One Night Standards (20 page)

“Next thing I knew, you were telling me about how many hours you were working and all of your travel,” Jeff continued relentlessly. “You never talked about anybody else.”

“I dated,” Mark protested…until he saw Jeff's knowing smirk. “Okay. So I didn't have a lot of time for a relationship.”

“You didn't have a lot of time for anything,” Jeff said. “Now, you'll have plenty of time. My question is—are you dumb enough to jump right back on that treadmill, or will you begin figuring out what's really important in your life?”

Mark felt like an idiot. “What if I told you I have started seeing someone?”

Jeff grinned broadly. “I'd say it's about time, and why isn't she here?”

“We sort of had a falling out.”

“Already?” Jeff shook his head. “What happened?”

“It sort of had to do with my job.”

“Ah. You put your job before your relationship with her, I'll bet,” Jeff said sagely.

“No.” Then Mark thought about it…about all the conversations they'd had, about keeping business and personal separate. “Well, maybe. But it was more like she put her job before me.”

“No kidding.” Jeff rubbed at his jaw thoughtfully. “What happened?”

In bits and pieces, Mark relayed the whole ugly scenario to him. He'd always been able to talk to Jeff, and now that the story was off his chest, he wondered why he hadn't talked to his family sooner. He felt better—still hurting from the loss, but a little more comfortable with it.

“Now let me get this straight,” Jeff said. “She took your job?”

“Yes.”

“Because her mom's retirement depended on it?”

Mark frowned. “It didn't…at least, not at first. Her mom pulled a power play and made it necessary for Sophie to take the job, or she'd walk away from the sale. See, I said it was complicated.”

“No, it isn't,” Jeff protested. “Was it Sophie's idea to take your job?”

“Well, no.”

“And if she didn't take the job, her mom would've walked and then lost her house and all her money, right?”

“It was her own choice, though—”

“Boy, I take back what I said. Nobody smart would say something like that.” Jeff crossed his arms. “I'm not saying the mom was right for doing what she did, but you can't blame that girl for taking the job and standing up for her family. Sounds like she did the right thing, and she wanted you to understand. But you let the whole thing get all twisted, and then you walked away.”

“It's not that easy.”

“It's not easy,” Jeff said. “But do you love her?”

Mark had been twisted in knots over that very question since the day he'd been fired. Longer than that, if he thought about it. “I love her,” he said. “But…”

“No buts,” Jeff countered. “If you love her, then this is a problem, but it's not the end of it. You need to talk this out with her.”

“I need to get my career in place first,” Mark said sharply.

“Mark, there are more important things than a career,” Jeff said.

“I know that!” Mark didn't mean to yell and was surprised to hear his own voice sounding so sharp. “You think I don't know that? This isn't just about the job, though. You said that you knew I was smart. Well…I guess I didn't. I wasn't trying to prove something to those jerks over in New York. I wasn't even trying to prove something to the woman I love. I was trying to prove something to
me,
that I could make it on my own. Not because of my looks, but because of who I was.”

Jeff was quiet for a long moment. “I'm sorry,” he said, and his voice sounded sincere. “I really didn't know you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well, you were always the smart one,” Mark said, knowing that it was true. “And Mom and Dad were good businesspeople. And there I was, making money by getting my picture taken, and everybody thought it was a big joke. Thought
I
was a big joke.”

“Does this woman love you?”

“She says she does,” Mark said. “No. I'm sure she does. And maybe it's dumb to need to prove myself. But if I don't do this…I'll always wonder, and it'll always stand between us.”

His brother clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Do what you have to do, Mark,” Jeff said. “But I will say this—don't wait forever to figure this out. Don't wait until you make your first million. Otherwise, you're going to find out that as proud as you are of yourself, she's moved on while you were out proving yourself.”

Mark felt a cold chill wash over him. “I'm praying it doesn't get to that point,” he said vehemently.

Jeff sighed. “I'll pray for both of you.”

“S
OPHIE
,”
HER MOTHER SAID
, when she opened the door of her mom's home. “You look terrible!”

“Hi to you, too, Mom,” Sophie said, putting her laptop case and purse on the kitchen table.

Her mother reddened. “I'm sorry. It's that…I haven't seen you in a few months.” She bit her lip. “You've lost weight.”

“I've been busy,” Sophie said.

“I know,” her mother said, and her voice was shaded with tones of pride. “I've been reading about Diva Nation in the trade mags, and when I saw the display they put out in the Marion & Co. over in Santa Monica—oh, Sophie, it was everything I could've dreamed of. And then some.”

“You've got Lydia to thank for that,” Sophie said. “The launch went better than we'd hoped. Orders are pouring in. You should have your retirement covered, and then some.”

“And how is working with Trimera?” her mother asked eagerly. “I'll bet they're choking on it, having to work with you.”

