“I saw a text conversation between him and his sister pop up on his phone the other day. He was asking her about their grandmother’s engagement ring.” Talia pauses, as though just hearing Meera’s response. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘already’?”
“It just seems kind of soon, don’t you think?” Hoping to defuse the tension, Meera adds, “But remember, this is coming from the divorcée. I’m a bit jaded.”
Talia’s eyes narrow. “A bit? You might be the most jaded person I know.”
The hostility in Talia’s voice surprises Meera. “I’m just saying, this is all happening kind of fast. How well do you even know Townsend?”
“I know him better than anyone. Certainly better than you, who does nothing but judge him.”
“Did you ever consider that I might have reason to judge him?”
“Because he made one mistake?”
“I’m not talking about him cheating on you.” Meera pauses. She hadn’t meant to let the conversation get this far. Talia blinks at her, clearly wondering where she’s going with this. Meera doesn’t have to tell her friend everything, she decides. She can tell Talia just enough to plant a seed of doubt. “Two summers ago, before you ever met him, Townsend and I took an entrepreneurship course at UT together. I told him about an idea I had for a health care start-up, and he took it from me.”
“Wait—what? You two knew each other? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” The expression on Talia’s face isn’t one of betrayal so much as confusion.
“That’s not the point, Tal. The point is that he’s a thief. He stole the idea for AutoInTune from me.”
Talia hesitates, then asks, “Did you have articles of incorporation?”
“What? No, I—”
“Did you file for a patent? A copyright? Because it sounds to me like you’re just bitter that Townsend was actually able to make something happen. You can’t blame him for your failures.”
Meera flinches. “I’m not blaming him for—”
“You’ve always been so territorial. I mean, you have one fleeting idea, and so no one else is ever allowed to pursue something similar?” Talia scoffs. “And you probably think he stole me from you too.”
It’s true; she does feel like Townsend snatched her best friend away. But she’s not going to give Talia the satisfaction of knowing she’s right. “Fine. Even if you ignore the fact that he took my idea, he created a company that’s not even legitimate, Talia. This VC at Silicon Hills thinks he’s inflating his user metrics. And you know the telehealth company that wants to partner with him? Hari works there, and I’m thinking about telling him—”
“You just hate to see me happy with someone else,” Talia interrupts. She doesn’t seem to have heard Meera at all. “You loved it when Townsend left me, because it meant we could be miserable old spinsterstogether forever. I ruined your plan, and now you have no choice but to admit how empty your life is.”
It no longer matters that Meera paid twenty-six dollars for her stupid drink; she downs the rest of it in one gulp. “I don’t have to be in a romantic relationship for my life to have meaning. I’d much rather be a miserable old spinster forever than stake my self-worth on a man, like you’ve done time and time again.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it, though? You followed your ex to college. You told me you only moved to Austin because he broke your heart and you needed to distance yourself. It seems like every major life decision you’ve ever made has had to do with a guy.”
A server comes by the table, eyeing their drained glasses. “Can I get you ladies another round?”
Meera and Talia answer in unison: “No.”
Once the server retreats, Meera takes thirty dollars from her wallet, drops it on the table, and stands. “If you’ll excuse me,” she says icily, “I have an empty house to return to.”
Talia stays seated. “You’re wrong about Townsend, and you’re wrong about me.”
Meera takes a final look at her friend, pretty and doe-eyed and filled with more animus than she ever realized. She wonders when they’ll speak again, if ever. “I hope I’m wrong,” she tells Talia. “But I don’t think I am.”
As soon as she leaves the bar, she shoots a quick message to Hari.
I need you to do me a favor.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Talia
Talia is leaving her early bird Pilates class on Monday when she sees it for the sixth time since last week: the matte black Ford Taurus with the darkly tinted windows, parked—as always—right alongside her Volkswagen Jetta.
