Meet Me in Silicon Valley Read online

  Meet me in Silicon Valley

  The Juliette Trilogy

  BOOK 1 - THE PRINCESSES OF SILICON VALLEY

  By Anita Claire

  Meet Me in Silicon Valley

  Anita Claire

  Copyright 2014 by Anita Claire

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  My editor Lisa Cerasoli and I have spent many hours polishing this book to eliminate any grammatical or punctual errors. That said there are always style differences and mistakes that escaped our eyes; I apologies up front for any of these errors. Our goal has been to create for you an enjoyable and flawless experience.

  Editing by Lisa Cerasoli

  Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.,http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

  Text copyright © Anita Claire 2014, All rights reserved

  Chapter 1

  I’m jarred awake by Cassie’s fancy new speaker system. Ugh. Cassie, my roommate, was out partying and brought home some guy. My eyes are closed, but I’m awake in bed. My sister warned me not to move in with Cassie. She said Cassie would make a terrible roommate since right after a divorce many women go through a promiscuous, wild period. My sister can never say anything nice, so I disregarded her advice. Now I’m regretting that decision since I really need my sleep. Sneaking a look at my phone, I see it’s 2:17 a.m. I don’t want to be dragging tomorrow. Should I go into the living room and ask her to turn the music down? The low rumble of a man’s voice—alongside her higher pitched laughing—reverberates through the walls into my room.

  Not wanting to go out there since I look a mess in my oversized T-shirt, pajama pants—not to mention bedhead—I close my eyes as I contemplate my next move. Our upstairs neighbor, Charlie, will complain; that way I don’t have to be the shrew. Maybe I could fall back asleep with all the noise. Not having to wonder for long, I hear heavy banging on our front door.

  Charlie yells, “It’s two o’clock in the morning, turn that thing down!”

  This interrupts the party. Even though I’m not able to make out the words, I know my roommate is grumbling, but the music stops. One less conflict for me to deal with. Phew.

  The party moves from the living room to her bedroom, which is right next to mine. I spoke too soon. Ugh, do I really need to hear them having sex? All I want to do is sleep.

  All too soon, my alarm rings. It’s 5:50 a.m. I’m meeting my friend Meredith for a run. Time to get dressed and get moving. Throwing off my pajamas and the oversized-T, I pull on my running shorts, sports bra, and top and head into the bathroom. While leaning over the sink to spit out my toothpaste, the door opens. Turning my head, I get an eyeful of naked male—as in full frontal nudity. Yes, a cock shot.

  A gravelly male voice says, “oh, sorry,” as he recloses the door.

  For about a minute, I’m paralyzed. That was a rather shocking wake-me-up visual. My roommate, Cassie, has the master bedroom, so I never remember to lock my bathroom door. Once I finish brushing my teeth, I grab my sneakers, maneuver through our dark condo, and run outside so I can meet up with Meredith.

  Meredith and I have been friends since we were eighteen. She is an inch taller than me at 5’ 5”. Meredith has navy blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair. Our freshman year of college there were seven of us that went to the school’s Halloween party as princesses. At the time, Meredith’s hair was down to her waist. She also had a tendency to refer to her stepmother as her evil step monster. Of course, she went as Cinderella. My hair is very dark brown, my skin is pale, and my eyes are brown. I was Snow White. Six years later, and I’m still tight with this group of women. We jokingly refer to ourselves as The Princesses to this day—and at times refer to each other by our princess names. A few weeks ago, when I moved in with Cassie, I was thrilled to learn that over the summer Meredith and her boyfriend, Sam, had moved only a block away from me.

  We meet up about halfway between our apartments. After greeting each other with our typical sleepy “morning,” we head out on our five-mile loop. We run down the middle of the road because every fourth lot of this tree-lined street has construction—the downside of living in a booming town.

  About a mile in, I tell Meredith, “Cassie came home at 2 a.m. with some guy. I sort of got to meet him this morning.”