“Some of them are,” Sophie admitted, “but only because they worked so hard internally, and they didn't want to see somebody on the outside taking over and messing stuff up. I showed them I knew what I was doing, we figured out how to work together. Problem solved, drama over.”

Her mother blinked. “You sound angry.”

“I'm tired,” Sophie said. Then she sat down. “No, you're right. I'm angry.”

“What did they do?” her mother said, sitting down, her face concerned.

“It's not what they did,” Sophie said. “It's what you did.”

“What I did?” Her mother sighed. “Sophie, you knew what this meant to me. You knew…”

“I knew what it meant to you,” Sophie replied. “Did it ever occur to you what this would mean to me?”

Her mother was quiet for a long moment. “Is this about that man again?”

Sophie winced. Just thinking about Mark…it had been six long months, and she hadn't heard from him. Hadn't even heard
of
him. Apparently, he'd disappeared from the cosmetics industry altogether. “This isn't about him,” Sophie continued. “That's over, anyway. I don't even know where he is.”

“I said I was sorry about that,” her mother said defensively.

“I know. But your company was more important.”

Her mother sat up straighter in her chair. “All my future and my finances were tied up in it,” she said. “I suppose you wanted me to be a bag lady?”

“Here's the thing,” Sophie said. “You didn't have to be. You could have sold Diva Nation without any stipulations, and still been set for life. But you had to make sure that I was running it.”

“I had to make sure that they didn't drive the company that I'd created into the ground with crappy products and stupid management decisions,” she replied. “I had to make sure that it was in the hands of someone I trusted!”

“No, actually, you didn't,” Sophie said. “And the worst part is, I let you. I knew that you'd be stubborn enough to sabotage your own welfare out of spite.”

“You make me sound like a six-year-old.”

“You've been acting like one,” Sophie said. “I love you, Mom. But this has got to stop.”

Her mother stood up and started pacing. “Is this the conversation we have, where I'm Mommy Dearest, and I don't let you—”

“I've got an ulcer, Mom.”

Her mother stopped cold. “What? When did you find out about this?”

“I've been working my butt off, trying to make Diva Nation everything you wanted it to be,” Sophie said. “I was working ninety-hour weeks. I didn't have Mark in my life or anybody else.”

“You can't blame that on me,” her mother said, obviously sounding shaken.

“I don't,” Sophie said. “I blame that on me. I was working too hard and for the wrong reasons.” She took a deep breath. “Diva Nation is doing fine. I've got a team in place that will make sure it continues producing the quality products we're known for. And now that it's on its way…I'm quitting. I wanted to tell you myself, before I announced anything official.”

Her mother continued pacing. “You shouldn't have worked so hard,” she chided.

Sophie smiled gently. “I know. I've been trying to prove myself to you, and trying to do what I keep thinking you want. That's dumb.”

“I never…” Her mother couldn't even continue the sentence. “I didn't do this to you,” she repeated.

“No. I did this to me,” Sophie said, getting up and standing next to her mother. “And now I'm not going to do that anymore.”

She hugged her mother, and to her surprise, her mother started to cry.

“I know…I know I put you in a bad position,” she said against Sophie's shoulder. “I just wanted to get even with those bastards so badly! They ruined me. I wasn't going to let them win.”

“So you kept control,” Sophie said.

“And you paid for it.” Her mother took a deep breath. “I made my point, and you made yours. I'm sorry for that.” She paused. “So you'll walk away from it, then?”

“Yes.”

“There's no way you could maybe take a break, and go back?”

Sophie stared at her mother, then shook her head. “I'm done,” she said softly. “I want to get my own job and live my own life from now on.”

Her mother frowned, but nodded. “I can understand that.”

They stood there for a moment, silently taking the situation in. Then her mother wiped at her eyes and stepped away.

“Do you know what you're going to be doing?”

“I don't know,” Sophie admitted. It had been freeing enough just to think of quitting Diva Nation. She hadn't formulated a plan from that point. “Finding a job, I imagine. Something else in the cosmetics industry…or maybe not. I don't know.”

“You might want to take a break,” her mother suggested. “With that ulcer, and all.”

Sophie gave a short laugh. “I can buy a little time…a few months. But then, back to work.”

“You know, if it weren't for your strategy and planning, and hard work, I never would've been able to sell Diva Nation for as much as I did,” her mother said. “I want to give you some of the money from the sale.”

Sophie shook her head. “That's for your retirement.”

“I bled them dry,” her mother said with a snort. “I made out better than I could've dreamed, and you know it. I've got plenty left over. You'll take some of it, and I don't want to hear any arguments.” She smiled weakly. “Let me pay off some of this guilt.”

Sophie sighed. “All right, Mom. You win.”

“So maybe you'll take a vacation,” her mother said. “Maybe…start dating.”

It was a big concession for her take-no-prisoners, business-is-everything mother. Sophie thought it was a good step forward. Still, the thought of dating made her chest ache. She didn't want to date. She didn't want to find someone.

