Page 31 of Escape Girl
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Bella fidgeted inthe roomy seat and looked in wonder at the mimosa in her hand. “I can’t thank you enough for the upgrade. This is incredible!”
The first-class cabin on the plane was small, just three rows. Yeah, it was a splurge, especially for such a short flight. But I was so invigorated by this mini-adventure, I decided to start us off with a bang.
“Do you want to talk about the case? Or something else? Or should I just be quiet and leave you alone?” Bella closed her eyes in delight at the taste of orange juice and sparkling wine, and I laughed.
“The first thing I’ll work on is drafting a response to the cease-and-desist letter. We’ll decide how much information we want to include in it and request a meeting through Taggert’s lawyer.” I cocked my head at her. “You know, going on the offensive doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re going to have some sort of imminent showdown with Taggert. He may prefer that his lawyer handle everything up to the point where he’d need to be in court.”
Bella sighed and winked at me. “I know. Don’t worry. I’ll only punch him in the face inside my head.”
After takeoff, Bella fell asleep against the window. I accepted my third tea from the flight attendant and frowned at my laptop screen, where two drafts of a letter to Taggert’s lawyer sat side byside. What was the right tone here? More of a simpering “there must have been a misunderstanding and we’d like to discuss further” or an in-your-face “we vehemently disagree that you own this intellectual property”?
Since we had no real evidence yet, as a next step, I would greatly prefer a meeting instead of them moving straight to a court injunction. The softer draft would probably accomplish that, but it also started our relationship on a conciliatory tone, which I did not like. I’d prefer starting with a “don’t fuck with me” vibe, but if Taggert was as cocky as he came across from Bella’s story, he very well might file an injunction and straight to court we’d go.
I leaned back and shook my head. Didn’t need to fire off the letter when I wasn’t sure. I could look at it tomorrow with a more rested brain and decide. A ping from my email inbox made me cringe. Hopefully, it wasn’t my firm. They wouldn’t love that I’d disappeared with zero notice. Bracing myself, I looked at the new message.
It was another escape room invitation from Bobby.
He was breaking pattern again. He’d just sent the Indian Springs one last night. I opened the email to see the title:First Family Dinner. I shut it immediately. Why was he sending me another one so quickly? Because I’d exited the last one without solving it? Because he sensed that I was quitting his game and he’d decided to escalate?
I knew the night he was talking about. In November, shortly after we announced our engagement, we went out to dinner with my father and Bobby’s brother, Jamie.
I wasnotgoing to open the stupid thing and be whisked into a visual flood of troublesome memories again. But it was interesting that this was the next event in our relationship he’d chosen. The first ones had been rather obvious markers in ourbrief love story: the night we met, our first date, the night we first slept together and his proposal.
But the night we’d gone out to dinner with his brother and my dad was a different kind of night. It started off full of tension, for one thing, and not the fun sexual kind. Because both Jamie and my dad had been shocked by our engagement.
Jamie was more baffled than anything else. Bobby had always dated a lot but never seriously, and he’d never even mentioned the prospect of settling down someday. I’m sure our engagement seemed entirely out of character. I’d been disappointed that Jamie wasn’t married or dating anyone at the moment. It would have been nice to have another woman at the table, someone who could become a friend or even sisterly.
My father was less baffled and more disapproving. His exact words when I showed him my engagement ring were: “Have you lost your mind? You’ve known him five minutes.”
His words were like a slap to my happy face, and I retaliated too quickly in a way sure to hurt him. “Remind me how long you knew Mom before you proposed?”
My dad got down on one knee seven days after meeting my mother, although she made him wait three months before saying yes. As I suspected, my saucy comment ended that line of questioning. He never talked about my mom, so any subject even adjacent to her became quickly taboo.
I bottom-lined it for him. “Dad. I’m an adult. I love him. This is what I want. I’ll get a prenup.”
So off to dinner the four of us went. Ostensibly, it was to celebrate and talk about wedding plans, but really it was for Jamie to get to know me and for my father to take Bobby’s measure.
Jamie looked a little like Bobby. He had the same height and strong jawline. The same shape of eyes, although the color was a darker combination of blue and green. His hair wasbrown instead of gold and had a little white running through it. Although he tried hard to be social and carefree at dinner that night, worry lines were dug into his face, and he often checked his phone.
Jamie was famous in the tech world these days. Last year he’d given a widely viewed TED Talk about the dangers of social media. Because of that talk and because he’d created a nonprofit, SSM (Safe Social Media), Jamie had been christened “The Conscience of Silicon Valley.” Unfortunately, nonprofits struggled even in the best of times, and rumor on the street had it that SSM’s funding was running out. I suspected the lines in Jamie’s face were well earned.
In our hundreds of hours talking over the past two months, I’d tried to dig into the brothers’ relationship. “Are you close?” As an only child, I was always curious about siblings.
Bobby had grimaced. “We used to be. As kids, I mean. But we don’t have much in common anymore. He spends most of his time working and obviously, I do not.” He’d used that flippant tone I hated. The one that (poorly) masked his insecurity.
“Do you wish you were still close?”
Bobby nodded once, and I’d squeezed his hand. Maybe this was something I could do for him. Help him strengthen his bond with his brother.
At that dinner though, Jamie was the least of Bobby’s worries. “On a scale of one to ten, how much does your dad want to kill me?” he’d asked in the back seat of the Uber on the way to the restaurant.
I laughed. “Maybe a six and a half?” Bobby shuddered and I turned serious. “He’s protective, but he’s not an asshole. He just doesn’t know you, and he’s not the most trusting person. But it’ll be OK.”
And dinner was…OK. Not great. Both Jamie and my father made offhand comments about Bobby’s lack of career that Icould see ate away at him, although he parried with his charm so easily I’m sure they didn’t notice.
They also both tried to encourage us to enjoy a long engagement. “No need to rush things,” my father boomed condescendingly. “Setting the date for this time next year would be ideal.”
