The same day
10:08 a.m.
“Brady, so wonderful to see you again.” The woman—make that girl, since she had to be at least six years younger than Bettina—greeted Brady with a kiss on the cheek.
Brady chuckled. “Olivia Morris, you look as ravishing as ever.”
Ravishing? Why, with that face and bone structure, she should be walking some fashion runway, Bettina thought jealously. Is that Oscar de la Renta she’s wearing?
But of course it was. The tomato red sleeveless tweed sheath fit her like a glove.
Bettina glanced down at her own frock and frowned:
Whereas I look like a blimp in a tent.
Brady motioned to his tech team—two man-boys so unassuming that Bettina had already forgotten their names. Not a problem, since she’d already dubbed them Frick and Frack—both of whom fell over each other in their attempt to shake Olivia’s hand. Then Brady nudged Bettina forward. “I’d like you to meet my business partner, Bettina Connaught Cross. She came up with this interesting concept that has your partners, Abe McWhorter and Zeb Lerner, so interested.”
“Connaught…Cross?” The woman turned her gaze on Bettina. “That name sounds so familiar. Maybe our paths crossed at Stanford?”
“No, sorry, I’m a Wellesley girl,” Bettina demurred. Oh, hell! Don’t tell me Art burned her too! I swear, he’s my own personal Beelzebub…
Olivia shrugged. “I’m sure the connection will come to me.” She pointed in the direction of a long wide hallway. “Shall we? Abe and Zeb are waiting in my office.”
To Bettina’s mind, Olivia was quicker than any woman had a right to be while strapped into thirteen-hundred dollar four-inch Roger Vivier pearl-fringed sling-back sandals. Even in flats, Bettina’s girth had her breathing too heavy to do anything but bring up the rear.
Realizing this, Brady slowed down enough to stay at her side.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she muttered.
“Sure you can. You’ve always scared the shit out of me. Just be yourself.”
He grinned.
She stuck out her tongue.
Game on.
Zeb Lerner tapped thoughtfully on the rough-hewn Sequoia stump that served as AOZ Venture Capital’s humongous conference room table. “Let me get this straight: you think that people are so worried about having a little interaction with San Francisco’s homeless population that they’d want an app to warn them when one is nearby?”
Brady tented his fingers thoughtfully in front of him. “Our guess is yes.” Leaning back in his ergonomically orgasmic conference chair, he added, “I presume you think so too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this meeting.”
Frick and Frack nodded slightly as they scribbled on the pads in front of them, but kept their mouths shut.
Zen. Be perfectly zen, Bettina warned herself. Brady’s got this.
Olivia’s laugh was as delicate as a wind chime. “Well, now that we’ve established that the homeless creep us out, sell us on your app.”
“The stats speak for themselves,” Brady assured her. “How many homeless would you guess are here in San Francisco?”
Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three thousand?”
“Around seven thousand,” Brady exclaimed.
Olivia frowned. “That’s a big number. How will we be able to identify them all?”
“Not to worry, Olivia. At present, we’re not looking to track specific homeless individuals. With approximately seven thousand, that would quickly become overwhelming,” Brady assured her. “Instead, the app will steer subscribers away from areas where those less fortunate might congregate: say, soup kitchens, missions, and SRO hotels or thrift shops that work with churches and city social services. Additionally, subscribers will be encouraged to use the app’s real-time source sharing. For example—”
Brady nodded at Frack, who tapped at his iPad. A second later, a map of the city appeared on the monitor on the far side of the conference table.
Brady used a laser pointer to highlight some of the streets around the city’s recognized center: Union Square. “Concurrently, the goal is to allow subscribers to map the best way to arrive from point A to point B, with as little contact with the homeless as possible. You’ll note that every block has been given a letter rating. Those listed as “F’s” indicate ones to steer clear of, since odds are you’ll encounter homeless who panhandle. You’ll find fewer encounters on blocks marked D or C—perhaps more sleepers than screamers—but you’ll still have some contact. And, of course, the most ideal blocks are indicated by the letter A. And just like the traffic app, Waze, our subscribers will share tips on the best routes by pinning a block—heck, even a specific doorway—with an accoster,” Brady continued.
