Page 26 of Engineering a Love Story

“How much does radon mitigation cost?” The unfamiliar words roll in my mouth.

“Couple thousand. They’ll get us an estimate.”

I do the math. We’re not making money on the house, and Denny’s commission will take our down payment. Something extra like this and we’ll fall in the hole. But I don’t have time to sort out radon mitigation right now. Or even think about it. I agree to let the buyers handle it. “Just let me know what it will cost. So I can be prepared?”

Evan and I fly to San Francisco two days later.

***

It’s dark by the time our taxi climbs Nob Hill and deposits us at the Mark Hopkins. I pause to take in the red carpet on the steps, the glass awnings, all the lights. An impeccable doorman takes my suitcase, holds the door for us, and leads us through the lobby, which is all muted mauve furniture and gold accents. We’re not in Fisherman’s Wharf anymore.

My room is small though no less luxurious. When I remove my shoes, the carpet sinks beneath my feet. I’m too tired to enjoy the bathroom now, but I make a note to test out the cavernous tub the following evening.

From my suitcase, I take my pink dress and hang it, so it will be ready for the morning. I wore this dress to a wedding I attended with Ash in Newport last summer. It has a narrow cut with a high neckline, sleeveless, a little belt. Perfectly professional. I’ve packed a boring backup outfit too, in case I lose my nerve with this dress, but I like to wear things a little more feminine when I know I’m likely to be one of the only women in a room. A statement affirming the validity of the difference perhaps.

And I know this dress is flattering. If I’m looking forward to laying eyes on Seth tomorrow, I can only hope I might also feel his on me, and if that happens, I want to be wearing this dress.

Fifteen

The morning sessions begin early. When I find the correct room, I grab coffee and a muffin from the spread in the back, the lining of my dress cool and silky against my skin. I locate Evan in the crowd and take a seat beside him at one of eight long tables in the room.

Paul Igo, an analyst from Aberson Research, a smaller research house, is on my other side, and we say hello. Even though our firms compete, analysts see each other at events like this all the time, and it’s been a pleasant surprise to find how collegial most are. There are other familiar faces in the room, analysts from boutique firms that only track fin-tech.

And Greg Kielty is there. Greg is the online banking analyst from GlobalTech, the only IT research firm nearly as influential as Gilroy. Given that GlobalTech is our biggest competitor and Greg is older and more experienced than me, I often feel I’m in his shadow. And he is, as it happens, an unusually large man. Unlike most of these other men, Greg never speaks to me.

Altogether, there are maybe forty men in this room, and only two other women, one of whom stops by to introduce herself as Claire Sanchez. She’s unsurprisingly efficient but also dazzling with a sheet of paper-straight black hair that swings well past her shoulders and plum-colored nails that match her lipstick. She asks about my flight, confirms that my room is acceptable, and reminds me I’m scheduled to sit down with Manish later.

After Claire leaves, I assess the room. Most of the men here sport a good deal of gray hair, but I do spot a few dark heads in chairs lining the front of the room. I crane my neck.

Seth is there, sitting between Manish and a man I recognize from all the Aurelian magazine articles to be Jack Meckler, Aurelian’s CEO. Seth bends forward, elbows on his knees, head turned as he speaks to Jack. A purple tie swings forward and the bits of his shirt I can see are pink. He’s holding rolled up papers and he taps this tube against an open palm. When he laughs at something Jack has said, the deep expansive sound carries across the room. Then Seth sits back, lifting his hands in a stretch behind his head.

I quickly pull my eyes away. Evan already has his screen open and I swing mine up as well, preparing to take notes. The screech of a microphone signals we’re about to begin.

“Welcome everyone.” Hearing a familiar voice, I lift my head. “We’re thrilled you’re all here with us today.” Seth has moved to the front of the room, which isn’t large enough to warrant a stage. There’s a podium with an embedded Mark Hopkins logo, but Seth isn’t standing behind that either. Instead, he’s moving comfortably, his tie swishing as he ambles, his shoes making no sound on the carpet. He launches into welcoming comments and describes the great year Aurelian is having. His baritone voice holds a smile, as if he’s mildly amused by this whole situation and thinks we should be amused, too, because we know who he is—Aurelian’s sales guy. His suit and tamped-down curls are still a little slick, but his pink shirt and purple tie are playful. He’s starched and expensive. Sexy. One hand holds a clicker, which Seth uses to occasionally motion back at a screen, and I watch his hands, remembering how his fingers felt against my skin.

I pull my gaze down, worried I may have unintentionally made an audible sound. Blood races through me, my body pounding. I check on Evan again, but he’s paying me no attention.

“Now, I’m going to leave you in the adept hands of Aurelian’s CMO—and my best friend—Manish Bindra.”

Manish takes the clicker from Seth and gives him a pat on the shoulder as they trade places. As Manish launches into Aurelian’s vision for banking online in the new century, and Seth retakes his seat, I force my attention to remain on Manish, though I soon find this isn’t difficult—Manish is a captivating speaker. He has a quirky charm that blends with an earnestness and makes what he’s saying appear to be fact. By the time he’s finished, I imagine most men in this room believe the meltdown in the dot-com sector will be only beneficial for brick-and-mortar banks. The internet is still going to revolutionize banking, and Aurelian is the best vendor to help these guys win their battles.

Vitalik Orlov, Aurelian’s CTO, is next up with the roadmap presentation. While Vitalik lacks Manish’s charisma, he is a perfectly competent speaker with an appealing Eastern European lilt in his voice. He spends most of his time detailing Aurelian PayNow, which remains in beta, and I’m relieved to finally receive a proper explanation of this product. Evan and I make eye contact. We can use content from Orlov’s presentation in our Spotlight.

A small customer panel finishes out the morning, and lunch is served in an adjoining conference room. Tables are pre-set with name cards, so Evan and I separate to find our seats. I’m between an older man named Peter Lublin from Alliance Bank in Chicago, and Vitalik, who arrives at the table just as I do.

“Chelsea,” Vitalik says. “Nice to meet you.” He is a beefy man with wide shoulders that stretch the seams of his dark suit, and he gives me a once-over from head to toe as he pulls out my chair. Seated, he sips from a drippy glass of ice water. “So. How did you come to be an online banking expert?”

Here we go, I think. Engineering guys like Vitalik are suspicious of Gilroy generally: Who are you people to make recommendations about our tech? And me in particular. They can never believe I understand anything about the products they’ve built.

Thankfully, before I answer, Peter Lublin leans past me to introduce himself to Vitalik. Alliance hasn’t purchased anything from Aurelian yet, though it’s obvious Peter is intrigued by what he’s heard this morning. He volleys questions to Vitalik throughout lunch. I also learn that Alliance is a Gilroy client, and Peter expresses interest in potentially working together as Alliance moves forward with its online banking project. Vitalik doesn’t address me directly again.

I try not to keep a mental tally of where Seth is in the room, but it isn’t easy. For most of the meal, he’s two tables away with several gray-haired men and the other woman in attendance, a short, smiley redhead in a flattering white pantsuit. It feels intimate having Seth so near, remembering the things we did together and knowing he must remember these details too, even if he never looks my way.

Manish stops by, and after he greets everyone at the table, he squats near my chair, which I pull out slightly to face him.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” he says. “Thanks for coming.”

My voice hooks a little as I search for and find the right words to greet him. I’m banking on Seth’s promise that he wouldn’t tell Manish about his visit to my hotel room. Manish has undoubtedly offered similar greetings to every analyst in this room, though I still worry my discomfort is obvious.