The minute I saw the woman's face clearly, I gasped. "Wren Harrison?"
"Thank you! I told you I knew her." She directed a smug look at the concierge.
It was Wren, my childhood playmate. She looked amazing—the same heather grey eyes, the same golden wheat hair. We had been like sisters once, but life had taken us in different directions. She stood before me, her presence both unexpected and nostalgia-inducing.
"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in ages!" I greeted her with a tight hug.
"I know! It's so good to see you, Ada. I have something to show you." Wren held up a hardcover book, her eyes shining with excitement. My smile faltered a bit. There was always someone angling for a seat at the Fletchers' table. They all had their agendas.
I ushered her to a quiet corner of the lobby.
"Oh, you changed your name," I noted the cover.
"Yeah, I was married." Her rueful expression said there was a story there, but I didn't pry. "So, uh, I became a cliodynamicist. I was formally—formerly—formerly tenured at UC Berkeley, and I compiled years of my research on cultural evolution, macrosociology, and historical inflection points into this great new book called The Psychodynamics of Horde Behavior."
"That's awesome. Congratulations!" I managed a slightly awkward laugh.
"And I wanted to put this in your hands personally." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "My agent and I believe that this book is exactly what your company needs to sway public perception of ColonyASR."
I tightened the smile on my face, widening my eyes and nodding with feigned interest. Wren was in full-blown elevator pitch mode, but it was obvious she didn't have a clue what my company needed. I gave her half a minute to talk before interrupting her. "Listen, I'm swamped with work. But I'd love to see you again." I realized I meant it. I missed her. "How about you give me your contact info, and we can set up a dinner date?" I proposed.
"That would be fantastic!" Wren jotted her information in the front of her book and gave it to me. "Would it be too much to ask for you to post a thrum about it?" she asked.
At the same time, I said, "I mean it. We need to catch up!"
"Call anytime," Wren amended swiftly.
Someone from the resort arrived to escort her from the premises. Before going off in search of my mother, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. Wren Kennaway looked like she knew that she hadn't stuck her landing.