“We’ll also allow comments and suggest a shorthand,” Bettina chimed in enthusiastically. “In fact, one of our developers has already come up with certain terms. For example, PH for panhandler. NJ for nut job—”
Brady kicked her under the table.
She winced, but didn’t scream out.
Abe chuckled. “I like it! With this app, the whole world is our oyster!”
Bettina dimpled up. “What you mean to say is that with this app, the world is our bum-free zone—if we know which path to take.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Is that what you envision calling it, ‘Bum Free Zone’?”
“It’s…a working title,” Brady assured her.
Olivia’s eyes shifted to him. “Thank goodness, because that term might be a hard-sell! It’s socially uncomfortable, to say the least.”
Bettina raised a brow. “To whom? Bleeding hearts who are still using their iPhone 4’s because they’re afraid that tossing it means more toxic tech devices in our landfills? Certainly not the product’s core target market—which, I assume, includes you and me: women who love this city, live in the city, and bemoan the fact that with each passing week it becomes less of a walkable city. We want to be able to stroll safely to the city’s wonderful restaurants, shops, museums, and theaters, the ballet, and symphony.” She smiled wickedly. “Better than a stun gun, the BFZ is the best safety app a woman can have! In fact, we’ve considered bundling it with a stun gun app—”
Brady kicked her again.
In return, she dug her heel into his ankle.
He bit his lip to keep from groaning.
“I’m sure the same could be said about any walkable metropolis: Manhattan, Chicago, London, Paris, or Rome,” Bettina added.
Olivia shrugged. “We’ll still have to work hard to head off any backlash from those who see the homeless as part of the city’s social fabric.”
Bettina rolled her eyes.
Abe winked at her.
At least he doesn’t have a stick up his ass like that Olivia person, she thought.
Brady snapped his fingers suddenly, as if a thought just occurred to him. “I just thought of a secondary market application. Simply by adding Facial Recognition software, the BFZ becomes a wonderful tool for any city’s social services department to locate its clients—ostensibly, for their own safety.”
Brady nodded again to Frack, who clicked a few more buttons.
Three glowing dots—two blue ones and one pink one—appeared on the monitor, alternatively flashing names and the photos Bettina had taken. A blue one entitled “Sneaky Pete” was making its way down Geary Street toward Glide Memorial Church. The pink dot, which flashed the name Ugly Betty, sat still on the lawn in front of San Francisco City Hall. The other blue dot, named Dirty Hairy, was across the street inside the San Francisco Library.
“Currently, we’re tracking three subjects—two men and a woman—who have chosen street life as their prerogative. Over the past four days, these subjects have been rated by the number of times they’ve panhandled, or otherwise accosted the general public. The higher the rating, the more contact.” Contritely, Brady added, “I would imagine that the city would appreciate a way to identify those who may not already be receiving social services, but are so desperate for help that they are forced to beg for it.”
Bettina rolled her eyes skyward.
“Certainly, San Francisco is a perfect test case for its municipal application. In fact, we have ties to the mayor,” Zeb piped up. “We can position it to him and his people before the launch so that they’ll get behind it too.”
Abe stood up. “Who else are you talking to?”
Brady smiled. “We’re meeting with Beidecker at two today.”
Zeb, Olivia, and Abe exchanged frowns.
Olivia turned to Brady. “We’ll call you by one. Maybe save you a trip out to Marin.”
He shrugged. “As long as it isn’t rush hour, the Golden Gate Bridge isn’t a hassle. And, let’s face it, who here wouldn’t mind running our business from a waterfront Belvedere mansion with a straight-on city view?” Brady shook Olivia’s hand.
Olivia then turned to Bettina. She gave her a hug instead.
Taken off-guard, Bettina hugged her back.
