Free Learning Curve by Michael S. Malone

He gave her a quick kiss and returned to his conversation.
    But Alison, as always, did wait up, if only to make sure that Dale was safe. Finally, her eyes heavy, she undressed and put on one of her latefather’s old dress shirts, one he’d worn to IBM’s Almaden Research laboratory back in the day. She left the curtains open and climbed into bed. As she reclined against the headboard with the blankets tucked under her chin, she looked out on the lights of the Financial District and thought. As always, she willed herself to begin with memories of good times with Dale… but as always, within minutes, her mind moved to the next set of challenges facing eTernity and how she would deal with them.
    And it was with those oddly comforting thoughts of her company, her employees, and her own role as CEO, that Alison gently slipped into sleep.

v. 2.3
    S he awoke early to find Dale snoring beside her, his hair across his face, his clothes balled up on the bedroom floor. She made as much noise as possible while putting on her running clothes, half-hoping that he would wake up and pull her back into bed. When those efforts failed, she shrugged and made her way out the door and down the elevator to the street.
    It was a beautiful morning, the great City just awakening. Alison smiled briefly at the old black man who was emerging from behind the cardboard barricade he created each night in a nearby alcove. The man, who never spoke or asked for money, nodded gravely at her.
    Alison felt unusually charged this morning. Perhaps it was yesterday’s news. It had begun by being so troubling, but by the time she had fallen asleep, it had begun to seem like an opportunity. She had left her cell phone in the apartment, and now she had an uncomplicated, uninterrupted hour or more to jog down the Embarcadero past the many piers—from the Ferry Building to Fisherman’s Wharf, then all the way back—and to work through her company’s response. A run, a challenge, and a beautiful morning: it was all she needed to be happy.
    By the time she returned to the apartment, her face and pony-tailed hair slick and oily with sweat, the street was filled with cars. More than one besuited businessman sneaked a peek at the trim blonde in black running tights and Google publicity t-shirt as she paced back and forth on the sidewalk to cool down.
    When she returned to the apartment, she found that Dale had managed to turn over on his stomach. Hoping that he still might awaken in time, she stripped down to her sports bra and panties and set about noisily making espresso and a bowl of granola, yogurt, and fruit. But it was to no avail. And it was only after checking to see if his breathing had softened at all that she glanced over at the cellphone she’d left on the nightstand… and saw that she had a message.
    A lump formed in her throat. Phone calls this early in the morning were never good news. She grabbed the phone. Glancing down at Dale, she decided she’d rather take the news alone and went into the bathroom.
    Before she hit the Play button, Alison checked the number. Menlo Park. Odd. Less worried now, she played the message.
    It was the deep, sonorous voice of Arthur Bellflower, legendary venture capitalist and chairman and lead investor in eTernity. “Alison,” his voice said, “I apologize for calling so early in the morning. I hope you are there and are awake. I need you to come down to my office immediately. Shall we say 9:30? I will leave a message at your office as well.” She could hear other voices, the deep voices of older men, in the room with Bellflower.
    She glanced at the clock. Eight fifteen. Shit. This was going to be close. As she turned on the shower, she made a return call to Bellflower’s secretary at Manzanita Capital to confirm the meeting. Then she hurriedly stripped and jumped in.
    Twenty-five minutes later she was dressed and driving her Prius out of the underground parking