Maddie widened her eyes at Delia and whispered, “Say something.”

“Like what?” Delia said. “If she wants to work, let’s work.”

Delia tugged at her sleep tee and settled into the armchair across from the screen.

Lucy’s head was still in her bag. Maddie walked to her and put a hand on her forearm. Lucy stiffened, and Maddie removed it.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But the presentation isn’t important right now.” Maddie tried to get Lucy to look at her. “Have you seen your Pulse today? It’s not . . . great. But I’m pretty certain he’s retaliating through it.” Lucy still refused to meet Maddie’s eyes, but Maddie continued. “I think Ryan’s personally manipulating Pulse accounts for his own purposes.”

“Well, of course he is,” Lucy snapped. “How do you think I got to Crushing It so fast?”

“Wait, what?” Delia said.

“And Emma . . .” Maddie said.

“Sure, I’m sure. I mean, you should have seen them in the club.” Lucy shuddered and tossed her bag to the floor, giving up the search for her notebook. “But I did. I saw them. How could I be so stupid?”

“You’re not,” Maddie said.

“I had drinks with him.”

“So?”

“I smiled and laughed. I flirted.”

“And?”

“I led him on. I—”

“Did nothing to invite him to put his hands on you—and not remove them when you said to.”

Lucy’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, and Maddie began to rethink her decision to approach Lucy so soon.

Eventually Lucy gave a derisive laugh. “A million. He actually offered a million dollars.” She gave a weak smile. “Flattering, right?”

“No,” Maddie said. “It’s sick. He’s sick. He’s thirtysomething going on eight. This is all . . .” She drew in a breath. “Listen, when the beta test was such a success, even I wanted this. To win. But now to win what? A Pulse internship? Do any of us even want that anymore?”

Delia leaned over the back of her chair. “But Pulse isn’t the same as Ryan, is it?”

“Maybe not,” Maddie said, unconvinced. “But remember the lecture? The leader sets the tone. And if this is Pulse’s tone . . .” Maddie paused, knowing she wasn’t like her teammates. They wanted to win more than she did, they always had. And Lucy . . . who knew how long she’d had Ryan up on that pedestal. Her idol, all she aspired to be. To have him not just tumble but tumble like this, with what he tried to do—was doing—must have been making her question everything.

Maddie understood the feeling, even though she’d never shared it. “He can’t get away with it,” she blurted out. “We can’t keep letting guys get away with this crap.”

Delia pushed herself out of the chair. “Maddie . . . did something—”