“I never thought anyone would go for it,” said María. “Confessing the worst thing you’ve ever done in your life. On camera. But Roger was right. Who wouldn’t want to confess?”
“What are the videos used for?” I asked.
“If you have to ask…,” she said with a chuckle. When I didn’t laugh, she added: “We should join Roger.” He stood onstage nodding and glad-handing with Ben Affleck and Jay-Z and, María informed me, Samantha Power.
“I’ll be up in a second,” I told her. I drifted over to The Mistake Tent, curious about the type of people it attracted. Sy Cunningham and Claire Lance waited near the front of the line, gesturing patiently, sipping drinks from stubby cups. The sight of them made my legs quiver. My worst memories had climbed out of my skull. I spun around to look for María but heard a familiar voice calling my name.
“My god, Sasha! Get over here now.” Cassandra towered over me in red stiletto heels and a silk, sleeveless gown the color of an aging rose petal. She lowered her hands to my shoulders, kissed both cheeks. “How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“You didn’t tell me you’d be here,” I said, trying to sound friendly.
She took my hands in hers. “You’re shaking. You must be freezing.”
“I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Tsk, tsk. Roger promised me he’d take care of you. I told him to take care of you.”
Her words plucked me bare. “It’s nearly seven. I should go find my seat.” I doubted I would survive catching up with her.
“These things never start on time,” she said. “Never one worth attending, at least.” There was Cassandra’s knowing charm, her sense of ownership over all things.
And here I was: shaping myself to accommodate her. “Can’t start without me,” I said. “I’m giving the keynote.”
“Oh, my god! That’s amazing.” She shouldered my shoulder. “I am so proud of you. I always knew you’d make it this far. I always believed in you.”
“You did,” I said. Though I meant it to sound like: You did?
“You must tell me, Sasha. I’ve been so curious about your thing. That thing you’re doing—changing the world, the universe. I’ve been so intrigued since you told me about it.” It was impossible to tell where her curiosity ended and her condescension began.
“It’s still very much in development,” I told her. “I’m here for a brief spell before I return to the real work. Back to what I love doing.”
“I love that you love what you’re doing.” She let out a toothy, beaming laugh, like headlights in the night. “I’m in the middle of something, as well—sworn to secrecy on it. But I’ll be so excited to share it with you. Soon we’ll have to collaborate. Like the old days.”
“Would you really want that?”
“You’re so adorable,” she said. She snapped for Sy Cunningham’s attention. “Sy! Come talk to Sasha and me.”
Sy Cunningham stepped out of line and held out his hand for a shake. “Sy Cunningham,” he said. He’d had his mole removed since I’d last seen him, but the surgeon had botched the procedure. A pale red circle the size of a nickel balanced on Sy’s lip. He hovered his hand over his mouth to hide it. “I host the podcast Sylence. Have you heard it?”
“Don’t say anything, Sash. It’s a setup.”
Sash, I thought.
“So,” he said. “Have you… heard it?” He laughed to himself.
“Sy only has one joke and he unloads it on every new person he meets. It’s funny in a not funny at all kind of way.”
“We’ve met before,” I said.
“I’m positive we haven’t,” he said. “I would’ve remembered someone of your—” He coughed. “Reputation.”
Cassandra shook her head. “Leave it to Sy Cunningham: always the most indiscreet man in the room. Always says what everyone knows not to say.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Cassandra said.
I was impressed by Cassandra, grateful to have her back on my side.
“Don’t think people won’t be hearing about this. Don’t think I won’t tell everyone.” She eyed him forcefully. He quivered dramatically. They cracked open in laughter and hugged. I tried to laugh, too. They looked at me like I’d discovered them kissing. Sy stepped into the tent.
“Oh, Sasha, I’ve missed you,” Cassandra said.
It felt good to shadow Cassandra again, to reside inside her confidence. I let myself imagine lengthy dinners together whenever she visited California, vacationing with her on various Mediterranean islands—the life she had once made me envision.
Guests were beginning to shuffle to their spots. They slipped the ushers business cards and folded fifties in last-ditch efforts to earn seats among more powerful and beautiful donors.
Cassandra said, “What you’re doing for DAM is so generous. I don’t know if Roger told you, but he had the most difficult time finding someone to take the position. He reached out to everyone. Literally everyone. Twice. When I heard he was so desperate, your name immediately popped in my head.”
“Oh,” I said.
“I never thought you’d take it. Never. And I mean that with the utmost admiration. I assumed you’d have something better than this—especially when you told me about that world changer. Which is to say I admire you for accepting a job that most people might find demeaning. Because DAM is so important. They’re taking real risks. I completely understand why no one would work with them. I turned them down for those same reasons. But you: you’re above that noise.” She pressed her finger against my sternum. “That’s what I love about you. You always surprise me.”
I felt small, squashable, listening to her speak at me.
“It’s hilarious. Not funny ha-ha, funny huh.” She shrugged playfully. “If you asked me last year to predict how our lives would turn out, I never would’ve guessed this. Not in a hundred billion years. That’s life for you. Un-Pre-Dic-Table. The only way to find out what happens
