“San Francisco, yes. The city we’re currently in.”
So very sassy.
“I have meetings and events to attend here, of course, but I travel quite frequently. Toothercities.”
“Sounds fun.”
“I wouldn’t call it fun, as it’s never been my life’s ambition to have fun.”
She laughs at that. A genuine, non-snorting, not-at-all-chiding sort of laugh. It’s almost as if I had said something funny. “Right. Forgot who I was talking to for a second.”
In my peripheral vision, I spot a twentysomething guy in a hoodie, black jeans, and high tops. He has bad posture and looks like he’s spent years living in a basement. Instinctively, I reach for a business card in my pocket as he approaches.
“John Brandt,” he says, holding out his hand. “Wow. Sorry—I just wanted to say hi.”
I stop to talk to him, and Olivia strolls a few feet ahead and then turns back to politely wait for me. She isn’t intrusive, but she doesn’t ignore us either. I like that.
“How are you?” I shake his hand and make brief eye contact.
“Good. Great. I’m Tim. I just wanted to shake your hand, dude, and say thanks.”
“Great.”
“Yeah, thanks to you and Brainy Biz, I’ve got an awesome job, and I just moved out of my mom’s basement, so… Hey, I’ve got an idea for a start-up. Can I pitch it to you?”
And that’s when I pull the card out of my pocket and hand it to him. “I’d love to hear about it, but I have to get my friend home, so you can email me. Looking forward to it, Tim.”
“Okay, cool. Thanks.” Tim doesn’t even look over at Olivia. He just stares down at my business card, thrilled and honoredto be holding it. “I’ll definitely email you,” he calls out as I join Olivia.
Nodding at him, I touch the small of Olivia’s back. Just barely, and only for a second. Leaning toward her, I whisper, “Sorry about that.”
She clears her throat. I think that touching the small of her back did what it was supposed to do: convey intimacy. Create the illusion that we’re a couple. Nothing untoward, but something unexpected.
She seems flustered. I like that too. “Does that happen often?” she asks.
“In the Bay Area, yes. Less often in New York, only occasionally in London. Never in Boston.”
“So you’re famous?”
“In certain circles. Not a celebrity like you, though.”
“Ha-ha. I mean, little girls ask me for my autograph after the shows, but they just hold up their notebooks to anyone who comes out from backstage.”
“That’ll change soon, I’m sure.”
She glances over at me as we walk, probably to inspect my facial expression. I was being genuine. She wouldn’t expect that from me either.
“Brainy Biz, huh?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, Nerdballs, Incorporated, was already taken.”
“Really?!”
“No.”
“Wow. Did you just make a joke? Who even are you right now?”
Grinning, I say, “I hope to give you the opportunity to find out.”
