Silicon Valley Sweetheart (4 page)

O
nce we got
into the main lobby at Woodham Industries, Mark asked the receptionist to call Martin to pick us up. As we were waiting for the car to come around, I whispered, “When are you going to tell me what this is all about?”

“Soon. I’ll have Martin drop us off at my condo. Don’t worry. I’m not going to try to seduce you. I’ll explain everything to you once we’re there.”

Martin opened the door for me. I climbed in. Mark followed after me. We didn’t speak on the way to his condo. I looked out the window as we drove. I was amazed at how much different Palo Alto was from New York. Everywhere in New York seemed to be bustling with activity, with lots of high rises and tons of people. This area seemed much more low-key. It was more like going to upstate New York rather than New York City, itself.

We pulled up to a gated condo complex. Seeing Mark in the back seat, the attendant opened up the gate for us. This must be where Mark lives. I thought the buildings looked relatively new. Martin drove to the back of the complex. He pulled the car near the sidewalk and got out to unload our bags. Martin carried my luggage and Mark brought in his own.

Mark unlocked the door to his condo. We stepped inside. It was nice. Spotless, in fact. The green walls with beige trim matched the cream leather furniture perfectly. He had a huge TV on the wall that had to have been at least 65’. I was sure he’d spent many hours in front of watching sports.

I laughed to myself,
not a Persian rug in sight.
If the situation had been different, I imagine my uncle would have tried to convince Mark he needed to buy some expensive rugs. It’s no wonder my uncle was one of the biggest distributors in New York. He was always trying to sell someone...

“Make yourself comfortable,” Mark said. “Can I get you a beer?”

I sat down on one of the stools in front of the kitchen bar. Looking around the kitchen, I noticed none of the appliances looked like they had ever been used.

“I’m more of a wine girl, myself. But if that’s all you have, it will do.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid I only have beer.”

Mark opened the refrigerator. Either he hadn’t been home in weeks or the man doesn’t cook. There was a bottle of ketchup, a bottle of mayonnaise, and a six-pack of beer in there. He opened a bottle of beer and handed it to me. “Cheers,” he said, raising his bottle to mine. “You were amazing today. I had no idea you were so smart.”

“And here you thought I was just a pretty face,” I smiled.

“You don’t know how much hotter this makes you,” Mark said with a wink.

While I appreciate a compliment just as much as the next girl, so far, Mark had completely managed to skirt the issue of why we were pretending to be the lovely engaged couple.

“So, tell me, why are we playing house?” I asked.

“Our engagement? Well, like I started to tell you in the conference room, my dad has cancer - stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma to be precise. According to his doctors, it’s terminal. They’ve given him three to six months to live.

“My mother was involved in a fatal car accident when I was eight. She was the love of his life. Dad’s luck with women after my mom passed has not been very good...

“I really think my current stepmother—Brenda—only married him for his money. With every woman he gets involved with, it always ends up being about the money. You’d think by now he would learn that he gets taken to the cleaners every time someone new comes into his life. Good thing his business has done so well. He needs to keep making money so he can pay for the ex-wives.”

This still wasn’t making sense to me. What did his father’s love life have to do with us pretending to be engaged?

Mark continued. “My father’s current wife, step-monster #4, is trying to persuade my father to sell Woodham Industries before he passes.”

I laughed at his phrase for his stepmother.

“As you heard in the office today, people don’t think I take life seriously enough to be able to take over the reins of the company. And so, the plan is to present a new and improved Mark Woodham to the public, and to my father. One who can take the helm of the company my father has sacrificed so much to build.”

“If your father sells the business, won’t you get a piece of it?”

“Shirin, it’s not just about finances. It’s about legacy. My father gave everything to this company. When a person quits the company, they don’t just quit Woodham Industries. They quit Fred, too.

“Look, I know all my stepmother wants is the money. If my father still owns the business upon his death, it passes to me. If he sells it while he’s still alive, I’ll still get the money in my trust fund, but I won’t get anything from the business at all. All the proceeds will end up going to my stepmother.”

This was a lot to take in. Even though it didn’t make logical sense, something in me wanted to help him.

“I understand wanting to continue what your father has dedicated so much of his life to.” Without thinking I agreed. “I’ll do it. How long do we have to pretend we’re engaged?” I asked.

“I will inherit the company automatically upon my father’s death. Should he become incapacitated, I will have power of attorney, and can direct what happens. We only need to put on a show until my father either dies or becomes incapacitated. Then, I will break off our engagement.”