As Olivia pulled back, a funny look crossed her face. “Ah! Now I know where I’ve seen you: I applied for admission to the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club with my daughter, Jezebel.” She frowned. “We were rejected. I’d heard the club didn’t take working mothers, but I didn’t believe it was possible, what with all the discrimination laws on the books. Not to mention that sort of thinking is so outdated! My husband wanted to sue, but I talked him out of it.”
“We have working mothers in the club,” Bettina assured her coolly. “How old is your child?”
“She’ll be three next month.”
“In fact, earlier this year we expanded enrollment. By all means, you should reapply.”
Olivia smiled. “I think I will. If other mothers are as creative as you, it may be a wonderful incubator for other ventures.”
Brady laughed. “I’ll say it is! This is my fourth deal with a club member.”
Hearing that, Bettina frowned.
Still, she waited until they were safely outside AOZ’s building before punching Brady’s arm. “Oh, yeah? What other moms are you representing for deals?”
Brady shook his head. “Bettina, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”
Noting her scowl, he added, “If it’s any consolation, you’re a natural at this sort of pitch. Maybe you were meant to lord over someone other than just mommies and toddlers.”
She shrugged. Maybe he was right.
Certainly, she could get used to this sort of life.
Also 10:08 a.m.
“I thought you looked familiar,” Caleb shouted at the only other man in the Moscone Community Center tot lot: Christian, who was making sure that Zoe and Oliver played nicely on one of the toddler see-saws—which meant making sure Oliver didn’t attempt a kamikaze dive while Zoe was hanging in mid-air.
Christian narrowed his eyes at the stranger with the two little girls. Finally, he opened his eyes wide in recognition. “You’re Jillian’s fiancé, right?” He took Caleb’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Thanks for that very thoughtful wedding gift. We can always use a gift card to Octavia.”
Caleb chuckled. “Yeah, well, Jillian said you’re a great cook, but we figured you would appreciate a night out.” As Christian swung Zoe off the seesaw, Caleb pointed toward the community center. “Aren’t you going to the PHM&T meet-up?”
Christian frowned. “Who…me? I know Ally mentioned something about having to miss it this morning, but I thought those gatherings were just for moms.”
Caleb shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t think Lorna would mind if we crashed it. In fact, Jillian texted her with a heads-up that I’d be there.”
Christian grabbed Oliver’s hand before he had a chance to throw sand in Zoe’s eyes. “Sure, okay. And I’m sure the kids would prefer it. I guess there’s safety in numbers.”
“My thought exactly,” Caleb murmured. He whistled for the girls. “This way, ladies! It’s not a party until we get there.”
The girls ran almost as fast as Oliver, but not quite.
Cupcakes. And Nespresso. Lorna came prepared to win everyone over.
She made sure she was the first one through the door, and greeted everyone by asking if her new year had started out wonderfully.
The mothers clustered by their children’s age groups, dropping their children on the long colorful mats in order to grab a cup of coffee and the bite-sized sweets for both themselves and their children. Then the mothers each took one of the chairs lined up in concentric half-moons around the table holding the refreshments. Lorna had wheeled a white board behind the table. She had just asked Sally Dunder to call the roll when Mallory growled, “What are those men doing here?”
Lorna followed Mallory’s gaze to the last row of chairs, where Caleb and Christian sat, juggling coffee cups, cupcakes, and two hungry toddlers apiece.
Recognizing them, Lorna waved half-heartedly. “Gentlemen…nice to see you.”
Mallory sat close enough to pluck a cupcake from Christian’s hand. “Beat it. This is a closed meeting.”
He grabbed it back from her. Pointing to Zoe, he added, “I know, doll— The Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club. Zoe Thornton and Oliver Pierce are members.” He batted his lashes, as if to say, touché.
Mallory yanked the cupcake back from him. This time, she crumbled it in her fist. “But you’re not. You don’t have the right equipment.”
“Mallory—please!” Lorna begged. “He’s here with a child who is a member!”
“But it’s against the rules,” Kimberley pointed out indignantly.
“Maybe it’s time to change the rule,” Caleb countered. “Dads are people too, you know.”
