Chapter Thirty-Four
The O’Haras picked the venue this time. The Parlor was a wine bar plus bookstore that had recently opened on the Lower East Side. The atmosphere was exactly how you would imagine a secret society’s meeting place might look: collegiate-inspired, sort of haunted-looking, and while there were lit candles in actual candelabras throughout the venue, it was hard to see for that very reason. There were overstuffed leather chairs arranged around a fireplace where patrons could grab a drink, buy a book, and read it by the crackling fire.
The hostess led us to a back area that astounded me with its vast size. She explained, “We just opened this area up for events and you’re our inaugural guests. Giggles comedy club behind us closed last year and we connected the buildings and converted the space.”
“Giggles?” I asked. “I thought that was a strip club. Wasn’t it called Jiggles?”
She laughed. “Wow, you remember that? Yes, before Giggles was Jiggles. Needless to say, our owner didn’t want to continue with the rhyming names.”
As we continued walking, that was all I could think about.
Wiggles.
Squiggles?
Wriggles.
Pickles?
She interrupted my train of thought. “I’ll take you to the green room, which is actually just our storage room, but with snacks.”
We passed through the main room, where the event would be held. Several rows of seats were already claimed by early arrivals, and three chairs with accompanying microphone stands had been arranged on the stage in front. Mia and Jake had just arrived, carrying several plastic grocery bags in their hands, fussing around the tables in the back. I waved hello, but they were so preoccupied that they didn’t notice.
It was more comical than anything. Thanks for blowing me off at my own event, Mia and Jake!
The green room, aka storage area, was lined with boxes of books. A few were opened and I could see copies of my title as well as the O’Haras’ new release in some of them.
After settling on a blue velvety plush chair as my resting place, I used the extra time to look over the latest notes I’d jotted down in Mia’s apartment. A wave of nausea hit me as I flipped through the pages, and a short bout of stomach pain jolted me upright. It wasn’t likely hunger or low blood sugar, since I had eaten a big lunch and had an apple and a handful of nuts and crackers just before leaving Mia’s apartment. More likely, it was anxiety manifesting again, but I ate a piece of a granola bar from my purse just in case. Wiping the crumbs from my blouse to the floor, I looked around to make sure no one saw the mess I’d created.
Ten minutes prior to the start of the event, I received a text from Mia. I’m here in the front row with Jake. If you need me to ask the first Q in the Q&A, shoot me a look
What look
IDK . . . like someone just took the last good doughnut in the box look
What???
Like you bit into a cookie thinking it was chocolate chip and it was oatmeal raisin
Cameron came bursting into the green room and scanned the area for somewhere to sit. He grumbled, “Why are there no normal chairs in here? I’ve been on my feet all day presenting to investors, all I want is to rest my weary feet and to get this event over with.”
In a formal and restrained tone, I said hello to him. He didn’t greet me back.
Cameron’s sister lagged a few steps behind, so I waved at her. The nice O’Hara.
“Hi, Mary,” I offered with genuine enthusiasm.
Cameron stomped around the perimeter, offering unsolicited commentary on all the unshelved stacks of books. “Cozy mystery? Historical romance? Are you kidding me? Where are all the real books? The business hardcovers?”
He came full circle back to his original spot. “I hope it’s okay if I go unscripted. Mary can ask the prepared questions.”
She shot him a look. “Wait, Cam, we agreed on the way here that we’d alternate questions.”
“And we will—you can ask the scripted ones, and I’ll ask whatever I want. And we’ll alternate.” He scoffed again and crossed his arms. “I’m sure she’s great at thinking on her feet. Right, Lily?”
Mary pleaded, “But, Cam. That’s not cool—”
The door swung open. “Everyone’s seated. It’s time to get started and we’re right on time. The mics are live and we’ve done a sound check, so you should be all set. Go have fun!”
A wide grin spread across Cam’s smug face. “Yes, let’s go have some fun.”
* * *
THE LAST TIME I’d seen an Asian crowd this big was at my sister’s wedding.
I raised an eyebrow at Mia while the events manager read our author bios. She looked around the room and mouthed back, “Asian invasion!” Sipping from my cup of water hid my approving smile.
There was a wide demographic representation in the audience versus our last event. Mia had done a great job making sure the crowd wasn’t stacked with only O’Hara clones. Some of these friendly, eager faces looked familiar too, but I couldn’t place them.