“Do you really think your father will believe we’re together?”

“I have no doubt he will. Deep down, I think he hopes I will finally settle down and have a family like he did. I think it’s even more important to him now, knowing that his time here is probably limited.”

Mark seemed so carefree and happy-go-lucky, but something was driving him to want to please his father. I didn’t know what it was.

“And, what do you want?” I asked.

“If my father’s disease is in fact terminal, I want him to go out of this world not having to worry about whether I’m ok.”

“Why not just find some nice girl to ask to marry you for real?”

It’s true. Mark would be a pretty good catch for almost any girl, even if he hadn’t been rich. The money part was just a bonus. I still didn’t understand why he was interested in me, though. He could have practically any girl he wanted at the drop of a hat. And, while the prospect of Mark’s money was appealing, I came here to be successful on my own.

Mark continued. “I’ll never marry. Real love doesn’t exist. Marriage just changes everything. As soon as there’s a ring involved, everything becomes about the money. I simply refuse to go there. Any girl who says money isn’t important is lying.”

I still didn’t understand why I agreed to go along with this plan. “What do I have to do?” I asked.

“During our engagement, I will pay your tuition at Stanford, plus a small monthly living allowance. You will go to school and from time to time, attend family or social events with me. That is all. We don’t have to date. That is, unless you want to.”

I thought for a moment. There had to be some catch. Why would he offer a complete stranger a ton of money to pretend to be his fiancée for six months or so? Of course, with his views on women, he’d likely never find one agreeable to marriage.

I felt like I was standing in front of two doors. Through door #1 all of your dreams have gone up in smoke. You won’t go to Stanford. You won’t go anywhere at all. Through door #2 lies Stanford. The key to my dreams. I just hoped I wasn’t selling my soul to get through door #2.

“How long will we have to do this?” I asked.

“Well, according to doctors, 3-6 months. Look. We’re both in a bind. We can help each other out here. You will be able to go to Stanford. I’ll keep the company my father worked so hard to establish. And the world will be a happier place.”

“OK. I’ll let you loan me the money to go to Stanford. But, once I graduate and get a job, I will pay you back every penny with interest. Still, this doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you. Deal?”

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Pahlavi. But OK. Deal.”

We held up our beer bottles and toasted our agreement. Looking into his eyes, desire suddenly came over me. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be lying naked beneath him, lost in his arms.

“Why don’t you go shower. That should help you feel a little more refreshed after your long night. After that, I’ll take you shopping to get something to wear to dinner tonight.”

Sheesh. For a guy who thinks women are only after his money, he has a funny way of not making it about the money.

“A shower sounds wonderful. However, in case you hadn’t noticed, those are my suitcases. There are plenty of clothes in there. We don’t need to go buy more.”

He smiled. “Oh, but a little retail therapy can help ease the worst of situations! I’ll call Melody, my personal shopper over at Neiman Marcus and get her to pick out some clothes for us to try on. You’re about a size six?”

“Ten. But thanks for thinking I’m skinnier than I am.”

I went to my suitcase to pull out my makeup bag. Mark directed me to his guest bathroom. The warm water on my skin felt soothing. I thought about the arrangement I’d made with Mark while I was in the shower. I doubted Amanda and Emily would approve if they knew, but I didn’t have a lot of choices right now.

Besides, they were back in New York… and I was here.

M
ark drove
us to Stanford Shopping Mall. It was an outdoor mall with plenty of parking. It was far more spread out and open than any of the malls I’d been to in New York. I recognized a lot of the upscale shops—they were the same stores I was used to.

We went inside Neiman Marcus. As we were walking through the store, a pair of jeans caught my eye. I pulled them off the rack, admiring them. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as soon as I saw the price tag - $950!
Who spends that much money on a pair of jeans?
I thought.

Mark asked for Melody at the sales counter. It wasn’t long before an attractive young woman came out from a back room. “Hi, Mark,” she said.

Mark put his arm around my waist and smiled. “Melody, I’d like you to meet my fiancee, Shirin.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Melody said, smiling.

She took us back to a private dressing room. I looked for a sign that indicated which gender the rooms were for. There wasn’t one. This must have been a special dressing room reserved for personal shoppers’ clients.

“The clothes I’ve picked out for you to try on are in the dressing room on the left. I understand you’re having dinner at Mark’s club tonight, so I’ve pulled some dresses that would be appropriate for you to wear.”

