Bernstein - Bridget Wilder 3

T he universe whispered one little word in my ear: moptunes.

What am I doing here? Why am I sitting at a table in Reindeer Crescents Three Trees Hotel listening to a woman talk about inventing a mop that plays music?

I thought I was here to see my mother, Nancy Wilder, receive the supposedly prestigious Reindeer Crescent Businesswoman of the Year award for managing her courier company, Wheel Getit2u. I thought my younger sister, Natalie, and I were here to provide support since my dad had a work thing that couldnt be shifted, and my brother, Ryan, responded to the invitation with a heartfelt Id love to be there, but I just died of boredom.

But as the award ceremony drags into its second hour, I realize that every businesswoman who showed up is automatically guaranteed her own award.

And thats how I achieved mopularity! the woman gushes.

I look to my left. Natalie is watching Mrs. Mop and mouthing So inspirational. I look to my right. My mother, who should be fuming, is smiling, nodding, and making notes in the margins of her acceptance speechwhich I pray she gets to deliver sometime before my forty-fourth birthday. The woman gestures to an assistant, who hands her two mops, both with red, white, and blue handles. To commemorate the upcoming election, I am happy to present supporters of President Brennan with their own mop. Pink Suit holds up a mop that plays a tinny version of Its a Grand Old Flag.

And if youre thinking of voting for independent candidate Morgan Font, I have a mop just for you. Im a Yankee Doodle Dandy tinkles out of the second mop. The businesswomen clap along.

Although Im only here as a barely awake audience member, I technically qualify for an award. I am in the spy business, and I am a resident of Reindeer Crescent.

I look around at the women sitting at the other seventeen tables in the hotel conference room, clapping like seals along to the sound of mops, and I find myself wishing they could hear my acceptance speech.

Businesswomen of Reindeer Crescent, Sacramento, thank you for this beautiful award, I would begin, holding my gold-plated figurine representing Hermes, the Greek god of merchants and commerce, high in the air. Its an honor and a privilege, but I didnt get here on my own. I know you look at me and think, wow, she makes the world safe for the rest of us mere mortals. But it took a lot of people to make Bridget Wilder the spy she is today.

Id like to thank the evil agency Section 23, who attempted to use me to capture my biological father, Carter Strike. In doing so, they made me into the awesome spy who brought about their downfall. Id like to thank another evil organization, the secret criminal operation known as the Forties, who kidnapped Carter Strike and introduced me to my birth mother, the international assassin Irina Ouspenskaya. And then I brought about their downfall. Im good with the downfalls.

Id like to thank the CIA, who put Strike and Irina in charge of a rebooted version of the Forties that occasionally sends me on missions involving young people. I just vetted a bunch of contestants for that TV cooking competition for kids, and, of course, I did an impeccable job. I didnt find a single evil villain among the Little Chefs. Id particularly like to thank someone whos very special to me. Someone I keep close at all times...

At that point, Id hold up the second finger of my left hand and let the audience gaze at what theyd see as an ordinary ring with a big crimson stone. I would like to thank Red, the plucky, loyal, unbreakable nanomarble, who has become my closest friend in times of crisis. The Research and Development team at the Forties came up with a clever way for me to hide Red in plain sight. They attached him to a magnetized bezel, which, they informed me, was the part of the ring that holds the gem. To unleash him, they told me, just squeeze.

We made it, buddy, Id tell Red, fighting back tears. Oh, and thanks to my mom, my dad, my sister, my botherjust kidding, Ryanmy friend Joanna, and Dale Took... actually, forget it, Ill stop there.

Keep dreaming big dreams, Reindeer Crescent businesswomen, you can be anything you want to be... ouch!

A sharp elbow from my left digs into my ribs. Shut up, hisses Natalie. Youre mumbling to yourself like a crazy person.

To my right, my mother leans in and mutters in my ear. Im sorry you find this so boring, Bridget. Please try to pay attention. These are people who have done great things with their lives. You could learn something.

About mops, I start to say. Then I focus on the conference room stage. I was so deeply immersed in my acceptance speech fantasy, I failed to register the new occupant.

Im Vidina Geiger, says the small, brown-haired woman on the stage. Standing on this stage is the last place I thought Id ever be.

I incline my head toward my mother. Long boring speech alert, I mutter hilariously.

Can you be quiet and listen to her? Mom sighs.

I never imagined myself starting my own business, let alone making a success of it, the woman continues. I was happy and satisfied being the wife of Martin Geiger, and the mother of Sheryl and Nelson.

Pictures of Vidina Geigers happy family appear on the video monitor behind her. Handsome husband. Pretty daughter. The son has kind of an egg-shaped head. The businesswomen all make a www noises. No a wwws from Bridget Wilder. Im not exactly sure what, but something about the picture of the Geiger clan has my spy senses tingling.

They were my success story, Mrs. Geiger continues. But sometimes you need to find your own identity outside of your family. My husband built Tastes Like Steak from a single restaurant to a nationwide chain. Could I build something? I asked myself. If I really put my mind to it, what could I do?

Fart! I say out loud.

The womans speech comes to an abrupt halt.

Oops.

Natalie throws her hands over her face. Im not with you, she hisses. I dont know you.

Mom slumps down low in her seat as everyone swivels around to stare in my direction.

I jump up and gesture to my mortified mother and sister that Im heading to the restroom.

Sorry, I call out to the award-winner onstage. Keep going. Youre doing great.

Bridget, go! Natalie and Mom chorus in pained harmony.

So I go. But not to the restroom.