“Yes,” I say. “I’ll call one right now.”
While I’m on the phone, Zandra continues to sway her hips. She is stunning. She looks over to her left. I follow her gaze. The cowboy I’d knocked out is gone. I have to assume he’s okay or I’ll be going to prison. Being this drunk and this close to Zandra, the idea doesn’t bother me much. The California Department of Corrections allows conjugal visits.
“The cab will be here in about five minutes,” I tell her. “Should we wait outside?”
She nods. We walk outside. We stop at the sidewalk. The brisk air feels good, drying the sweat on my skin and cooling me down. Zandra slowly folds up into herself, her arms getting closer and closer to her body while her head bows down.
“Do you want to wait in my car? It’s warmer,” I say. She nods quickly.
Inside my car, time seems to move faster. We’re sitting together. My hand crosses the center console. Her upper half crosses the center console. She kisses me. I can taste the wine. She’s climbing over the center console. My hands are under her shirt. Her hands are in my hair.
Her head turns. She hears something. Her hands drop away. I hear it.
Sirens. Faint, but it sounds like they’re coming closer.
It’s not strange to me. We’re not in a high crime area, but there are still robberies and break-ins. I’m not worried about it, but Zandra’s face shows a million different emotions. She pulls away from me.
She’s remembering Paris. The two of us, content in our passion, ruined by the sound of sirens.
She jerks away from me, yanking open the passenger door.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles before jumping out. I get out after her.
“Zandra,” I call out. She gestures for me to not follow her. I see the taxi pull up. I stay behind. I watch her get in. I watch the taxi leave.
I am starting to hate San Francisco.
******
After I get another taxi and lock myself in my apartment, I pour myself another glass of whiskey and turn on my laptop.
The liquor goes down easy, but everything else is stuck in my throat. Socializing with my employees should have led to more pros than cons. Knowing about their personal lives has led them to feel more comfortable informing me about company issues and more loyal to the company. But the way Zandra and I constantly turn everything into war, surrender, and retreat is becoming a mess that fucks with my head.
I log into 2Resonance’s Facebook page. Our latest update tells people to submit a band name from their college with a link to the webform. Hundreds of comments are littered underneath it:
Riley Para:Are you idiots working with the government to spy on college students? Why are you trying so hard to get more college students on board? Suspicious.
Sarah Whitmore:Big brother, constantly wanting to know where we all are.
Ed Stein:My password isn’t working :/ Please help.
Ray Maddox:Don’t do it! They just want to know where you sleep!
Steven Bush:Everyone: DELETE YOUR 2RESONANCE ACCOUNT. Even if you think it’s not a threat, they could use it later to locate you if things go to shit later.
Brendon Ferrell:I told all of my friends these guys were working for the government. Can’t trust any app.
A message notification pops up. Strangers aren’t allowed to contact us, so it must be someone the company accepted a friend request from, but it’s a rare day that we get good news from anyone. I click on it, ready to forget all of my professionalism and tear into somebody.
To Whom it Concerns,
This is Marie Conover, the publicist of the band Shadow Tradition. If you don’t recall, Shadow Tradition is local to your headquarters (they started playing gigs for other University of San Francisco students) and they caught national attention after their song, “Amber’s Luck,” was featured during a character’s death on the popular TV show, Crooked Homes. Their first album debuted at #9 on the Billboard charts. They are aware of your current publicity issue, but they are frequent users of your service and appreciate its purpose. They are interested in collaborating in a way that will be financially beneficial for your company and Shadow Tradition. If you’d prefer to talk in person, you can call my number at 415-728-4431. We hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Marie Conover.
I type Shadow Tradition into a search engine. There are 550,000 results. 85,000 people follow the band on Facebook. I check our stats on them. They have nearly 12,000 listeners in San Francisco.