“If we allow fathers to participate, it won’t be the same club anymore!” Sally stammered. “They’ll…know what we say about them.”
“So, we’ll have to learn to watch our p’s and q’s—just like our children.” Kelly smiled wickedly. “Maybe Lorna has a point. Allowing fathers to participate—to bond with their children and their children’s friends on the playground or in their classes—is only natural.” Slyly, she winked at Caleb. Turning back to Lorna, she asked innocently, “Why don’t we vote on it?”
“Bite your tongue,” Mallory growled. “Bettina would hit the roof if she heard such blasphemy!”
“But Bettina isn’t here—too common an occurrence lately,” Kelly countered. “And the rest of us are—oh, except for a few of the Top Moms. Obviously, Ally Thornton and Jade Pierce are AWOL”—she pointed at Zoe and Oliver—“as is Jillian Frederick.” Her hand swept in the direction of Caleb, Addison, and Amelia.
Hesitantly, Shoshanna, one of the Onesie Top Moms, raised her hand. “Lorna, frankly, I don’t see how it would hurt if some of the fathers were allowed to pinch-hit every now and then.”
“See?” Kelly smiled grandly. “Maybe there’s some merit in letting our men attend after all—at least enough to put it to a vote.”
Lorna winced. This wasn’t at all how she envisioned the meeting would go today. For once, Mallory was right. Bettina would be livid. Still, it was Bettina’s decision to stay away today. And Lorna’s primary objective was to allow the other moms more say-so in how the club was to be run. This was certainly a perfect example.
She sighed. “Agreed. Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of allowing fathers to substitute for mothers during meet-ups, raise your hands.”
At first, the hands went up tentatively. Still, only three hands stayed down: Mallory’s, Sally’s, and Kimberley’s.
And then Kimberley’s arm went up as well.
“The motion has passed,” Lorna declared. “Gentleman, welcome!”
Caleb high-fived Christian.
It must have smarted because Christian yelped.
“Ladies—and gentlemen, we have a few other items on the agenda before we break into playgroups.” Lorna pointed to the topics she’d already written on the board: the nine major holiday functions, including the pumpkin patch, the after-Thanksgiving potluck, Santa’s workshop at the Fairmont, the children’s Valentine Party, the parents’ Valentine Party, the Easter Egg Hunt, Mother’s Day luncheon, Father’s Day cookout, and the Fourth of July picnic. To that, she added the club’s fundraiser: a cookbook sell-a-thon.
Under all of this, she wrote ADVANCED PLACEMENT CLASSES in big letters.
“I’d like the twenty Top Moms—four for each of the five age groups—to draw for a division of the following duties. You’ll choose two events, and you’ll also coordinate the advanced placement classes for your age group.”
“But…isn’t that something Bettina likes to do? You know, assign tasks, and decide the classes for everyone?” Sally asked.
“We’ve expanded the Top Moms committee for just this reason: so that each group can have more say-so as to their children’s activities, and contribute to the club as a whole,” Lorna explained. “It’s why we’re all here: to enjoy each other’s company and to contribute.” She held up a bowl that held tiny slips of paper. “A Top Mom from each group should step forward and draw two slips, which will name their event assignments. As for the classes, feel free to discuss possible choices within your group. Of course, depending on what you decide, you’ll get an appropriate share of the budget raised from the last fundraiser.” She glanced at Shoshanna. “Why don’t you draw first for the Onesies?”
Eagerly, Shoshanna stepped forward and slipped a hand into the bowl. “Oh! We’ve got the Easter Egg hunt!” The mothers in her group murmured appreciatively. “And our second event is the pumpkin patch.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Mallory muttered.
Lorna sighed. “Mallory, why don’t you draw for the Foursies.”
Mallory shrugged before stepping forward and sticking her hand in the bowl. She frowned at her first draw. “Santa’s visit.”
“YES!” Angus shouted through a mouthful of cupcake.
Ha! Good, thought Lorna. Now, she’ll have to corral him herself.
