The Alpha For Her

Chapter 10

“What are you saying?” Jennifer asked.

“About Billie’s posterior? Well–”

“No! About things here not being fair.”

“Oh, Jennifer,” Candy said. “I am sure that you are familiar with the quote from Lord Acton: ‘Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’.”

“What?”

“Of course, I’ve always wondered if there ought not have been a comma between the words ‘corrupts’, and ‘absolutely’. Could give a whole new breath of air to the thought.”

“What are you saying? Are you saying that Flint has this whole thing rigged?”

“The man does have absolute power here,” Candy said. “Sunning ourselves, and playing his little games as we have been, there has been no news as to the mudslides, or this estate’s place in the local emergency.”

“But we’re safe,” Jennifer said. “Why does that matter?”

“Information,” Candy said, “particularly regarding our safety and well-being, ought to be open and available, but we’ve heard nothing more. And what worries me is, what else is the man hiding? What other little surprises has he in store?”

Jennifer couldn’t answer.

“But,” Candy went on, “I can do little about my worries — and everything about my challenge. So, back to the matter at hand. I want to win this thing – lord knows, I could use the money.”

“So could I,” Jennifer said. “But not if I win by cheating.”

“Oh, balls,” Candy cried. “This is not grade-school. This is not a situation where everyone has inclusion, and no one is better than another. There is money at stake here – cold, hard cash; there will be winners and there will be losers and that’s the fact.”

“But…”

“But, do you want to win?”

“Not by stealing other people’s work.”

“I’m not stealing their work. I’m stealing their research – just saving some time. Now you can either work with me, or I can delete my database, and we can spend the next three hours sloughing through things everyone else has already done.”

Jennifer’s first reaction was the delete option; her heart insisted. But her brain saw her slogging away that lovely day combing through boring web pages and ending up with a pile of data that they would only have to winnow through. Candy’s hack was simply a time saver, and they needed the time to come up with something that stood out.

“What if Dryzek finds out?”

“He’d probably give us a prize.” Candy replied. “So, shall I allow my program to continue to collect and sort, while we think of how to be brilliant?”

“Just…just don’t tell the others.”

“Mes lèvres sont scellées.”

“Huh?”

“My lips are sealed. Now let’s get creative. Imagine that you are a high school student with dreams of becoming the next Mark Zuckerberg. What would you be looking for in a curriculum?”

“Depends,” Jennifer said, musing. “If I had a goal, then I’d look for anything that could help me plan for that goal. If I didn’t, then I’d want something that could help me discover and refine.”

“Excellent! So, we have two categories: planners and dreamers…”

They tossed ideas about a while, and when they felt that they had a basic framework, Candy’s program had finished, and they had a manageable pile of course listings. They called Billie and Vera back, and set about sorting. But despite all of their work, when they had a structure and outline done, Candy frowned.

“Vanilla,” she said.

“But it’s good vanilla,” Billie said.

“But it’s going to be like every other vanilla. We need that vanilla on top of a banana surrounded by strawberry and chocolate ice cream, drowning in butterscotch syrup and a mound of whipped topping with a cherry on top.”

“We could use pics.”

“Merde.”

“Maybe we need some distance,” Vera suggested. “Let things collate a while.”

“Or maybe,” Jennifer said, “we need another perspective. A high schooler’s perspective.”

“Sound’s lovely,” Candy said. “But where might we get such a perspective?”

Just then, all four of their phones toned. Four hands reached for four devices and four heads read the text. It seemed that the evening’s seminars and workshops were rescheduled as Mr. Dryzek would be presenting a panel discussion on goal-setting. Jennifer was unsure what to make of that.

“Absolute power,” Candy said.

Jennifer called Alaiah. The girl was flabbergasted that Jenny was asking for her help, but she sounded pained when she explained that she couldn’t get away till the next afternoon, after school.

“That’s okay, sweetie,” Jennifer said, “I totally understand. But, this has to be an absolute secret. No one, especially your father, can know. Perhaps we could meet in the vineyard or something.”

“No,” Alaiah said. “I have a much better idea. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”

After they had secured their meeting with a high-schooler, at Billie’s urging they divided their efforts; she and Candy worked on the structure of the site, while Vera and Jennifer would work on prettying up the thing with cool graphics and pics. But after just a little while, Vera seemed to dodge again.

“I’m feeling a little out of sorts,” she said. “Maybe it’s the sun. I’m going to work in my room.”

“Slacker,” Billie muttered after Vera left.

“Or,” Jennifer suggested, “maybe something is wrong.”

After a few hours more work, the three called it a day. They went to their rooms to change for the pool. Candy was slow. She met Billie and Jennifer in the water.

“You look troubled,” Jennifer said to her.

“It’s Vera,” Candy replied. “She’s crying.”

Dinner came, and Vera showed up as if nothing were the matter. They were all dressed semi-formal in anticipation of the evening’s presentation. Afterwards, they had some time before Flint’s presentation, and the patio took on the air of a lobby before a play. Waiters walked about with Champagne. Vera strolled past the pool, alone, and through the flower garden. Jennifer followed. She found her wandering through the vineyard.

“Walk with you?” Jennifer asked.

Vera shrugged.

“Lovely evening,” Jen said.

“Yes.”

They walked silent a while, Jennifer was framing how to approach her about what was bothering her, when Vera asked,

“What did Candice mean when she said, ‘absolute power’?”

“She thinks that Flint is some sort of manipulator; that he’s getting his jollies by playing puppet-master and making us all dance to his tunes.”

“Well, we are, aren’t we?”

“I suppose. But why should this be any different?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m not surprised,” Vera said, stopping by a cluster of new, green grapes. “I wonder if he makes wine with all of these. Or maybe he sells them.”

“Don’t know. So, you agree with Candy?”

“Sort of. Do you know anything about the man?”

“Not really,” Jennifer said. “Just that he is rich, has a kid, and can do just about anything he wants. I’m not into the lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

“I am.”

Vera started walking down the vine, looking at clusters, feeling their budding and inhaling their aroma.