“Eventually.”
“I guess that should be expected,” she says, “given that AutoInTune is currently hemorrhaging money.” Then she shoots him a withering smile, as though to sayGotcha.
Except he isn’t convinced that she has him beat. “My company’s finances aren’t a matter of public record, so you might want to check your sources.”
“Well, you might want to check Reddit, because your company’s finances are a hot topic.”
Dammit.He needs someone to scrub that goddamn Reddit thread from the internet. “You work for a dating app. You of all people should know better than to believe everything you read online.”
“I believe Orson Livingston, who commented on the thread and basically called you a sham. He’s a VC at Silicon Hills, right? Where you tried to get more funding?”
Townsend’s face must betray his surprise, because Meera grins again, encouraged.
“I talked to him a few days ago. I sent him a message, asking why he would call you out so publicly, considering you grew up together. He told me some story about a party you and your friends threw at his parents’ house in high school. You fired a paintball gun at one of their neighbors and fucked up his eye. And you never got in trouble for it.”
Townsend remembers that party, that neighbor, that horrible mistake. He’s tried to put that night out of his head, but he still remembers. He was young and stupid. Remembering what he did is punishment enough.
“Orson said he’s tired of watching assholes and liars win,” Meera continues. “And I have to say that I agree with him.”
“Who says I’m a liar?”
“Sage Clinic might, after they investigate those user metrics you provided for your company.”
“How—?” Townsend hasn’t told anyone except for his dad’s buddy, Carter Bonier, about the due diligence request and what it may potentially uncover. Not even Talia. The only person who could possibly know ... “Are you working with Amanda?”
The glint in Meera’s eyes is positively gleeful now, almost crazed. “All this time you thought you should be scared of Amanda,” she says, “but really, you should be afraid of me.”
Is this really the same woman he met through that entrepreneurship intensive at UT Austin a couple summers earlier? The chill, self-deprecating divorcée with the wrinkled T-shirts and creaky bed frame? Townsend doesn’t know what has happened in her life over the pasttwo years, but something has changed her, turned her into someone nefarious. “What did Amanda tell you? Where is she?”
“Forget Amanda,” says Meera. “I’m just taking back what is mine. You owe it to me.”
Facing off from opposite ends of the couch, Townsend studies her, looking for the chink in her armor. There’s no denying that she has more information than he would like—but would she ever actually do anything with it? He thinks of the complaints Talia has made in passing about her friend: lazy, flaky, apathetic. Not someone who would have the gumption to ruin his life, since she isn’t even willing to fix her own. “Believe what you want,” he says, “but the fact is that I don’t owe you anything. Not as my girlfriend’s friend, not as someone I used to hook up with, and not even as someone I simply pity.”
Meera’s face falls; clearly, this isn’t the response she anticipated. “Talia deserves so much better than you.”
“Right. Sure.” Townsend is fired up now, spoiling for a fight. “Don’t pretend you’re such a great friend to Talia when you’ve been lying to her, keeping our past a secret all this time. Talia is a good person. She covered for your ass at work, and this is how you repay her? From now on, you fix your own problems. Don’t expect me or Talia to bail you out.”
With this, Meera stands, a bit wobbly on her feet, and suddenly it occurs to Townsend: the brick. Could Meera have tossed it through his car window? But she can barely get off the couch; it’s hard to imagine her lobbing a brick with enough force to shatter a rear window. Once she’s successfully gotten herself on steady ground, she turns to face him.
“You’re an asshole,” she says, “and you deserve all the shit that’s coming your way.”
“I welcome it,” Townsend replies. He keeps his cool, but her words are ominous—is she talking about the collapse of his business? Amanda’s continued harassment? Or something even worse?
They stare each other down for a moment, and Townsend knows the question on her mind, because he has the same question for her:Are you going to tell Talia about this?
But neither of them voices it, and eventually, Meera leaves.
Townsend tries him twice, but the private investigator that Carter hooked him up with doesn’t answer his phone. It’s a Friday night; the guy presumably has a life. Still, it’s fucking annoying. This creep is getting a lot of money from Townsend to track Amanda down, and he needs to work faster. Clearly, Amanda is talking. Clearly, she needs Townsend to shut her up for good.
He’s just poured himself a drink (yes, he’s trying to cut back, but tonight, he needs one) when Talia calls. All he wants is an hour to himself, so he doesn’t answer; maybe she’ll assume he’s working. But after a minute, she calls again.Well, fuck,he thinks. Meera probably went and told her everything. Time to face the music.
“Hey, babe,” he answers. “Sorry I missed you the first time. What’s up?”
Her tone sounds clipped, her words rushed—not because she’s pissed, he quickly realizes, but because she’s afraid. “Townsend? You there? Please, you need—”
Silence. “Tal? Need what?”
She doesn’t respond. Instead, the phone beeps in his ear, signaling that the call has been dropped.