I went into the room Melody directed me to and shut the door. The dresses she chose were amazing. I could tell they were expensive just by touching the fabric. I tried on a simple red one with a rounded neck and pleated skirt that made my waist look small. It was made out of a nice jacquard fabric.

Melody knocked on the door. “I have a couple more dresses for you to look at,” she said. I opened the door. She smiled as she saw me in the red dress.

“Oh, let me look at you. That dress is perfect!”

Mark came out of his dressing room. “Let me see!”

His face lit up when I walked out of the dressing room.

“Turn around. Show me the back.” He turned to Melody, “I love it. We’ll take it!”

I stood in front of the three-way mirror. The dress did fit me really well. I was shocked when I looked down at the price tag - $899. That was nearly as much as I would earn working a whole month at one of the part-time jobs I had in New York.

“I can’t get this, Mark. It’s too expensive.”

“Nonsense! Nothing is too good for my fiancee. You look beautiful in it.” He was grinning from ear to ear.

“You know what that reminds me of? There’s a song - my mother used to love called
The Lady in Red
.” He started humming a tune.

“I’m afraid I don’t know that song,” I said, staring at him blankly.

“It was one of my mother’s favorites.” Mark walked up to me, put his hands around my waist and began softly swaying as he sang.

I laughed and pulled away from him. Even though the store was air conditioned, I could feel the heat build inside me simply from his touch. I couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his arms and chest. They were firm. Well defined. He was strong and had a great body.

Melody looked down at my feet. “Do you have shoes to wear with the dress?” she asked.

“No, I don’t,” I said with a sigh. “Maybe we should look for a different dress.”

“Shirin, please let me buy it for you. I love how stunning you look in it. It would make me very happy to take you to dinner looking as lovely as you do right now.”

Turning to Melody, he said, “Can you please see if there are any shoes that will match this beautiful dress? What size are you?”

“8.”

Melody scurried off.

“You really don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but I want to. This is fun. You may make an honest man of me, yet.” Mark smiled.

A few minutes later, Melody appeared with a wonderful pair of red sandals that matched the dress perfectly. I pulled them out of the box and looked at them. I slipped my feet into them. They fit like a glove.

I saw the tag on the bottom of the shoe. “$1100? That’s an awful lot. Are you sure you want to spend that kind of money, Mark?”

“It would make me very happy. The outfit looks lovely on you. You can think of yourself as Cinderella for the evening.” He smiled. “Fortunately for you, nothing will turn into a pumpkin at midnight and the evil stepmother happens to be married to my father. So you won’t have to worry about that.

“I couldn’t do this without you. Everything you’re doing means a lot to me. I just want to see you happy.”

“Just remember, this is only a temporary arrangement,” I reminded him. “I just don’t want you to think that we’re going to happen.”

W
e arrived
at Mark’s country club just before 7 PM. Mark’s father and stepmother were sitting on a bench out front waiting for us. They both stood up as we got near.

“Hi, Dad. Brenda, I’d like you to meet my fiancee, Shirin.”

Brenda looked me over from head to toe, staring appraisingly at me.

Mark stepped closer to Brenda and gave her a slight hug and kissed her on the cheek. It was obvious there was a cold tension between them. I could see the muscles on the back of Brenda’s neck tighten and her jaw clench. It looked like she knew she was heading into battle and was planning to conquer all that she could, one inch at a time.

Brenda held out her hand toward me. Her handshake was weak. It felt like she didn’t want to touch me.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sharon is it?” Brenda asked, leaning away.

“No Brenda, it’s Shirin. S-H-I-R-I-N,” Mark said, buttoning his jacket. I could hear the irritation in Mark’s voice. This woman sure knew how to push his buttons.

“That’s a lovely dress, Sharon. I think I saw one like that at Target the other day. Is that where it’s from?”

I didn’t know how to respond. Mark jumped in. “Brenda, we all know that you would never set foot in Target if your life depended on it. It would be far too embarrassing for you to be caught out in public where the riff-raff shop…”

I could see that Fred didn’t want to get caught up in this exchange.

“Let’s go inside and have a drink.” He directed us to the clubs front door.

Once inside, we grabbed a seat at a small table in the bar.

“It’s very nice here,” I said.

“It was until they started allowing members to start wearing jeans in the dining room. Can you imagine a club like this changing their 100-year history to allow jeans to be worn? Disgusting!” said Brenda.

She turned to me with a fake smile and asked, “What kind of name is Shirin, anyway?”

“It’s Persian. I was born in Iran. I immigrated here when I was 16.”

