“Good for us. I don’t know who else is going to be there, but I don’t think that really matters. Our edge is how innovative our tech is. All we need to focus on is our energy, and make sure we convey to the panel just how big this could be.” She began pacing, her brain spitting and sparking ideas as she stepped into a strip of bright sunlight on the carpet. “We’re not just about the shiny new thing, right? We’re not about sexy hookups or one-night stands, stuff that doesn’t last. We’re about long-enduring partnerships. We’re about infusing love back into something that’s tried and true. What’s important to us is meaningful connection, making people just a little bit less lonely in this world. And we’re going to use technology to help us do that. It’s the perfect blend of cutting-edge tech and old-school heart.” She stopped at the window and looked out at the forest of skyscrapers, at all the windows, out of which hundreds of others were probably looking out, too. None of them could see each other. “There are so many people so close together in this city. In every city. And yet we’re all just like fallen leaves, scattered by the wind, swirling meaninglessly on aimless journeys. Make Up wants to give meaning to that journey.”

June shook her head. “Sounds … lonely.”

“It is lonely. At the end of the day, we’re all completely alone. We’re born alone and we die alone—didn’t someone famous say that?”

“Super-secret feature? What’s that—a binky for the especially needy clients?”

Annika turned at the brash, confident voice. Hudson Craft stood at the door, dressed in dark-wash jeans and a mint-colored polo shirt, flame-haired Ziggy by his side. She hadn’t even heard him come in, she’d been so focused on her conversation with June.

She stared at him without saying anything. Her mind flashed confusingly with images of him whispering in her ear at yoga, his hand on her inner knee, asking her “why” (she still hadn’t figured that one out—why what? Why was her app so much better than his?), the way he’d leaned in close to kiss her at the hotel in Vegas, the feeling of his gong mallet snapping in half against her thigh—and “gong mallet” wasn’t a euphemism … though snapping that gong mallet in half was an option she’d consider if things got dire enough. It was easier to think of him as an inconsequential speed bump in her life if he wasn’t actually in her office. Which brought her to her next thought: What was he doing here?