’re committed to achieving a more gender-equal society across communities by raising barrier aware—”
Levi made a horn noise. I could see his eyes sliding somewhere below the camera. He was probably looking at his phone. “The problem with non-profit chicks like you is that you don’t get business. There’s an important question you’re not answering: Where’s my perk?”
“Your perk would be aligning with an organization that’s committed to—”
“You’re not hearing me, babe. I don’t have time for bullshit.”
“I’m not sure how fighting for gender justice is bullshit,” I said.
“I’m investing in Ashton’s clean-energy initiatives because I am getting hammered in the press for my enthusiasm for crypto, which is supposedly bad for the environment.” Levi smiled, as if impressed by his own power to contribute to global destruction. “You follow, Jessie?”
“It’s Jenny,” I reminded him. Levi’s expression told me that he didn’t like to be corrected.
“The point is that Alice put you up to this because she needs funding for her cute little philanthropic venture that she uses to write off her vacations, and I, in turn, have a little bitty problem with women. Just come out and say it.” He folded his hands behind his head and a smirk hovered at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to. If I’m going to bail you out, Key Relationship Officer, you and I would be having our own special key relationship, you know?”
“I’m sure we’d be in regular contact.” I sat up straighter and forced a smile. “Levi, this would be in both of our interests. We could use a chairman-level commitment of $100,000 for the year and it would greatly benefit you in light of your situa—”
“Hold up, hold up,” he interrupted me and picked up his phone. “Hey, sweets,” he said to the lucky caller. “No, no, I’m not doing anything important... Yeah, I can hear them. You’re not nursing them both at once are you?”
I went rigid with anger.
“God, it’s so hot when you do that.” He made a little grunt. “You can show me some of that on my new flying machine.”
“Um, hello, Levi?” I said loudly, half-hoping Geeta would recognize my voice in the background. “Are we still doing this?”
Levi faced me. “That’s my latest investment. Business with me is three-hundred-and-sixty degree. When you’re in my circle, you’re all in.”
The thought of being “in” with anything involving this cretin made me physically ill.
“You know what,” I said. “I just can’t.”
“You can’t... what?”
“Do this. With you.”
“Oh really?” Levi looked surprised. “Let me call you back, baby,” he said, putting away his phone. Then he looked back at me and gave an impish smile. “Alice didn’t tell me you were such a little tease. You’re perfectly fine looking, but you act like you’re a ten. Don’t take that the wrong way. I find self-respect incredibly erotic.” There was that grin again. “I own a hotel, you know. We could meet there and—”
My mouth fell open. This guy was psychotic.
“Just keep your money.” I slammed my laptop shut. And then, a moment later, I remembered my mission. Sophie. My head dropped into my hands.
I’d messed up royally, as the text from 000–000 that appeared on my phone was keen to remind me. It came with a loud, high-pitched sound, like a flash-flood warning.
Stop before you create any more damage. Go to July 8, 2017. Immediately.
I wasn’t looking forward to a dressing down from Desiree but at least here was an opportunity to escape this moment before I heard from Alice.
I opened the Memo app and scrolled through the trove of Pathetic video clips. Leigh on the Colbert Report, talking about her new exhibition. Geeta on a stage, leading a meditation session at the G7. And then I came upon Gabe and Thea, sitting by a fireplace in what looked like the lobby of a lodge. They were wearing matching fleece Snuggies and cuddling.
That did it. I tapped on the Kinetic button and made my exit.