Page 94 of Forty, Flirty & Fired

“Never fall for anyone while you’re on top.”

His standard wisdom, delivered between missed dinners and forgotten promises. The same man who built Drake Technologies into an empire but couldn't show up for his own marriage.

I never understood my mother's decision to leave until recently. I'd blamed her for walking away, for choosing a new life over our family legacy. But sitting here, checking my watch like I've done for thirty years, I'm starting to see it differently.

You can only wait so long for someone to choose you back.

I snort. Guess I screwed that one up, didn’t I?

And speaking of “screwing,” that’s all I expected to hear from the guys right about now.

With three days until Christmas, the three of us should be packing our bags and heading for the bachelor cabin right about now.

Lately, the two of them have been silent—likely working.

Working is exactly what I’d be doing right now…if I weren’t brooding into my scotch. I check my watch again.

8:16.

With a sigh, I take another swig of my scotch, just as a sandy-blonde woman sidles up to the seat next to mine. She glances over, sporting the kind of smile that says I’m going to need two more scotch-on-the-rocks before this is all said and done.

I barely raise my hand to motion to the bartender before she speaks.

“Mr. Drake?” She asks, though she seems to know the answer to that.

“Yes?”

“Hi!” She reaches out a hand. “I’m Kathryn Elizabeth Acosta.” She lifts the same hand and flashes a rock on her finger. “Soon to be Mrs. Kathryn Elizabeth Waller. It’s wonderful to see you here.”

I lift my glass to my lips. “Is it?”

“Oh yes. My fiancé is a huge fan of yours. He’s meeting me here soon. Honestly. We’d wondered if we might see someone like you here at the club. Ya see, we can’t afford memberships—yet—but we’re here on a guest pass, and I just think?—“

I swallow another mouthful of scotch, tuning out the woman’s high-pitched soliloquy. I’m not usually this rude, but I can’t help thinking about patterns.

About men who build empires but can't build homes. About women who eventually stop waiting for someone to show up.

And just when my thoughts can’t get any worse, I get a message in the “Stanford Studs” group chat.

GRAYSON:Yo, A-dog, have you seen this yet?

He sends a link. A link to Mackenzie’s blog.

GRAYSON:Apparently, she’s shutting the site down. Says this is her last blog post. You might want to read this one

My jaw ticks as I stare at the screen.

Just what I need. Another take-down post that paints me as the Satan of Silicon Valley.

I glance up and notice that Miss Guest Pass is still talking.

Between the two choices, I choose the satan hit-piece.

I click on the link and start reading, my fingers gripping my glass too hard.

**What We Don’t Talk About**

There’s a conversation we’ve been avoiding in the tech world, and it starts with one uncomfortable truth: trust isn’t just a buzzword. It’s a lifeline.

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