  “Yeah? How’d that go?”

  “I sure got an eyeful.”

  She gives me the “there’s a story here, are you going to share?” look and says, “So, is he cute?”

  “Well um, he has dark hair…”

  “Juliette, to what are you alluding?”

  “He walked into the bathroom when I was bent over the sink. I got a perfect, full frontal. It kind of freaked me out.”

  She gives a quick chuckle, “So...is he well endowed?”

  “That’s your question?” I respond in horror.

  “Well, it’s not like I can ask if he has nice eyes.”

  “Ahh, I really have no interest in looking at strange guy’s private parts.”

  “You and Cassie were high school friends, right?”

  “Yeah, friends since kindergarten; I’ve always thought of her like a sister. It just worked out that we both were moving back to this area at the same time. Her parents were in the process of putting her grandmother in an extended care facility. They had Cassie move into her recently vacated condo—which was good timing for me since Cassie’s parents wanted her to have a roommate.”

  “Besides this incident, how’s Cassie as a roommate?”

  “Good…and strange at the same time. Our last six years’ experiences have been diametrically opposed. We have a very different way of looking at the world. I guess the jury’s still out if living with Cassie is one of my better decisions.”

  Meredith looks at me and nods in agreement and understanding.

  After my run, I grab my work clothes and head into the bathroom for a shower, making sure I lock the door. Pulling on my favorite clothes, I dress in skinny jeans, a girly, long sleeve T, and a new pair of black knee-high riding style boots. I’m relieved that there are no additional full frontal nudity surprises. By 7:30 a.m., I’m at the office.

  Chapter 2

  I work at a Silicon Valley software start-up developing analytical tools for managing big data in cloud computing. Yes, it sounds as geeky as it is. One of the perks at my company is a free cafeteria. Starting my day, I head directly to that cafeteria—which looks more like a hip restaurant. Saying “hi” to Mario, who mans the breakfast counter, I grab a plain Greek yogurt with granola. After filling my water bottle up with herbal iced tea, I head to my desk. Getting in early is great since most of the people on my team pull in at around ten or eleven, giving me three to four hours of privacy.

  My company has this crazy idea that an open environment facilitates communication and team building. This idea had to be dreamed up by some executive with a big office, and a door that closes. The floor I work on is broken up into large areas that house about twenty engineers in an open environment. A wall of conference rooms—rooms with copiers and cold drink dispensers, or offices where the managers sit, separates each area. An open office is really distracting since I overhear and see everything that’s going on. Having people look over my shoulder when I work is disconcerting. At about 10:00 a.m., I take a break so I can stretch my legs by walking a lap around the exterior of my building. On the way back to my desk, I stop at the cafeteria to top off my water bottle with more herbal iced tea.

  By now the office is starting to fill up. Pass
ing by Hairy Ian, I shiver, and not in a good way. Hairy Ian works in my area. He’s about sixty pounds overweight and pasty white with lots of red hair all over his body. I know this because he always wears a white wife beater and running shorts. He’s the physical equivalent of too much information. Inevitably, I scream silently to myself every time I pass him. Cover up your body, why do I have to look at that? On the path to my chair, Buddy, a fellow engineer’s German shepherd, comes bounding up. I grew up with dogs. I really like them, but Buddy drives me crazy because he always says hi by sticking his nose in my crotch.

  Then there’s Creepy Tom. Creepy Tom is always staring at me. He’s a big guy with a goatee and a lot older than me. Plus, he’s married with a couple of kids. My goal is to avoid Creepy Tom. It’s disconcerting to have him in the same work area. Last week while I was getting a can of juice out of the drink dispenser, he came up real close behind me…and I think he attempted to sniff my hair. Next place I work, I’m going to make sure they have cube walls that go up to the ceiling. I don’t want to see these guys; I don’t want them looking at me, and don’t need be within sniffing distance.

