The Alpha For Her

Billie and Jennifer met Candy at their table. Looking at her nametag, Billie frowned.

“So dull,” she said.

“It does the job,” Candy said.

“Candice,” a woman cried. “There you are. How are you, roomie?”

The woman took up her nametag, reading Vera Elaine Davies. Vera was a tall slender black woman whose complexion was just shy of semi-sweet chocolate. Her hair was close cropped, and her make-up was impeccable. She wore a conservative, dusty grey pant-suit that seemed almost to clash with her skin tone. Jennifer immediately recognized her as the woman from the pool the night before.

“So sorry that I missed you at coffee this morning,” Vera said, “but I do have my routine. The gym here is wonderful. You should try it.”

And as she spoke, Jennifer could have sworn that Vera glanced at her.

“And, who are your little friends?” Vera asked.

Candy made introductions as the four sat. A waitress served coffee, and handed out cards with the menu choices.

“I saw you three last night,” Vera said, “as Tomiko was giving you the tour. I loved your suit, Candice. And, Jennifer, didn’t you look so boho.”

Jennifer tried not to frown. She was about to say something when Billie spoke.

“The boho look,” she said, “is a style of female fashion drawing on various bohemian and twentieth century influences, characterized by attempting to not look fashionable, but, rather, haphazard. Jennifer dressed comfortably. I understand that she had a long flight.”

“My,” Vera said, “aren’t we the fashion encyclopedia.”

“It’s my niche,” Billie said, smiling.

“You must have made a thorough study. But then I imagine that it’s been a lifelong passion; staring at your mommy’s dresses and all.”

Jen’s heart skipped a beat. She saw Billie’s cheeks flush.

“My mother,” Candy put in, “probably defined boho. That woman couldn’t match a skirt and blouse if they were all white.”

They all laughed, and then the waitress took their orders. Their talk then turned to their travel adventures, their wonderful amazement at the accommodations, and, of course, the little surprises.

“I think,” Vera said, “that among his other accomplishments, Mr. Dryzek is becoming a trend-setter. I would bet you that, soon enough, others will be following suit.”

“If that’s the case,” Candy said, “I think that we should all begin investing in Rene Rofe.”

Again, the table chuckled, but Vera’s laugh seemed a bit long and loud, rising above the din of the room.

As they ate, Candy tried to steer the conversation, which naturally and quickly turned to their various careers. Billie got very quiet. Vera was into online retail. She traded in exotic Indian and Asian fashions, and seemed to have a knack for discovering small manufacturers with most excellent and appealing designs.

“The Chinese,” she said, “have blossoming cottage industries, and their flair for style can be amazing. Of course, you have to sort through a lot of dreck. I nearly wore my feet to the bone in Beijing.”

“You must travel a lot,” Jennifer said.

“I have to,” Vera replied. “In this business, you simply must examine the articles. You have to feel the textures and see the colors in the sunlight. You simply cannot determine quality with a photo and description online. Don’t you agree, Billie? I believe that your site deals in fashion also, does it not?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you just love the feeling of finding something precious hidden away in some off-beat boutique in Paris?”

Billie took a breath. Jennifer wanted to say something as Vera stared at the girl. But, she was spared as the ringing tone of a fork on a glass got everyone’s attention. At the head table, Dryzek stood. The room quieted.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he said in a voice that needed no microphone. “My name is Flint Dryzek, and I want to welcome you to Serenity, and the first, of what I hope will be an annual, Site-Legs-Con conference. You are here because, in my estimation, all of your sites have legs, and it is my fervent hope that I can help you grow and mature so that your sites get beyond the jogging phase and begin to run.”

The room broke into applauds.

“You have also been chosen,” he said, “for potential leadership qualities. Building your own business takes guts, stamina, dedication, and determination; and whether that determination is the desire to succeed, or if it is born out of a passion for your goal – I don’t care. Those are the qualities of leadership, and I am looking for leaders.

“In five days, we will move from this lovely little estate to the South San Francisco Convention Center where my team, culled and handpicked from among you, will host the public Site-Legs-Con.”

A ripple went through the room. People gaped, stared at one another, and then someone stood and began to clap. The others quickly followed.

“It’ll be tough,” Flint said, waving the crowd down. “There’s twenty-four of you, and I’m weeding that down to six. I know, sounds scary. But, while this is going to be a sort of competition, the qualities that I am most looking for are cooperation and work ethic. I will be meeting with each of you, one-on-one, and I will be giving you a little challenge, so be prepared.”

A small something like a shudder swept the room.

“You seem nervous,” Flint went on. “And maybe you should be. When I flew in last night, I saw a bunch of people carousing around my pool; swimming, drinking, eating, and generally throwing themselves a party. What were you celebrating?”

People began to sink in their seats.

“Was it the fact that you were ‘chosen’? Well, if it was, I hope that you enjoyed yourselves, because in feting yourselves, you not only lost a precious night of preparation, some of you are going to lose the morning nursing hangovers.

“You will notice that I’ve spared nothing in displaying for you the trappings of success. If you want that sort of success, you need to work for it. You can celebrate after you have accomplished something.”

Silence reigned.

“However,” Flint said. “I understand that there was a single exception. Ms. Vera Davies? Where are you?”

Vera hesitantly raised a hand, and at Flint’s urging, stood. Even beneath her dark skin, Jennifer could see her blush.

“What did you do last night, Ms. Davies?”

“I…” Vera began, hesitantly, “I was shown my room. I showered. I took a dip in the pool – to relax, and then I went back to my room to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“For – for I really don’t know what. I wanted to be at the top of my game, and so I reviewed my records and accounts, looked at my projections and tried to refine some points and–”

“And prepared,” Flint said nodding. “That’s a quality that I’m looking for. I’d like to discuss your projections with you – say over dinner tonight?”

The rich, ebon color returned to Vera’s face. She took a breath and held herself proud.

“I would be honored, Mr. Dryzek.”

“Call me Flint. Dinner is at eight. Formal.”

“Yes, Flint.”

He nodded, Vera smiled and sat, and then Flint took in the rest of the room.

“And so now,” he said, “I’m going to give you all a little challenge. “Just off the cuff here. By six o’clock tonight, I want a design for a website that will walk a seventeen-year-old college freshman through his or her first semester course selections. You don’t have to build it; just design it. If you have any questions, answer them yourselves. You’ll be sent an e-mail address to deliver your project.”

People began looking at one another and murmuring. Jennifer sat silent, staring at Flint and trying hard to sort her confusion. Then a young girl at his table, who Jennifer hadn’t seen, whispered something in his ear. Flint smiled, then chuckled.

“Okay,” he said over the crowd. “I’m told that I’m being mean. So, you can work triads, if you like. Have a nice day.”

Most people sat stunned. Dryzek and his entourage stood to leave. But even as he did, Dryzek caught Jennifer’s eye. That small smiled flicked his face, and he mouthed the words, “nice outfit.”