It was clear to me that she was just trying to make small talk. She wasn’t interested in learning anything about me.

“Oh, a foreigner I see. I thought you must have been Italian or something. Do you have papers? Is that your sudden interest in Mark here?” she asked, looking at Mark.

“No Brenda,” Mark said. “I met Shirin while I was working in New York. Working. That’s something that
some
people do to support the lavish spending habits of others who do not work. Shirin is a very smart, hard-working girl.”

“Well, you don’t talk funny,” said Brenda, crossing her arms in front of her. “Mark, are you sure she’s who she really says she is?”

The battle lines had been drawn. If this was going to be how the rest of the evening would go, I had already earned more than the dress and shoes Mark insisted we get a few hours earlier.

“Actually, that’s a funny story. Back home, I had a VHS tape of the movie
Grease.
I know it’s a really old movie, but I loved it. Every day after school, I would play it so I could practice speaking English. I can still recite every line by heart. I must have seen it a thousand times. By the time my family was notified that we had received clearance to emigrate, I had watched it so many times that the picture wouldn’t even play anymore. Fortunately, the sound still worked.”

“Shirin really helped us solve a major issue today,” Fred said.

“Was the coffee machine out of beans or something?” Brenda snapped.

Fred leaned over to Brenda and whispered, “That’s enough.” She just rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’m so happy to see Mark finally find someone to settle down with,” Brenda said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Let’s head into the dining room so we can have our dinner,” Fred said, getting up from the table. We followed him as he walked toward the dining room.

The maitre d’ showed us to a table near the windows. The sun was setting over the Silicon Valley skyline. It was an incredible view.

Fred asked the waiter to bring a bottle of Cristal champagne. He came back carrying four champagne flutes with the bottle. I jumped a little when he popped the cork out of the champagne. As he poured each glass, the bubbles nearly spilled over. Fred raised his glass and said, “A toast to your engagement! May your marriage bring you joy and happiness.” Everyone picked up their glass and toasted.

I could see that Fred was genuinely happy for his son. I felt a little guilty knowing that none of it was real.

“So Sharon, what made you decide to come to California?”

“Brenda, it’s Shirin,” Mark said, in an exasperated tone.

“I’m starting Stanford this semester. I’ll be studying engineering. I’m so excited. It seems like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this to happen.”

“Engineering, huh?” Brenda scoffed. “You know, girls who are too smart don’t do too well finding a husband. You may want to think about that. I would if I were you.”

Mark jumped in. “Brenda, Shirin is already engaged to marry someone—me. I don’t think she will be looking for another husband any time soon. I love Shirin for both her looks and her brain. But especially her brain,” Mark said, smiling as he looked at me.

“Well, you know how fickle you are when it comes to women, Mark. Shirin, honey if I were you, I wouldn’t count on this man marrying you until the moment he says, ‘I do.’”

Man, was it getting deep in here...

Clearly trying to change the subject, Fred asked, “Shirin, will you be living on campus?”

“No. I still need to find an apartment. I’ll be staying in a hotel until then. Hopefully, it won’t take me too long to find an affordable place. I’ve heard that finding housing near school can be very challenging.”

“Nonsense. We have a vacant corporate apartment a few blocks away from campus. You will stay there,” Fred proclaimed.

Fred’s offer was incredibly generous. If I hadn’t suddenly found myself penniless, I probably wouldn’t have accepted it. Before I could respond, Mark jumped in. “That sounds like a great idea, Dad.”

Just then, the waiter came to take our orders. Good—a little reprieve from Brenda’s relentless grilling. I didn’t want to release too much information in case Brenda wanted to check out my story.

“Once you’re settled with your school schedule, I would like to talk to you about an internship with our company. I’m very happy to see the dedication you have to your education, Shirin. I know so many people these days think college is a waste of time and money. I know that I personally got a lot out of my education, as did most of the people I went to school with.”

“Of course. I’ll look forward to that.”

It was hard for me to believe this was truly happening. In an instant, I’d gone from having no chance in hell of going to Stanford to everything suddenly falling into place. I could feel my chest tightening, almost as though I was waiting for reality to set in.

“How was New York?” Brenda asked Mark.

“It was good.”

“I see you made the news
again
...” Brenda said, with a lingering sneer on the word
again.

Upon hearing her words, Mark’s posture stiffened. I could see the disappointment in Fred’s face. It occurred to me they were talking about the accident I had seen in the paper.

