Raising Elizabeth

It Happened One Night

The ballroom at the Washington Hilton was filled with dark suits. Even thought it was 90 degrees and sweltering, these guys were in power uniform : pinstripes, ties, expensive watches. There were 100 people at this party, 90 were men, 9 were off duty Washington Redskins cheerleaders, and me.

I would normally have felt uncomfortable in this crowd, but I'd just flown in from San Francisco for this event, done a quick change at the airport and arrived to discover that this ballroom, in this hotel, was the same room where I'd attended my High School prom years before. Back then I'd been wearing a hot pink halter dress and fit right in. The memories came flooding back and after getting the bartender to mix me up a Sapphire and Tonic, I was enjoying scoping out the room to see if I could find the "scene of the crime" .... But that's another story.

The event was a cocktail party held by Annapolis Capital. Each year they'd pull together all their clients and wine and dine them in DC. In hopes that they could do all their investment banking business and help the "1%" stay the "1%". I was a fish out of water. Not a man. Not wearing a power suit. Not a client. Not a 1%. Not a fan of the Washington Redskins. What was I doing here?

It was pretty clear that I was attracting a lot of attention and not necessarily for the right reasons. The party was in full swing and the guys that weren't networking were on the prowl. I realized that I'd been in Cali too long and didn't remember how conservative Washington and the whole East Coast was.

I'd slipped on my go-to night time uniform of skinny jeans, a spaghetti strap suede top, and sky-high platform cage sandals, perfect for virtually any event in the Bay Area, but here I felt like I'd been caught sneaking into a grown-up party. Not good since I wanted to be taken seriously by all the potential investors in attendance tonight. My iPad mini was ready in my purse and I hoped to be demoing my app to any one who'd listen, but my confidence was wavering.  I debated escaping before doing any damage to my reputation or sucking up my courage, having another drink and going for it.

Before I could decide, a striking man approached me and introduced himself. He looked just like the film star Robert Redford in "The Way we Were". Blond hair and riveting blue eyes that perfectly matched the striped rep tie he wore around his neck. "I'm Dan Wickham. This is my party. People call me Wick, " he said, his voice with just a hint of a southern accent. He eyed me up and down as if wondering how I got in. Starting with my shoes, then traveling up my body until staring right into my face. It was the kind of once-over I hated, but had problems avoiding.

I was not beautiful, but my looks attracted attention. With long wavy auburn hair, bright blue eyes, and a sun kissed tan I looked like I belonged on a sailboat in Nantucket. I was a guys' girl ... fun, adventurous, low maintenance. Not a beauty queen by any stretch, but people said I had a certain "something".

I knew this Dan Wickham kind of guy. Aging Frat Boy meets Master of the Universe who uses his looks, personality and connections to get what he wants. After sizing me up, He asked me, "Are you with the Redskins?"

Stifling laughter and a bit of panic, I answered , "I'm Elizabeth Bennett. Thank you for inviting me."

Now was the moment of truth. I wanted to do a full introduction, tell him that I'd been invited on behalf of my company, Watchable, but I just couldn't. This whole scene of bankers, investors, and paid for eye candy made me think twice.

The next second changed everything. I decided to have some fun. "Yes, I am with the Redskins, but I'm living in SF and working for the 49ers now. A friend invited me to crash your party."

"Well that's great, he said. Always room for another pretty face here".

Now I knew I was in trouble. My little game with this guy was backfiring. I needed to leave now before being discovered.

We stopped first at the bar. "What are you drinking?", he asked.

For some unknown reason I answered "Kamikaze". (I'm convinced now that was a residual memory from my Senior Prom!) He howled with laughter at that and called over a group of Japanese bankers standing close by. "Elizabeth here just asked for Kamikazes. Join us gentlemen?"

Next thing you know I'm drinking shots with 4 bankers. We drank the first round with them yelling "Kamikaze!" very loudly. People were watching this and we were attracting a crowd.

Next round was for 20 guys. And another loud cry of "Kamikaze". Everyone was talking loudly. I was being introduced as "Lizzie from the Skins" and "she's from California". The actual Redskins Cheerleaders were mingling on the other side of the room. I was kind of terrified they'd join us, but after warming up with the Kamikazes I was feeling comfortable now, but also guilty since I was supposed to be working.

My phone buzzed and I excused myself to take the call. It was one of my board members, George, a Russian financial wizard and one of my first investors. "Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie, what's up?", he asked. He wanted an update on the investor event.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you. I'm chatting up a bunch of bankers".

"Cool, I'm sure you're charming them. "

I didn't correct him. Sure, I was charming them, but then they all thought I would be suiting up in a sparkly gold cheerleading costume on Sunday and shaking my moneymaker. I signed off and decided to bolt from the party. Nothing good could come from staying there.

Thinking I'd just flown 3000 miles, made a fool of myself, and now unclear how I'd handle all my business meetings the next day, I decided to slip out the back door without being seen. Just then I saw Wickham approaching and took off at a run. The last thing I wanted was to have to explain myself to the host, plus I guessed he might have some other ideas. And he was gorgeous.

Running as fast as my high heels would go, I ran into a revolving door in the lobby, trying to escape. Unfortunately, the door didn't give and I went sprawling on the marble floor. My purse flew off, spilling it's contents all over the floor. Phone, Lipstick, Coins, Pen, Perfume, Power cords, Business Cards, Bandaids, ear buds,  and my trusty iPad scattered everywhere, not to mention a pair of underwear I'd crammed in my bag at the airport. "Shit" I yelled at the top of my lungs. As if my clumsiness wasn't bad enough, now everyone in the lobby was looking at me.

Head down, dying of embarrassment and wanting to retreat quickly I crawled around on all fours, stuffing my belongings into my purse. My phone had slid across the slick marble. Scampering across, I reached for the phone, only to have it kicked like a soccer ball further away. Mortified, I looked up to see the culprit. It was one of the Japanese bankers, laughing out loud at my predicament. His kick was like a perfect pass to one of his colleagues and then to another until it was clear that this was a sick game of keepaway with my phone.

Fighting back tears, I got up and said firmly, "Please return my phone, now". They laughed. And I realized that my phone was no where in sight. I began to panic.

"Join us for dinner and we'll return your phone," one of the men said. I realized the situation had gotten out of hand. "No thank you. Please return my phone, now."

Just then a pair of shoes came into view from my vantage point on the floor. Not a pair of Gucci Loafers or Wingtips, but Sperry Topsiders. I vaguely wondered what they were doing here.

"I believe this belongs to you," said the voice attached to the shoes. Looking up from my seat on the floor, my heart stopped. The voice belonged to a face with the greenest eyes I had ever seen.  Gathering my wits and rising to my feet I put out my hand. "Uh, yeah, thanks. That is mine."   He turned the phone over in his hand, exposing my business card taped to the back of the device and read my name out loud ...  "Elizabeth Bennett, CEO and Founder, Watchable Labs".   In that instant I recognized that I liked the sound of my name from him, but just for a moment.

"Interesting side gig for a cheerleader, isn't it?"  he said, his beautiful mouth twisting into a smirk.

Mortified, I grabbed the phone and turned to leave before anything else happened.

The handsome stranger stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennett"

"Um, thank you. Mr .....?"

"Darcy. Mark Darcy". I left wondering about the mystery man who had rescued me.