She'd already found Mark, and then she'd lost him. That was painful enough.

“I'll just take a break,” Sophie said. “Rest up.”

“It will get better,” her mother whispered.

Sophie nodded. “I know,” she said, even though she only knew it logically. Emotionally, she still felt like a wreck.

“So, have you already given notice?”

Sophie nodded. “I'll be making the management-changeover announcement at the sales conference in San Antonio.” One year ago, she thought. At the same conference she'd met Mark.

“I'm sure it'll be a big event,” her mother said.

“It will be memorable,” Sophie said. She certainly wouldn't forget it.

“M
ARK
M
C
M
ANN
?”

Mark stood up, feeling acutely self-conscious. He wore a suit, but he appeared to be the only guy in the building to do so, and he felt a bit like a circus freak. He'd only seen one woman, who was wearing sweats, her hair in a ponytail. She had smiled at him. Everybody else there was a guy, all wearing jeans or khakis and T-shirts that sported various humorous slogans or TV-show pictures. There was a lot of
Star Trek
present, he noticed.

He followed the guy who seemed to be acting as receptionist and jack-of-all-trades into the main “office” of the man he was interviewing with.

“Mark! Good to see you!” The chief executive officer, Frank Stone, was wearing a pair of black jeans and a Sealab 2021 T-shirt. He also gave Mark's suit a curious glance as he shook his hand. “Glad you could make it all the way out here to California to see us.”

“Looked forward to it,” Mark said, and he meant it.

“So. I've been reviewing your résumé. I have to say—it's nothing like anybody else's that has applied for the job here at Game Preserve.”

Mark had expected not—considering his entire background was in beauty and cosmetics, and this was a new video-game start-up. “Well, it wouldn't seem like it would translate, but I've got a lot of national distribution and brand experience.”

“I can see that,” Frank said, and Mark felt gratified at the appreciative tone in the guy's voice. “But tell me…we're not going to be able to pay you as much as your old company did. Why do you want to work for us?”

Mark thought about everything that had happened in the past twelve months. Meeting Sophie. Falling in love with Sophie. Losing Sophie. Losing the job at Trimera because of Sophie. In roughly that order.

“I need a change,” Mark said, thinking
understatement of the year.
“I used to love video games as a kid and I've rediscovered them since then. Meanwhile, I've learned everything I needed to at my old job, and now I'm looking for a challenge.”

“Well, we'll definitely be that,” Frank said.

The two of them talked shop for a while, and by the end of the interview, Mark felt as if he'd done the best he could—laid out what he thought Game Preserve's strategy should be, the whole nine yards. Now, it was in their hands.

Frank stood up, stretching, and Mark assumed that the interview was over, so he stood up, too, offering his hand again. But Frank laughed.

“No, I'll be taking you out to lunch, too, if you're up for it. I won't beat around the bush. I like you, and even though your background is completely wrong for us, I go with my gut on this sort of thing. But you'll have to run the gamut if you're going to work here.”

Mark straightened up. “I have no problem with that. I'm just looking for a chance.”

Frank's eyes glinted, and Mark suddenly wondered what the hell he had agreed to. Frank opened his office door, motioning for Mark to follow. “Okay, guys!” Frank yelled down the corridor. “We've got a candidate!”

With that, a wide range of men came pouring out of cubicles and headed for a large lounge-looking area. Mark swallowed nervously, wondering if this was some sort of arcane ritual akin to hazing. And he'd thought that the cosmetics industry was rough.

They were staring at him like a sacrificial lamb, and Mark refused to blink.

“Okay,” Frank said, crossing his arms. “Five minutes. Let 'im have it.”

Before Mark could react to that sweeping statement, he was peppered with questions.

“Where do you buy most of your video games?”

“What's the best game you've bought in the past year?”

“What do you own?”

His head spun as the voices came yelling out at him, like a squalling mob. He took a deep breath. “Y' all done?” he asked easily.

They went quiet, expectant.

One more deep breath, and then he marked everyone who'd asked him a question. “I get my games anywhere I'm in town, usually at a game store because the clerks know what I'm talking about, sometimes online if I have the time,” he said to a stocky guy with thick glasses. “I own an Xbox, a PS2, a Game Boy, my PDA's equipped, and I've got some stuff on my PC at home,” he said to a thin, tall Asian man, who grinned in response. “And the best game I've bought in the past year is Halo 2…and I'd challenge anybody in here to try and take me on it, after the hours I've logged.”

“We'll take you up on that!” a short kid with a backward baseball cap said, and the rest of them laughed.

Mark let out a quick huff. He'd survived the lion's den. Frank looked puffed up with pride.

“Why don't we go to lunch,” he said with a broad grin, “and discuss some particulars. Like salary, and benefits.”

Mark nodded to the assorted guys, who nodded back in return. “Welcome to the team,” the Asian guy said with a smile.

Mark felt his spine straighten. Part of the team. One of the guys.