Churlish as her mood was, Liz recognized that Cousin Willie was not at fault, and once he was in the passenger seat of her father’s Cadillac, she made an effort to sound chipper. “I thought we’d start by going to the riverfront,” she said. “It’s kind of nice to walk along Bicentennial Commons, even though it’s sweltering. And then we can go to the Freedom Center, and after that a late lunch at Skyline Chili.”
“Great,” Willie said. “I always enjoy spending time with you, Lizzy.”
“Remind me what you’re working on now,” Liz said, and after that, little more was required of her because Willie proceeded to deliver a monologue that took them all the way to their destination: He spoke of load balancing, scaling strategy, CPU usage, SSL certificates, and maintenance windows, or lack thereof. Finally, as they were pulling into the parking lot off Pete Rose Way, Liz interrupted and said, “So tell me about the coolest women in Silicon Valley that I’ve never heard of.”
Willie seemed confused. “Cool how?”
“The movers and shakers,” Liz said. “The up-and-comers. Who’ll be a household name two years from now?”
“If you’re trying to write an affirmative action piece about female entrepreneurs, you have a better chance of finding a field full of four-leaf clovers.”
Slightly taken aback, Liz said, “Well, who’s the next Nancy Nelson?” Nelson was the CEO of one of the world’s largest software companies.
“My point exactly,” Willie said. “She was hired for that job two years after the IPO. She’s a suit, not a visionary.”
“I realize she isn’t a coder, but she has an impressive track record.” Then, to change the subject, Liz said, “Have you been seeing a stylist?”
She’d meant it as a factual inquiry, but Willie seemed pleased. “A woman at Nordstrom named Yvette has been helping me. It means a lot that you noticed, Lizzy, with where you work.”
“Well, I’m not in the fashion department. But you’re welcome.”
After a brief silence, Willie said, “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you? I’m assuming I’d have heard about it if you did.”
Liz hesitated before saying, “Not exactly.”
“Do you want children?” It was strange but not offensive—certainly less offensive than his remark about female entrepreneurs—to be asked so straightforwardly. With her family, such questions were usually alluded to rather than openly discussed. Somehow the fact that all five sisters were unmarried made them a phenomenon, an amusing or appalling one, depending on your perspective, though in either case there was rarely recognition of each woman’s individuality.
Yet still Liz knew better than to answer honestly. She said, “I’m not sure. Do you?”
“Of course,” Willie said. “And, Liz, you’d be a great mom. For someone like you, with your quality of genes, not to have kids would be a real waste.” Clearly, he believed himself to be complimenting her.
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.
“Frankly, a lot of the women I meet are gold diggers. I recently thought I was taking a girl out for dinner, and it turns out she was a lady of the night.” Willie hadn’t relayed the information in a humorous tone, so Liz tried not to laugh.
She said, “How’d you figure it out?”
“She eventually mentioned a fee.”
Liz pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, which didn’t adequately conceal a snort. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not—you must have been horrified. But how did—did she say, ‘Okay, now you have to pay me’?”
“We’d gone out for dinner, and I thought we were having a good time. I asked if she’d like to have a glass of wine at my house, and she said, ‘Okay, for a thousand bucks.’?”
“Jesus. I’m in the wrong line of work.”
Liz had parked, and they climbed from the car and followed the path toward the river.
“There was no penetration,” Willie said. “Just a BJ. I hope that doesn’t make you think less of me, Lizzy.”
They were walking side by side, which Liz hoped meant Willie didn’t see the revulsion that passed over her face. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d accepted the prostitute’s offer in any capacity. But Liz couldn’t deny that she had helped lead them to this point in the conversation. She said, “I’m sure there are lots of women who’d love to date you free of charge.”
“Liz.” He touched her elbow. “Paying for sex—I had never done anything like that. But I just—I’m not very experienced. I’m not still a virgin, but I was till I was twenty-three.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation. Seriously.”
“Please don’t mention this to Margo.”
“Of course not,” Liz said. “Let’s never speak of it again.”