“Oh that! I’m really sorry about that,” I exclaimed without thinking. “While we were sitting in the car, I was admiring my engagement ring and I dropped it. We were both looking for it. I thought it might have fallen underneath the emergency brake. When I tried to look, the car started rolling. Before I knew what was happening, we were halfway down the hill. That’s how I got this bruise on the side of my face.” I said, lifting my hair up for them to see.

I could see Fred trying to grasp what I had just said. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to believe my story.

“I hope you had insurance for the car. I can pay the deductible. Again, I’m sorry. I had no idea the newspaper would report the accident. At least we got out in time before the flames erupted. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to Mark.”

Fred started to look a little relieved. Mark put his hand on my knee under the table. Even though I lied to his dad and stepmom, I could tell he appreciated my effort.

“See Brenda, it wasn’t what you thought at all,” Fred said, turning to Brenda. I could see Fred was pleased his son hadn’t screwed up again. “Don’t worry about the deductible, Shirin. Did Mark take you to the hospital to make sure that you’re OK? You should be checked out to make sure nothing is wrong.”

“No, I’m fine. But thank you for your concern,” I said, pulling my hair back in place to cover the bruise.

“Did they find the ring?” Brenda asked. It seemed like she asked this question to verify my story. It did seem a little implausible. But, it could have happened that way.

“No. We asked the firefighters to look for it. They said it was nowhere to be found. I loved the ring, too.”

Mark turned to me and said, “I know you were ecstatic with your engagement ring. This weekend, maybe we can see if we can’t find you another one you’ll like even better.”

Fred took a deep breath and sighed. Looking at me, he said, “You remind me a little of Mark’s mother.”

It was clear losing Mark’s mother was one of the biggest losses in Fred’s life. I’m sure she meant a lot to both Mark and Fred.

“You know, Mark, I still have your mother’s wedding ring. I bought it for her when we were first out of college. The diamond probably isn’t nearly as large as what was in the ring you bought for Shirin. But, if that doesn’t bother Shirin, I’m sure your mother would be smiling down from heaven knowing her son was happy and that such a lovely girl was wearing her wedding ring.”

“I would like that. Shirin, I would be honored if you would wear my mother’s ring,” Mark said.

I looked over at Mark. “I would be proud to. I just hope I can be half as good a wife as your mother was.” I could feel how much they both missed Mark’s mother.

We finished our dinner without any more major incidents. Boy, Mark wasn’t kidding about his stepmother being a piece of work. It’s no wonder he calls her his step-monster. After we had our dessert, we said our goodbyes and left the restaurant.

“
T
hank you
!” Mark said, kissing me on the cheek as he opened the door for me to get into the car. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. Why did you take the blame for the car crash?”

“I don’t know. I could just see how disappointed your father was. He really does want to be proud of you, Mark. I guess it’s a good thing your dad isn’t mad at me.”

“No, he wasn’t mad. He’s very smitten with you, actually. He isn’t one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but I can tell he likes you.”

“What kind of car did I supposedly crash, anyway?”

“It was a 1959 Porsche 356. Silver.”

“Do I even want to know what a car like that is worth?”

“Oh, it’s definitely a collectors’ car. Somewhere between 120 and 400.”

“Thousand dollars?” I sputtered.

“Um, yeah...”

I started to feel even worse about how we were deceiving Mark’s father. There was something about Fred that I liked. He was strong. Confident. And, even though he was able to manage hundreds of people who work for him in his business, it seemed like getting his son under control had been one of the biggest challenges of his life.

We needed to change the subject. I said, “I don’t think your stepmother likes me very much.”

Mark just laughed. “Um… she doesn’t like anyone very much. So, you’re in very good company. The one thing she loves most of all is my dad’s money. Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Mark put his hand on my arm. “Do you want to come home with me for a night cap?”

“Mark Woodham. Even though I am your fiancee, and even though I saved your butt—twice today—I’m still not that kind of girl,” I said teasingly.

Oh, but if he only knew how much I wanted to be that kind of girl. The twilight sun showed his features in a way I had not seen before. Strong. Handsome. And yet, still so vulnerable. There was certainly more to Mark Woodham than meets the eye.

“Why don’t we go down to Stanford tomorrow morning and get your tuition paid. I think we’d better open a new bank account for you, too. Oh, and this time, no one else’s name should be on the account.”

Deep down, I knew this charade was wrong. But, right now, it seemed like the only option I had for going to Stanford. I hoped no one would get hurt by this game of ours.