Mary grabbed her mic and faced the audience. “It’s great seeing everyone this evening, thanks for taking time to come here.” Turning to me, she said, “Well, a lot has changed since the last time we saw each other. When Cam heard how the press had created such a hoopla, he thought it would be a good idea to have a forum to chat openly about what’s been going on with you the last few months. So thank you, Cam, for being the initiator.”
Yes, thank you, Cameron. Let’s see what you have up your sleeve tonight.
I leaned forward and spoke clearly. “I appreciate the opportunity and look forward to your questions, as well as those from the audience.”
“So let’s get started.” Mary straightened the papers on her lap. “My first question is simple. How did you end up back at school at Carlthorpe?”
“I really missed the dining hall food,” I joked. It got a few chuckles from the audience. “But truthfully, it’s a long story. What happened to me—”
“What happened was you didn’t finish your degree, which technically makes you a college dropout,” Cam blurted into his mic.
“Is there a question in that judgmental statement?” I asked, my tone light but firm.
He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Funny. Okay then, here’s a question. Why do you have Carlthorpe listed under education in your LinkedIn profile? Isn’t that misleading? When we had our launch event with you, we included you under the assumption that we were having an event with a peer. Someone who was our equal. And what you’re doing here is fraudulent!”
I wasn’t going to let Cam steer this narrative. I’d already had enough. “I’d like to address what you’ve both said and insinuated, which is actually a lot. If you want to know what happened ten years ago, it was a miscalculation—”
“Lies. More lies.” Cam tapped his mic head into the palm of his hand. The thump-thump-thump of his fleshy fingers on the microphone interfered with my thoughts.
Mary growled, “Cam, can you please let her talk without your interrupting and mansplaining!”
The thumping suddenly stopped, so I jumped back in. “Thank you, Mary. Being short on college credits and still getting a diploma happens more often than you realize. Quite a number of people have written me to let me know they had similar stories to mine. They lost their diploma and tried to order a replacement, only to find out they didn’t fully earn their degree, resulting in their returning to campus years later to fulfill the requirements. It’s amazing that in this day and age, students can still fall through the cracks. Believe it or not, some trolls online have claimed that I made all of this up to seek attention, saying it was a cheap ploy to sell books, and that it’s too far-fetched and doesn’t actually happen to people. But they’re wrong. Like I would go through all of this on purpose?”
The crowd nodded along and hung on my words. Something shifted in Cam, his demeanor harsher than before. “Let’s move on then and talk about Solv Technologies instead.” Cam’s mouth curled into a fake smile for the audience. “It was so nice to see you in the Solv lobby. I’d love for you to share what you were doing there when we serendipitously ran into each other. I was under the impression that you were interviewing for a high-level position reporting directly to the CEO. Oh, but I was sorely mistaken.” He belly laughed so hard I thought he might choke on his own words. “You were there for an interview all right, and sources at SpottedinTheBigApple say it was for an internship. AN INTERNSHIP. I’d love for you to explain. I’ll even hand my mic to Mary, so I can’t interject.” He passed the microphone to his sister, and she yanked it so fast from his hand it made a fwwwwp! sound.
There had been no question in my mind that the Solv interview would come up, and although I was prepared for it, seeing a hundred or so people in the audience intently staring at me sent chills down my spine. My hand quivered as I pulled the mic off the stand. “Yes, you are correct. I was interviewing for an internship at one of the best tech companies in the country. I was the only non-male final candidate for their competitive internship.”
Many of the audience members were taking copious notes. Reporters maybe? Bloggers? Whoever they were, they were doing a great job at showing impartiality because their stonelike, serious faces left me in a panic. I visually scoured the room for a quick exit.
“Why were you applying for an internship when you had such a different and promising career trajectory?” Mary asked, with no ill intention in her voice.
