Page 44 of Engineering a Love Story

I pause momentarily, allowing a quick flash of Seth in a suit. “Maybe I’d bring someone from the office. Just for fun?”

“Absolutely. There will be swarms of Gilroy people there. Tracy did the whole shebang last time, so this do is just for us.” We cross the crowded concourse. “Is there no one new then?”

I say no, but then I hesitate, maybe still a little giddy myself. “Actually, there has been someone.” I lean toward Simon. “But it’s messy.”

Simon laughs. “Best ones are.”

He’s readying to leave me at the Amtrak counter when his phone rings. Simon answers with his eyes on my face. “Excellent. Of course. Right, then. Thanks very much.” He lowers the phone. “That,” he says, tucking the device back inside the pocket of his suit coat, “was Dinesh at Citi. Confirming their intention to sign Citibank’s first-ever Gilroy contract.” Simon wants me to know he credits me with the win. “If I can ever be of service, you’ll let me know.”

September

Twenty-Five

On the first of September, Seth sends an amusing note from Singapore, where he inadvertently locked himself on the balcony of his hotel room in only a towel. Typical Murphy chaos, he writes. He attaches Aurelian’s latest customer list and says he’ll arrive in Boston the Friday after Labor Day.

I’ve spent so many days alone in my apartment at this point, I can’t quite envision having anyone here with me, never mind Seth, whose image in my mind has gone paper thin from overuse. Readying my place, I convince myself I’m simply settling in as I need to do. I know I should keep this in perspective, but the excited anticipation is too good. After feeling nothing for so long?

For my deep windowsills, I buy a few plants, and I also purchase a batik rug in green and blue prints. One afternoon, I stumble upon a small kitchen table and two chairs on a sidewalk with a handwritten “free” sign attached. The chairs are scuffed with rattling spindles, and the plastic edge of the table is peeling, but it fits perfectly in the nook of my kitchen. I carry the table and chairs there myself. I even buy new sheets, a crisp white set with a scatter of tiny green leaves.

By Friday morning, I’m a frazzle of nerves. I bike early, hoping to burn off some impatient energy, but I’m still distracted when I arrive at the office, where unfortunately, Evan and I have a morning briefing with Ronald Spillane, the marketing director at Sofra Technology. The company is readying its own bill-pay product and is on a pre-release briefing tour for press and analysts.

I meet Ronald and Sofra’s PR person Annette in Gilroy’s lobby.

“Chelsea, it’s good to see you.” Ronald extends a hand past his round belly, which is encased in a striped dress shirt and black suit jacket. He already seems rumpled, though it’s still early in the day, and his salt-and-pepper hair looks a little greasy. I’ve met Ronald in person twice before and we’ve had several phone calls; he is, without a doubt, my least favorite vendor contact. Unlike Manish, Ronald takes an aggressive route in his attempts to convince me of Sofra’s greatness. He denigrates competitors, brags about his company’s success, and challenges my knowledge if I dare to contradict him, which I won’t bother to do.

“This way.” I motion Ronald and Annette toward a conference room where Evan waits.

“I can’t believe how hot it is,” Annette comments.

“I know,” I say. “Some kind of late-summer heat wave.”

In the meeting room, Annette distributes paper copies of the presentation Ronald delivers from his laptop, though I have difficulty concentrating on his content in either form. Ronald spends too much time reading from his slides, of which there are too many. He meanders through Sofra’s take on the market—which Evan and I don’t need—before finally getting to the meat of his news. By that time, my mind has wandered off entirely.

“This bill-pay release will definitively put us out in front of the competition,” Ronald concludes. “Aurelian in particular is a mess. I have hair that’s been gray longer than those kids have been in banking.” Ronald laughs at his own joke. “They don’t know what they’re doing. And we’re hearing a lot of skepticism about their payment product. PayNow or whatever they’re calling it.” Ronald watches me. “Are you hearing the same?”

This is only Ronald’s usual bluster, though as he talks, the memory of the argument I overheard Seth having at the Mark Hopkins skims my mind. I can’t know for sure what that was about, and I’m shaking off the memory when I realize Ronald, Annette, and Evan are staring at me, waiting for my response to Ronald’s question.

I regroup, refusing to take Ronald’s bait. I ask for a more detailed explanation of Sofra’s planned pricing for this new product. Ronald answers, but I sense his enthusiasm has gone. He wanted to go a few rounds with me. Sparring is likely his favorite part of these meetings, and now that I’ve denied him that opportunity, he’s bored. I’m thankful when our time with Ronald is up.

When they’ve gone, Evan and I walk back to our cubes.

“You good?” he asks. “You seemed a little spaced out in there.”

“I’m fine. That guy is just tough to take,” I say, which is true even if it hadn’t been the main cause of my distraction. “Do you have time to discuss the final rewrites to the Spotlight?” Since we submitted our draft for peer review, we received feedback from Howard and other analysts. I already incorporated most of the changes, but now that Evan is back from vacation, we can finalize the report and get it to copyediting.

I’m thrilled we’re ahead of schedule; the report technically isn’t due until the end of September. I want to impress Howard with our efficiency and the quality of our work.

Evan pulls a chair into my cube and we sit side-by-side, reviewing my latest edits.

“This right here.” He puts a finger on my screen. “You’re soft pedaling with Aurelian. They have PayNow already. We heard all about it from that Russian dude at their event. And Sofra is only down the hall talking about something similar. The volume of client inquiries we’re getting on Aurelian is through the roof. Am I missing something?”

With Evan sitting next to me, I reread the copy I wrote on Aurelian. He’s right: It’s tepid. Out of a fear of saying anything about Aurelian that might potentially be perceived as biased, I wrote almost nothing concrete about the company at all.

“Okay. What about this.” I pull the laptop closer and begin to type. I quickly rewrite the Aurelian paragraph to more clearly praise the vendor’s products and vision, noting the significant interest the company is generating with Gilroy’s clients and that it has the largest installed base of any e-banking supplier we’re tracking. These are facts and I’m confident printing them.

But we could say more. Maybe I should temper Evan’s enthusiasm. He’s still too quick to believe every shiny thing he sees in PowerPoint. And while we’ve spoken to several Aurelian customer references, none were using PayNow yet.

Still, my inclination is to give Manish, Vitalik, and yes, even Seth, the benefit of the doubt. Plus, I want this report finished—ahead of schedule. We don’t have time to do more research.