  Now that the office is filling up, I put ear buds in. My Droid is tuned to my favorite Pandora channel; it allows me to focus back on the simulation I’m working on. So far, the ten engineers on my development team work well together. We all have a strong mathematical background. Two other engineers on my team are big-time San Francisco baseball fans. In the month I’ve been here, I have learned a lot of baseball statistics. Before joining this group, I didn’t even know what an RBI was. Now I know who leads the team and what their RBI score is. As I try to focus on what I’m working on, I use my music to block out the office noise. Even so, I can still hear the animated conversations debating and discussing baseball statistics all around me.

  At 11:50 a.m., I get an internal IM from Hita—the only other women in this section of the floor: Ready for lunch?

  Looking up and across the open desk plan, I see Hita is watching me as I nod. Lifting my index finger so that she knows to give me a minute, I close down what I’m working on. Hita and I have been friends since our freshman year of college. She got me the interview for this job. Hita’s American, but her parents came from India. She’s tall, about 5’ 10”, with long runner’s legs, thick shiny hair that goes down to the middle of her back, and an easy going, happy personality. Our freshman year she was one of the princesses, Pocahontas. -- Get it? – Indian. We head down to the cafeteria. Our goal is to get in just ahead of the lunch rush. We don’t want to get caught in any long lines.

  As we walk down the hall, she starts laughing and says, “I understand you had a disturbing visual while brushing your teeth this morning.”

  “I hope Meredith didn’t blast that little bit of information across Facebook. I don’t need some future employer seeing stuff like that.”

  “No, no, she just texted it to me. She knew I would be seeing you at work. So, how’s living with Cassie?”

  “Good and weird. We have been friends since we were kids. It’s great reconnecting; it’s just we have lived a very different lifestyle the last few years.”

  “Does that mean she parties and picks up guys and you are a…”

  “Hermit, geek, weirdo magnet…”

  “Oh, come on, Creepy Tom can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

  “As I said, weirdo magnet. Of all the guys who have to have the hots for me, just my luck it’s Creepy Tom.”

  “Hey, it could be worse; Hairy Ian could have the hots for you.”

  “Just thinking about Hairy Ian makes me shiver. Could you imagine having to eat dinner with Hairy Ian? I think I would barf if I had to look at all that white hairy skin while I ate.”

  “I never realized how much I should have appreciated my high school’s dress code.”

  “God, someone’s got to get that guy to put some clothes on. Are we the only ones who find looking at all that hairy skin grotesque?”

  “Do you think men look at, or care about, what some other guy has on?”

  We both roll our eyes. We are too new here to complain. My goal is to keep a low profile as I learn the ropes.

  By now we’ve reached the cafeteria. Hita spots Caroline who works on the client side of engineering. Caroline has a tray filled with food. She holds her tray with one arm, smiles, waves to us, and points to an open table by the window. We both wave back and nod yes. After standing in the sushi line to get lunch, I fill my water bottle with more herbal iced tea. As I look over at the table, I see that Hita is already sitting down with Caroline. All three of us are twenty-four years old. As I sit down Caroline looks at me and smirks.

  Giving Hita a death glare, I roll my eyes and shake my head as I indigently say, “Really, you had to tell her.”

  They both laugh.

  “Well I bet that was an eyeful.” Caroline says.

  “Must have jolted you awake.” Hita follows up.

  Taking a sip of my iced tea, I roll my eyes. “Cassie just got divorced; I think she still has some wild oats to sow. Living with her makes me feel like an RA on a freshman floor.”

  Hita stares at me and raises her eyebrows, “So why did you move back? Last I knew you were taking off for London to be with Stephan.” She bobs her eyebrows up and down when she says Stephan. “The next I know you’re asking around about jobs here…without Stephan. “

  “How do we move from my roommate’s hook up to my experience in London? What about your love life? I haven’t heard anything from you since I’ve been back.” I too can give the power look.