I offered an appreciative smile. “For weeks, I kept asking myself why too. Why did I bother? Why should I explore this if I’ve already invested so many years in something else? Why does it matter? But then I realized I was framing the question wrong. What I needed to ask was, ‘Why not?’ Why not go for a job like this? Of course, I had so many doubts about even applying. But let me back up a little. When I recently found out I was a few credits short from getting my college degree, I thought I had everything to lose by making this knowledge public. So I kept it quiet, and hoped that after a few months off the grid, I could come back and life would go on as before. But it didn’t turn out that way. I took classes that weren’t available to me when I was in college and have learned so much. By going back to school, studying something new to me, I had a rare opportunity to apply for an internship at Solv because I had one of the top grades in my computer science class. Even with good grades, I still had doubts about my abilities. I thought I was too old to switch careers. I shot myself down without even giving myself the benefit of the doubt. But then I got to the final round of interviews, and it became clear that the only thing getting in my way was me. So why would I not try my best to get a job at a dream company, and see if it’s a good fit?”
I took a swig of water and looked at Cam. “The hardest interview I’ve ever had. But I got a call back for a technical program management internship role.”
Cam mumbled, “Lucky, I guess,” just loud enough for me to hear because he no longer had a mic, but there was just enough of a questioning tone in it to make my lips tug into a smile.
I addressed his comment anyway. “Well, everyone, Cam here thinks it’s luck, and I used to think it was luck too. But it wasn’t just that. I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection about what people these days call imposter syndrome, which is the opposite of what Cam might be more familiar with, a term I coined uniquely for him, ‘antagonist superiority syndrome.’ It’s where someone mediocre by most standards thinks too highly of themselves without cause or merit. It can be shortened to A.S.S.” The crowd tittered with laughter while Cam scoffed and crossed his arms.
“It was forty years ago that imposter phenomenon was first studied, at a time when more women were equalizing the workforce and finding tenure in academia. The researchers studying imposter phenomenon noted that self-doubt, especially in women, starts early. For me, it was as early as high school.” I glanced over at Mia. She formed a heart in the air with her bent index fingers and thumbs. “The research asks the question, ‘How do we undo the ritual of predicting our own failures and instead focus our energy on our successes?’ and truly, I wish we could all move in that direction, but it’s more than that. How do we undo systemic bias and racism so that marginalized people can be on equal footing? Maybe it’s less about the individual and more about workplace environments being hostile and unwelcoming and needing a cultural overhaul.”
The audience clapped. A lady in the back yelled, “Amen, sister!”
I smiled at that comment. “I’ve learned a lot about myself my second time at Carlthorpe. That being confident and believing in myself is absolutely necessary to achieve my full potential. Without doing that, in my own mind, I can never truly be enough.” I looked over to Jake, who sent warm pricks of heat through me with his coy smile. “There have been times I was too scared to try to get what I wanted, out of fear that I couldn’t have it or didn’t deserve it. But I’m taking more risks now, even trying things a second time, and seeing what happens.”
A silence fell over the room. Mary dropped Cam’s mic by my foot. She muttered, “I’m sorry, I was just shocked by how it sounded like you were in my head, Lily.”
A hum of chatter in the audience swelled so loud that I had to tap my mic to get the attention back to the conversation on the stage.
Mary asked the audience, “How many of you can relate?” Every single hand shot in the air.
Well, except Cam’s of course.
“I hope that by opening up dialogue about the workplace, and with writing books like mine, I can help in some way. To help others feel seen and less alone.”
I blushed as the audience clapped again. More amen, sisters this time too. “Related to this, I’m excited to share some new book news with you.” I glanced over at the junior publicist from Olympus Press, who gave me a thumbs-up to continue.
“My next book isn’t going to be like my previous one. It will be a memoir about my present-day journey, letting you in on my own day-to-day struggles with anxiety and the challenges I face at work. I’ll share my career exploration with you, including key findings and learnings discovered during the interview process and on the job, so you can see some of my failures as well as my successes. I also want to incorporate my personal experiences with therapy, journaling ideas, and mindfulness exercises. My editors, Amanda and Katherine, have been brainstorming and crafting chapter ideas with me, and none of this would be possible without them. The working title of the book is Type A Minus, and the main takeaway is how no one is born an expert.”
A hand in the back shot in the air. “Can we preorder that now?”
“Yes, you can! This is my official book announcement, and it’s on my publisher’s website as of an hour ago. And this indie bookstore will have signed copies on release day.”
Just when things were ending well and wrapping up, Cameron grabbed his mic off the floor. “Before we leave, I want to offer an opinion, rather than a question. I find it disgraceful that you had this career ruse going for ten whole years before that news tip finally exposed you for the fraud that you are. I hope your readers find out you’re a college dropout. Again, there’s no question there, it’s just my personal thoughts.”