Mallory’s second pick was the cookbook fundraiser. She snapped her fingers at the other three Top Moms. “Group effort,” she warned them.
They rolled their eyes.
“Kelly, why don’t you choose for the Twosies?” Lorna asked.
Kelly sauntered toward the bowl and reached in. She smirked. “Well, well, we’ve got the Adult Valentine’s Party!” She took another slip. “And the Father’s Day cook-out.”
“Since that’s our group, I’ll wrangle some of the Twosies dads to help out,” Caleb assured her.
That drew an appreciative murmur from the moms.
Kimberley drew the Mother’s Day luncheon and the After-Thanksgiving potluck.
That left Sally’s group–the Fivesies—with the Fourth of July picnic, and the children’s Valentine’s party.
“I’m sure each of you will wow us with your creativity for these events,” Lorna announced.
Kelly’s claps started an avalanche of applause.
As the group dispersed to their playground perches, Kelly walked over to Lorna.
Kelly started by Patting Lorna on the back. “Well done, fearless leader! You’re certainly more open-minded than Bettina. Truly refreshing.”
“Thank you, Kelly.” Lorna blushed, but she didn’t smile.
She still holds the kiss I gave Matthew against me. Makes sense. Now, let me see if I can make it work for me.
Kelly took a step back. Making her voice tremble, she added, “You know, Lorna, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Lorna nodded, but said nothing.
“I owe you an apology,” Kelly continued.
Lorna raised a brow. “You mean, for flirting with my husband at Bettina’s New Year’s Eve party last year—and then kissing him?”
“Yes, certainly for that.” Kelly clawed her fist. It had the desired effect: it brought tears to her eyes.
“You can’t really blame me, can you? Besides the fact that Matthew was my childhood crush, he turned out to be the most loving husband imaginable—someone those of us in less-than-happy marriages can’t help but envy.” She dabbed away a tear.
Lorna gently touched her shoulder. “I hadn’t realized you and Peter were having trouble.”
“Were?” Kelly sniffed. “Nothing has changed in the past year, believe me. You don’t know how lonely you can be until you marry a workaholic.” Kelly hoped her lips quivered enough. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a husband who’d much rather spend every waking moment with you.”
“Yes, I guess we are lucky that we get to spend so much time together,” Lorna conceded. “He spends as much time with Dante as me, especially now that I’m co-Chief Executive Mom with Bettina.” Lorna rubbed her belly. “I know he’ll be wonderful with the twins as well.”
Time to go in for the kill.
“I’m so glad you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” Kelly murmured. “You know, when Bettina and I were growing up, we used to be the best of friends. All the more reason I was shocked and hurt last year when she pitted us against each other in some twisted version of Onesies ‘Hunger Games.’ I just couldn’t understand why she felt threatened by you, the one person who could be a natural ally to her!” Kelly shrugged. “I thought that perhaps you’d done something to earn it. But from what I can see, you’re doing what you can to help her keep the club together, despite the turmoil Art—and for that matter, Bettina—has brought upon it.”
“I appreciate your kind words, Kelly.”
“It’s more than just lip service,” Kelly assured her fervently. “If there are other actions you feel are important for saving the club, please know that I have your back. And I’m great at twisting arms when need be.”
Lorna laughed uneasily. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but I appreciate the offer.”
As she turned to erase the whiteboard, Kimberley sidled over to Kelly and hissed, “Pssst! Just wondering, the invitations went out okay, right?”
Scowling, Kelly shoved her out of the room. “Why would you even ask? Don’t you trust me?”
Kimberley backed away. “Of course I do! It’s just that—well, you pretty much left me with nothing else to do for it. If there’s any way I can help—”
“You can help by keeping your big yap shut,” Kelly warned her. “Just show up at the Palace at exactly two twenty-five, so that you’re there to greet your guests.” She pinched Kimberley hard on her arm. “Get it?”
“Yes! I get it!” Kimberley gasped.
Kelly let go.
Kimberley didn’t dare look down at the bruise.
She wondered how she’d explain it to Jerry.