Mark
The worst part of going on TV to announce the fact that I’m abandoning my life’s work wasn’t the interrogation from the news reporter or the fact that everyone who hates 2Resonance will watch it so they can bitch and moan about how everything I said was wrong or a lie. The worst part is that LRC put the video on the front page of their website and sent a notification out to anyone who uses their app, which means a significant number of people recognize me now and they only know me as the person who bullied his employees into finishing an attack ad and then threw in the towel when things went wrong.
I sit down at The Blue Cottage Cafe. I can’t go to Chemist’s Conclusion anymore. It belongs to 2Resonance and I don’t belong to 2Resonance anymore. Before I got here I’d packed up my office and told Elise to transfer my calls to Rick or Keegan. It’s all over.
After I order a ham and swiss melt, I can feel someone taking a photo. I can already imagine what people are writing on social media—Failure Mark Acorsi drinks a beer and eats a melt alone.Mark Acorsi: proof that family money can’t buy you success.Mark Acorsi wallows in self-pity.
But I don’t regret it. It was my own mistakes that led to this. Zandra and the rest of the employees will be able to keep their jobs. Keegan said that our stocks have modest gains. 2Resonance might struggle for a couple of months, but our users only need a decent excuse to use the service again and the company getting rid of their affluent, out-of-touch owner should be good enough for them.
I put my phone on silent as I eat my meal. When I’m done, I pull out my sketchbook. I sketch a face, which looks remarkably like Zandra’s. I try to change it into something else—an eye, a bouquet of flowers, an abstract feeling—but she keeps returning in the details.
I need something new to grasp onto. A goal or a business. I can’t spend the rest of my life wishing to undo the mistakes I’ve made.
Someone grabs my computer bag.
I lurch out of my booth, spinning around to grab the person’s arm. As I instinctively jerk them around to face me, I let her go as I see it’s Zandra.
A smile sneaks across her face. “Hey,” she says. She holds out my bag for me to take back.
I slowly grab it and let it fall back to my side. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Did you know I was going to be here?”
“You forget that 2Resonance can track people’s location,” she says. “It wasn’t that difficult to convince Julietta to track down where you are.”
I smirk. “You’re almost making me consider that Tunest was right about our service’s problem with location tracking.”
“That must be a record time for a previous business owner turning against their own company,” she teases.
“And you’re setting a record for stealing my bag.”
Zandra tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Well, I got here, and I saw your bag. It just brought me back to when we first met. I thought I could make the same mistake I made when we first met, and it might go the same as in Paris. But I don’t want it to go the same because I don’t want us to make the same mistake. I don’t want to keep going on with my life like there isn’t something between us.”
“I don’t want anything between us,” I say. As disappointment skips over her face, I drop my bag and cup her face with my hands. I close the distance between us, not leaving anything between us. I kiss her, my mouth guiding her mouth into a frenzied neediness followed by a teasing appreciation.
She pulls back from me. “You’re an asshole,” she says, but she’s smiling. “But you can make it up to me. Stay with the company. Stay with 2Resonance. It’s your company. It doesn’t make any sense for you to leave.”
I let my thumb brush against her bottom lip. “I did what was best for the company. It doesn’t need to be under my ownership. I’m letting it go.”
“It means everything to you.”
“It did,” I concede. “But after the moment I saw you, it felt significantly less important.”
For the first time, I realize the other patrons at the restaurant are watching us. I carefully guide Zandra back to my booth. She gives a few people a sheepish smile, but they seem more amused than irritated by us.
Sitting across from me, she rests her head on her hand. “I just don’t want you to go.”
“Can I ask you for something then?” I ask.
She tilts her head, interest sparking in her eyes. “Sure,” she says. “But if it’s X-rated, we might have to find a new place to do it.”
“Could that new place be Paris?” I ask. Her head jerks back in surprise. “It would be nice to create some happier memories there.”
“The memories are mostly happy,” she says. “I’d have to get some time off. But I would like that. I just have one stipulation.”
“Whatever you want,” I say quickly.
She leans forward, her abdomen pressed against the edge of the table, reminding me of when we’d had sex against her kitchen counter. “I’d just like to avoid getting arrested this time,” she says. “Do you think we can do that?”
I steal a kiss from her. “We’ll just keep all of our crimes secret.”
Her laugh makes this whole shitstorm worth it.