I bit my lip. This was the other topic I knew Cameron would bring up today. It went without saying that this was not on the approved list of questions, like all his other rude outbursts.
Looking directly at him, I said, “I do feel bad about that and I have apologized publicly. I honestly didn’t know I didn’t complete my BA degree, and I haven’t logged in to LinkedIn in years, so I haven’t updated my bio in a long time. I’ll fix that right away. There is one thing I’d like to point out though that hasn’t been discussed yet, but now is as good a time as any. The PR job I took straight out of college didn’t require a BA or BS degree. They accepted work experience in lieu of that, which I had because of my various jobs in college. So if you think about it, it’s pretty amazing I got as far as I did, by using your own words, only being a college dropout. And I’m proud of myself for going back to school to get my college degree. It wasn’t an easy decision to make for many reasons, but I’m glad I did it. Not everyone would have the guts to go back to college ten years later with no family support and no financial safety net. Could you?”
Cameron’s mic rolled off his lap and hit the floor. I don’t think he meant to drop it, but it happened.
The events manager walked up the aisle from the back of the room. “Wow, okay, let’s end with that. Does anyone have any final questions?”
Nearly half of the audience shot hands in the air. This was going to be a long night. But for the first time in what seemed like ages, pure relief radiated through my whole body.
Jake, Mia, and Beth were waiting for me by the Parlor bar when the event ended. Tears filled my eyes as I hugged each of them.
“You really inspired everyone, I’m in awe of you,” Jake said. “We should celebrate! I have some of my own news to celebrate too, but I’ll tell you later.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And I can’t wait to hear about it.”
I turned to Mia. “Okay, so explain to me why there were so many press-type people in the audience and, separately, why the room was packed with so many Asian brothers and sisters.”
Mia laughed. “The press were there because it’s a juicy story. Popular nonfiction career author gets busted for not even having a college degree? C’mon. But how you spun it at the end, saying you did all that without a college degree and asking Cam if he’d have the guts to do it? Genius! I have a few more interviews lined up for you next week too. As for all the Asians, I sent an email to the Carlthorpe ASA alumni list. So many people showed up! I also said there’d be free food, which was all supplied by Beth. And free books, which were supplied by your publisher.”
Beth chimed in, “Mia had an idea to make an assortment of gourmet inspirational fortune cookies, with quotes from female thought leaders and pioneers from all around the world. People are scanning my fortune QR codes and putting in orders for your book! I’ve gotten a few corporate order requests from this too.”
“You are amazing, Mia. And you too, Beth. I volunteer for kitchen duty when I get home.”
I looked at Jake. “And then there’s the matter of your good news.” I reached for his hand and squeezed.
“Wait!” Mia blurted. “How about we all head back to my place and you can share the good news there? Beth can help me load up my car with the extra cookies and books left over from the event. You two go ahead, we’ll catch up. You have my key, right?”
I nodded. “Okay, I hope you have champagne or something at your apartment; if not we can pick some up on the way.”
She smirked. “My apartment is fully stocked, so no need to worry about that. See you later.”
The cold air whipped hard as Jake and I walked quickly to Mia’s apartment. My teeth chattered and my cheeks grew numb, but I hadn’t felt this alive in months. Jake offered me his thick striped scarf, which I gratefully accepted. It was nice, being enveloped by his uniquely clean, woodsy scent around my neck, but I would have rather had his arms gathered around my body, holding me close to him.
I fumbled with the building keys, and after a few attempts, we made it inside. He held the door to the elevator open; I’d never noticed how small it was until we both stepped inside and his backpack alone took up most of the space.
“Jesus, what do you have in there?” I tugged on one of his shoulder straps.
“I bought some books before the event. And I’ve also started scrapbooking.” He shot me a wry smile and wriggled his backside.
Before I could ask if he was joking or not, the rickety elevator lurched, then ascended at the speed of me crawling up five flights of stairs. My shoulder pressed into Jake’s arm because of the limited space.
“Cozy,” he whispered in my ear. I turned my body to face him.
“Very,” I agreed. “This death trap is always out of order. Now that I’ve been on it, I’m not surprised.”
