Chapter 112 - Reyes #2
The strange immediate relief of meeting someone whose brain moved at approximately the same speed as yours.
Thea had that.
And yes, she was attractive.
Very.
If I had been single, maybe I would have wondered.
Maybe I would have stayed after the conference.
Maybe the next conversation would have been dinner.
Maybe nothing would have happened anyway.
That was the thing about possibilities.
There were billions of them.
Most never became lives.
My phone vibrated.
Layla.
Another photo.
Carl was standing beside the sofa, holding the plastic lid triumphantly in one hand.
He was wearing a shirt.
One sock.
No pants.
My son looked like he had survived a very small revolution.
I laughed.
Thea glanced toward my phone.
"Your son?"
I looked up.
"Yeah."
I showed her the photo.
She studied it.
"He looks proud."
"He won a dispute regarding pants."
"Strong negotiator."
"Terrible terms."
"Who conceded?"
"My wife."
The word came naturally.
My wife.
Thea looked at me.
Just for a second.
Something registered.
Not disappointment exactly.
Information.
"Ah."
"Layla."
I tilted the phone slightly.
Thea nodded.
"Cute kid."
"He's insane."
"Most successful people are."
"He currently considers plastic lids a premium product."
"Low manufacturing cost. Strong margins."
I pointed at her.
"Don't encourage him."
She smiled.
The moderator announced the next session.
People began moving toward the ballroom doors.
Thea checked the agenda.
"Capital panel next."
"I saw."
"Staying?"
"I should."
"That sounded enthusiastic."
"I have responsibilities."
"Your finance guy already has coffee."
"That's true."
We stood.
Thea adjusted her badge.
"I'm getting an actual drink after this. Somewhere that serves food larger than a coin."
There it was.
Not quite an invitation.
Not quite not one.
In another life, maybe I would have said yes.
Actually, no.
That was too dramatic.
In another evening, if I were single and interested, maybe I would have said yes.
But my phone buzzed again.
Layla:
Can you get milk on the way home?
Then:
Also your son put the lid in the toilet.
I closed my eyes.
Thea noticed.
"Bad news?"
"My son has escalated."
She waited.
"The lid entered the toilet."
A pause.
"Did the lid consent?"
I laughed loudly enough that two people turned.
"Okay. That was terrible."
"You laughed."
"I have low standards."
"Clearly."
I put my phone away.
"I'm heading home after the panel."
"The pants negotiation?"
"Among other crises."
"Understandable."
No tension.
No lingering look designed for an audience.
No universe shifting around us.
She pulled a business card from her badge holder and offered it.
"If you ever decide your attention theory is wrong."
I took it.
"If you ever discover that PowerPoint is not a business model."
"Unlikely."
"Then we have nothing to discuss."
"Tragic."
I handed her my card.
She looked at it.
"Lia Ramos."
"The one and only."
"That seems statistically unlikely."
I smiled.
"I like you, Reyes."
"I know."
"Confident."
"Accurate."
We went back inside.
The capital panel was better than the morning one.
Barely.
Thea asked a question halfway through that made one speaker visibly reconsider his answer.
I liked that.
I asked another about founder dependence.
Thea looked over from two rows away and gave me the smallest nod.
I returned it.
That was all.
Afterward, Carlo tried to trap me near another investor.
I escaped.
Thea was speaking with three people near the ballroom doors.
Our eyes met once.
She lifted her glass.
I lifted my hand.
Then I left.
No last-minute invitation.
No number slipped secretly into a pocket.
No wondering whether I should turn around.
I stopped for milk on the way home.
When I opened the front door, Layla called from the kitchen.
"Before you ask, I threw away the lid."
I removed my shoes.
"Understandable."
Carl came running toward me with the unstable confidence of a tiny drunk businessman.
"Mama!"
I crouched.
He crashed into me.
I caught him.
He smelled like baby soap and dinner.
"One sock," I said.
He grinned.
"Still?"
Layla appeared.
"He rejected the other one on philosophical grounds."
I kissed Carl's cheek.
Then hers.
"Conference okay?"
"Useful."
"Boring?"
"Mostly."
"Anyone interesting?"
I thought about it.
"Actually, yeah. Met someone named Thea Reyes."
Layla opened the milk.
"Oh?"
"Smart. Investor brain. Very annoying."
"You like annoying."
"I married you."
Layla slowly looked at me.
I handed Carl to her and immediately stepped backward.
"No."
"You have approximately three seconds."
"That was affectionate."
"Two."
"I bought milk."
"One."
I kissed her before she could continue.
She laughed against my mouth.
Carl, trapped between us, objected loudly to the entire situation.
"Okay, okay," Layla said, pulling away. "Your mother is home. Happy?"
Carl reached for me.
I took him.
He immediately grabbed my conference badge.
"No."
He pulled harder.
"Carl."
The lanyard snapped against my neck.
Layla laughed.
"The great Lia Ramos defeated by an ID."
"I survived eight hours of networking."
Carl yanked again.
"I will not lose here."
He smiled.
Then tried to put the badge in his mouth.
I surrendered.
Layla leaned against the counter, laughing.
Thea Reyes had been smart.
Funny.
Beautiful.
Interesting enough that, under different circumstances, I might have wanted to know her longer.
And that was fine.
People did not become destiny just because they could have been something.
Some people were simply good conversations.
Some doors could remain doors without needing to be opened.
Carl hit me in the chest with my own conference badge.
I looked down at him.
"Violence."
He laughed.
Layla handed me a plate.
"Eat."
I sat.
Home was noisy.
The kitchen still had evidence of the pants dispute.
There was one tiny sock under the table.
My wife was telling me how our son had nearly thrown a spoon into the trash.
Carl was now attempting to eat my lanyard.
And somewhere else in the city, Thea Reyes had gone back to her own evening.
No secret destiny.
No unfinished love story.
Just two people who met.
Liked each other.
And went home.