“It’s just so nice to talk to students, especially the girls. I remember this one time in high school, they had a small business owner come speak to us for Career Day. She ran a printing shop, but still—I remember how amazing it was to hear a woman talking about being her own boss, about having the power to make all the decisions. That’s when I first began to think that maybe I could do that, too. Although—did you happen to catch any of Hudson’s answers?”

June shook her head. Annika groaned. “You’re lucky. He’s insufferable. I don’t know what kinds of mental contortions you have to do to frame your heartbreaking business as a good thing, but he’s doing all of them. He thinks the world’s a stage and he’s the main attraction that we’ve all been waiting twenty-five years to see.”

June nodded. “Ziggy thinks they’re doing good work, too. He says Hudson’s a visionary.”

Annika nearly choked on her own spit. “A visionary? Of what? Broken dreams and oceans of tears? Ugh. Poor Ziggy. He’s obviously been indoctrinated.” She shook her head. “Whatever. I’m just looking forward to relaxing and putting Hudson Craft out of my mind for the rest of the day.”

June made a face and looked past Annika. “Um … then you might not like what’s coming.”

Annika looked over her shoulder to see Hudson and the Break Up team heading their way. “Oh, great,” she muttered, just as they walked up.

Ziggy went to stand by June, but Blaire stayed behind Hudson, her face a steel mask. She’d never forgiven Annika for the Nerf gun move that very first day.

“Hello again, Hudson,” Annika said, making a monumental effort to be polite.

“Annika,” he said, inclining his head a bit.

“Oh my god,” June said suddenly, her voice low. She leaned forward, ducking her head.

Annika turned to her. “What?”

June’s hands were fists. “Hedge Fund Harry,” she whispered, jerking her head toward the door.

Annika turned to see a tall, slim man in an expensive-looking gray suit. His dark hair was combed straight back, and he wore a planet-sized watch on one wrist.

“Who’s Hedge Fund Harry?” Ziggy asked in a normal voice, following their gazes.

“Shh!” June said, but it was too late.

Hedge Fund Harry turned in their direction. Annika saw the spark of recognition as he took in June, and then he was sauntering over, an easy smile on his very square face. He had a dimple in his chin—June’s Achilles’ heel. “June!” he said, too heartily. “I’ve been texting you.”

Ziggy’s hand was resting on the table, and June took it. Annika raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. “I’ve been busy,” June said.