The elevator approached the apartment floor. Once we got the door open, the aroma of Beth’s cookies welcomed us in the entryway. The lights were dim but I knew the layout so well I didn’t need to fumble with the overhead lights or lamp switches to make my way inside.
On the coffee table, Mia had not only laid out a plate of cured meat, hard cheese, and olives, but she also had created a dessert charcuterie board, with an assortment of chocolates, cookies, brownies, and fruit.
Jake discovered something best described as a vodka shot charcuterie board on the dining table. Two flights of spirits in tiny glasses in an assortment of colors. With adrenaline still coursing through my body after the event, I raised a glass. “Bottoms up!”
Jake grinned. “Down the hatch!”
We ate, drank, and laughed for fifteen minutes before I received a text from Mia.
Oops, sorry, not going to make it home tonight. Have fun with Dr. Jake!
I plunked down on the couch and made room. “I think we’ve been stood up.”
He sat next to me and read the text. “Or we’ve been set up.”
By this time, the vodka had kicked in and warmth spread to my entire body. I said, “I’m sorry I’m the only audience for your big news, but I promise I’ll cheer extra loud.” I put my drink down and offered him my full attention.
His eyes twinkled. “Ready? I’m leaving Carlthorpe!”
“What?” I blinked rapidly. “How is that good?”
Jake laughed. “I got official word that I graduated! You inspired me to believe in myself, is that corny? It really fueled me to work toward my goal of finishing my graduate degree and moving on. And I did!”
I grinned. “Okay, but speaking from personal experience, are you SURE you have the credits to graduate?”
After a fit of laughter, he said, “I’m positive, but honestly, because of what happened to you, I confirmed it with the registrar. I asked for a printout.”
Jake lowered his eyes. “I was invited to stay as a postdoctoral research assistant and TA through the end of the semester, but I declined. Want to know why?”
I shuddered as his breathing became heavier.
He lifted his hand to brush my cheek. “I did it so I wouldn’t have to be your TA anymore.”
“Was it really that bad being my TA?” I placed my hand on what I thought was his lower chest, but I hit a solid set of abs. Damn, Jake.
His lips curved into a playful smile. “Being your TA was definitely a conflict of interest. For two reasons. One, I didn’t want to jeopardize your chances at getting the internship at Solv. If people knew we used to date, there might be claims of favoritism.”
I sighed. “True. And the second?”
“Well, I’m definitely interested in someone in the class. She’s about your height.”
I deflected. “My height? Right now I’m maybe three feet tall sitting down.”
“Well, your height when you’re standing,” he clarified. “She also has winter accessory thievery issues, but we’re working on it.”
Jake tugged on my scarf. His scarf.
He leaned forward to loosen it.
“Hey, you let me borrow that.” I whispered in his ear, “But fine, I’ll give it back, Dr. Cho. Hey, that sounds pretty sexy.”
His eyes filled with mischief. “You want to hear something really sexy? And nerdy?”
My heart pounded inside my chest. I nodded.
He leaned in and whispered into my ear, “You’ll always have the highest priority in my queue. You always come first.”
I gulped. “So . . . are you saying you’ll show me your source code?”
Jake laughed and tipped my chin, rubbing up and down with his thumb. “Yes. Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
“How about I help?” Our bodies instinctively drew together like north-south magnets. I reached for the back of his neck, and my heart pounded as he leaned down and his lips met mine. It was a well-acquainted kiss that sent a shiver down to my toes.
My mouth parted as his lips descended on mine again with more longing and aching, this time inviting a deeper, intense, intimate closeness between us. We were different people now, and the next kiss proved it. The sweetness, timidness, and carefulness of our youth were gone. He kissed me with an intense hunger, like he’d been waiting forever and this was his only shot in the world.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he breathed. “I have more good news. I’ll be teaching at Columbia in the fall, so I’ll be in the city, and we can do this anytime you want.”
I unraveled his scarf, and like a lasso, wrapped it around his wrists.
“I like where this is going,” he said.
I motioned for him to follow me to Mia’s bedroom. She wouldn’t mind. In fact, she wanted this to happen.
The bed was made, there were LED tea light candles on her windowsills, and Janet Jackson’s “That’s the Way Love Goes,” was playing on her Bluetooth speakers.
I pushed him onto the bed. “Wait there. One second.”
Mia wouldn’t be home anytime soon, but just in case, I locked the door.