Laurelin Paige - Hudson

I sign in on the form and hand the clipboard back to the volunteer manning the desk.

The young mans brows rise in recognition of my name. Mr. Pierce! He stands from his seat and sticks out his hand to shake mine. I didnt expect it would be you representing Pierce Industries. I thought youd send someone.

I shake his hand, out of politeness, then force a stiff smile. Surprise. God, I hate small talk. Especially from this twenty-two year old ass-kisser who likely hopes this interaction will earn him employment at my company. Im afraid its not that easy to even get an interview.

He lowers his focus to the nametags on the table, searching for the one with the Pierce Industries logo. He hands it to me, and I pocket it. I refuse to wear it. Im easily enough recognized without advertising it.

The mannothing more than a boy, reallyseems disappointed. Whether its because Im not as charismatic or charming as hed imagined or because I dismissed the damn nametag, I cant be certain. Frankly, I dont give a shit. Once upon a time, his emotions would have elicited more interest from me. Now, theyre barely a blip on my radar. Ill never understand them. No point in wasting my time trying.

His smile is professional as he gives me the portfolio for the evenings presentation. At the same time, I feel a small hand press into my back. I tense. I know that hand.

I glance behind me, confirming my suspicion as I start toward the lecture hall. What are you still doing here? I gave you what you wanted.

Im already here. I thought Id stay. As she trots to keep up with me, Celias heels echo on the marble floor of the Kauffman Management Center, the house of NYUs Stern School of Business.

I stop at the door to the hall and turn to her. You werent invited.

Her lids flutter ever so slightly, and I know my words have stung. You could invite me. We rarely see each other anymore. She lowers her voice. I miss you.

My jaw ticks, and I let out a slow breath. Celia is the one person Ive been advised not to spend time with. Shes also the one person who understands me better than anyone else. Its a war I wage dailybeing with her is akin to being a drunk in a liquor store. She tempts me to indulge in wicked ways, even if she doesnt intend to. And Im certain that she usually does intend to.

But shes my only friend, if thats what you would call our relationship. Without her, Im all alone.

Fine; youre invited, I resign. I open the door and hold it for her to walk through. I dont know why you want to be here. These things are boring as hell.

I follow her down a row toward the back of the room and take two seats in the middle. The hall is small, and there are less than ten other corporate representatives currently seated. We could easily move closer, but Celia knows me well enough to understand that I prefer to be removed from situations such as these.

She leans toward me, the scent of her too-strong designer perfume pervading my space. If its boring, why do you even come? You could send someone whos twenty rungs down the ladder from you.

I pause, deciding if I want to explain. The annual Stern Symposium is the only event of its type that I attend. While the majority of the presentations are dull, Ive found a handful of stellar students in the mix. A good find is rare and not worth the two hours I spend here every year, but that isnt the reason I continue to show up. Any of my execs could come in my place and be a better use of time management.

Still, I insist on coming myself. Partly, Im curious. I want to know the ideas and trends emerging from the top schools. Its an attempt to stay in touch, to remind myself how to be fresh and innovative like the MBA graduates that will present tonight.

Theres also another reason I attend, a reason thats less tangible and harder to put into words. Its been eight years since I finished my own business degree. Then I went straight to managing my fathers company. Ive become known for my cutting edge corporate decisions, my contemporary workplace vision. But the truth of the matter is that everything was handed to me. I never had to fight for it or earn it like the students we will soon see. Im ambitious and intelligent, but they have a passion and a fortitude that is intriguing. It inspires me. Most of them will do anything to make it to the top. They want to be me, to have what I have. They look up to me to show them how to get there.

And I look up to them.

Celia would never understand, so I simply say, You never know what gems you might find. I pick up the portfolio from my lap and flip through it absently as I speak. Dont blame me, though, when you have to fight to stay awake. And dont even think of trying to get me to leave.

I wont do either. Ill be a good girl.

My eyes dart to her legs as she crosses one over the other. Theyre attractive, Ill admit. Shes attractive. Id be a liar if I said otherwise. But I am not attracted to her in that way. Not at all. Its likely a symptom of my inability to love, though I do take interest in other women. Women I dont know. I fuck them and have a good time, but thats all. Celia is the only woman besides my mother and sister that I know on any sort of intimate level. And as if she were a family member, I have not a speck of desire for her.

Im only here to be with you, anyway, she says now, wrapping her hand around my arm.

I flick my gaze toward her grasp, but dont shrug her away. Stop saying things like that, Celia. As well as I know her, Ive yet to understand her intentions by making statements such as this. Shes smart enough to realize that I will never return any affection, and strangely, I dont think thats what shes after. She simply wants that same connection that I doa kinship with someone who understands the dark fascinations that live inside her.

And I do understand her darkness. In fact, Im fairly certain I birthed it in Celia. Time and again I try to remember if I saw it residing there before I subjected her to my cruel experiment. I can never be sure of the answer. How could I be expected to identify light when I dwell in total darkness myself? Now, even though Im better, though Ive resigned from the game, there is only black everywhere around me.

Still pretending to focus on the portfolio, I feel rather than see her look away.

Im sorry, she says in a low voice. I justI dont know.

A moment of pity grips me. You dont have to explain. I understand.

The lights dim, and the president of the business program takes the stage. I drop the folder onto my lap, having garnered very little information about the nights presentations. I wont learn anything from that, anyway. If theres someone worth my time, I wont know until I hear him or her speak.

After the president speaks, the first presentation begins. I know there will be six students in all. That doesnt vary from year to year. Only the top students of the graduating class are invited to present. They are the cream of the crop. Stern isnt Harvard, but its a Top Ten business school. These students are some of the nations best.

As I promised, though, the evening is a bore. Also true to her word, Celia doesnt complain. She appears to be deep in thought, most likely concocting her next scam. The temptation to join her in scheming is great, but I push against the pull and focus my attention on the event. International trade seems to be the topic of the night, but there are a few differentiationsone talk is about the newest tax codes and how they can better benefit corporations. Snore. Another presents a variation on an old business model. Its an original idea, but not practical.

By the time the fifth student finishes, Ive met my limit. I nudge Celia out of her reverie. Im ready to go, I begin to say, but stop myself before I get the words out. The woman ascending the stairs to the stage has caught my eye, and all thoughts of leaving disappear. Something about the way she moves is captivatingthe wiggle of her hips suggests an undercurrent of sexuality, and her back is straight with confidence.