Chick Flick by Noga Porat

Author:Noga Porat [Porat, Noga]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Morgan James Publishing
Published: 2018-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

I was still mulling over the call when Lauralynn called to ask if I wanted to accompany her to a party that evening.

“There are going to be lots of interesting folks there,” she said. “Maybe some people you’d hit it off with for Spells. Plus, you’ve been working so hard, you can probably use the distraction!”

I was quite thankful for the invitation and I didn’t hesitate.

I had made a conscious decision to really let loose that night, and I was so glad I did. The party was a blast; delicious barbeque and cakes towered over tables, while the fine wine flowed like water and everyone was dressed to the nines.

Lauralynn got a kick out of introducing me to her friends.

“Have you met Scarlet? She’s the chick sexy girl!” she’d say, and guffaw at their reaction. People always wanted to know more. “You can come to my office and pay $376 an hour to hear more about it.”

I was all for it; I loved to talk about my research, after all. But such an introduction probably would make them think they were in for a very different explanation.

I learned pretty quickly that I was rubbing elbows with the elites of our city’s society. There was the scion of the real-estate entity, a tall and curly young man, just out of school, having finished his master’s degree and looking to obtain a Ph.D. in a scientific field. His father, who owned the highest skyscraper in the city (among many other properties), had sent him to the party to sniff out potential investment opportunities. Another real-estate tycoon talked my ear off about the four Jaguars he owned, his hotels, and his various properties. He also had a lot of patents, as he bought them as investments.

“If yours is for sale,” he said, looking me up and down, “I’ll gladly buy it.”

He toasted me with a glass of wine, and told me his name, although I just thought of him as Bob the Apartment King, on account of the various apartments he claimed to own throughout the city. (“Just put your finger on a map, and I’ve got one nearby. Come and visit.”) He gave me his business card and said he had a lead on some warehouse and lab spaces for rent; I thought that might be useful, so I slid it into my clutch.

“Let me know if you reconsider about that patent,” he said.

It was an exciting night and a great crowd. I think Lauralynn had met most of the people she knew there on social networks. I caught myself wondering if anyone there knew William. While I was dancing to some ’80s pop, I looked across the room and locked eyes with none other than Roseword.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the lab?” he asked, smiling. He seemed more relaxed than I’d ever seen him before.

“Oh, sure, that’s all I do,” I said, playfully mocking him. “I’m in the lab 24/7. Hey, did Todd give you the

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