  Hita rolls her eyes and sighs. “My love life consists of dodging my mother’s meddling Indian matchmaking, while finding nothing better on my own. The dating scene is totally depressing.” Her tone is mater-of-fact. “I spend way too much of my time working.” She lifts her fork and points it at me. “Furthermore, you’re changing the subject. I’ve been patient. I haven’t interrogated you. It’s been a month. It’s time you spill on what happened in London with Stephan.”

  Tilting my head, I glare at her. “Really? You need details. You can’t figure out what happened.”

  She matches my glare and says, “spill.”

  It’s not that I have a problem talking about relationships with girlfriends. In fact, I enjoy talking about guys with my girlfriends. As I think about why I haven’t spoken with any of my friends about what went down, I tell Hita and Caroline, “I need time to process what went on in London with Stephan and me. I have no perspective to talk about it.”

  In her typical persistent manner, Hita continues, “I take it London with Stephan wasn’t as wonderful and romantic as you had hoped for?”

  Thinking about it, I respond, “Yeah, let’s just say that California Stephan, the one from grad school, was very different from London Stephan.”

  Caroline enters the conversation, “Different how?”

  Closing my eyes, I visualize Stephan last year as I tell her, “California Stephan was fun, nice, friendly, interesting, smart, and worldly. He was always ready for an adventure. He got along well with my friends. My parents liked him.”

  Hita interjects, “He also had a devastatingly sexy accent.”

  With a dreamy smile I add, “That, along with his rakish quality is what made him so irresistible.”

  Hita nods in agreement as she tells Caroline, “Yeah, he kind of looks like Captain Hook from the TV show Once Upon a Time.”

  Caroline gives me a second look and nods her head in appreciation. Then she prods, “So, what happened to your sexy London Stephan?”

  After pausing to think, I explain, “Everything was great with us when we were in the US. In London, he just wanted to go to the pub and hang out with his boarding school buddies. He was really caught up in what his friends and family thought.” I added, thinking about how different his London lifestyle is from the one that we shared in California.

  As I contemplate what I’m going to say before I say it, I remember where we broke down. “I wa
s fine in California, we were fine in California. In London I didn’t fit in, we didn’t make sense. None of the women in his group liked me. I was completely ignored by his guy friends. Stephan’s family was appalled by our relationship; they acted like he was slumming with me. I was never made to feel welcome.”

  Now having Caroline and Hita’s full attention, I dig deep to tell them what really upset me. “Once I showed up, he never attempted to support or help me fit in. Our relationship felt like a mistake.”

  Hita reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine in a show of support.

  I continue with my story. “The quarter we were apart, he Skyped every day, begging that I move to London. Once I was there, he acted like he didn’t want me around. Even when we were alone we didn’t work.”

  Recalling how lonely I felt this past summer in London I add, “When my visa came up to be renewed, I realized I didn’t want to stay. I’m sure I could have found people who I liked in London; it’s just that Stephan wouldn’t have been one of them. I moved for a guy. When that didn’t work out, I just didn’t see any point in remaining in London, when I could be much happier here. As I said, not much of a story.”

  Hita and Caroline have been eating as they listen to my story.

  Caroline comments, “You seem cool with it.”

  “If ‘cool with it’ means not being heartbroken. Yeah, I guess I am ‘cool with it.’ I was so relieved that my visa gave me an easy way out. I really didn’t have a good time with Stephan in London. It was a long, slow three-month break up. When I think back to this summer, all I remember is standing around, with a fake smile on my face, feeling awkward as everyone ignored me.”

  Hita asks, “So what did he say when you said you didn’t want to renew your visa?”

  “I think he was relieved that I didn’t want to stay. What can I say? That relationship ran its course. No big fights, no other women, it just stopped working. I’m glad I went to London. At the bank where I interned, they paid me well, and the work was interesting. I got to see a lot of England, more than I would have ever seen as a tourist. The best I can say is I left never wondering if Stephan was the one that got away.”