by Lily Menon
“He called himself a ‘terminator,’” Heather said, as if she still couldn’t believe this was real life. She held up the business card. It had the same Break Up branding as the guy’s T-shirt. Underneath, there was a line that read, Scan QR code for details about your breakup, with a QR code underneath.
“Yeah. I know.” Annika noticed the hard edge to her voice. “I’m really sorry.”
“What … what’ll this code do?” Heather looked completely baffled.
Annika took a deep breath and wondered how to phrase what she had to say kindly. There was no way to phrase it kindly. Hudson Craft had put her in this position. Jerk. “I think it goes to a video that Yuri’s recorded for you, telling you more about why he’s breaking up with you.”
Heather laughed. “No way. It’s got to be a joke or a scam, right? I mean, there’s no way Yuri would do something—” She stopped, her eyes far away. “Except he said Yuri didn’t want to do couples counseling. I only brought that up last week, and no one else knew we’d talked about it. And my Hello Kitty pajamas and electric toothbrush.” She laughed again, but this time, it was a hollow, thin sound. “Right. They tell you the details so you know it was really your partner who hired them.” She scanned the QR code with her phone and a video of a thin guy with a scruffy goatee popped up. “Yuri.” The defeat in Heather’s voice made Annika’s heart ache. “It’s really him.”
Seriously. How could Hudson Craft be okay with this? “I’m sorry,” she said again, wishing she could say something else more helpful. “Here.” She thrust her un-drunk latte at Heather. “You need this more than me.”
Heather took the cup. “Thanks.”
“Do you want me to walk with you? I assume you’re going to work?”
Heather looked down at herself, as if she were checking. “Yeah … yeah, I was. But you know what?” She threw her briefcase into the back of her convertible. “I think I’m gonna take a beach day today.”
Annika smiled. “Great idea.”
Heather nodded, got in her car, and with a brief wave at Annika, squealed out of the parking garage.
* * *
Annika marched past her office and into Hudson Craft’s, her blood boiling. She wasn’t even sure why exactly she was going to speak to Hudson; it wasn’t like he was going to suddenly change his mind and decide to join a monastery to atone for his evil ways. Maybe it was stupid, but there was a part of her that was having a really hard time believing that the guy she knew in Vegas was okay with what she’d just seen. A part of her felt there had to be a different explanation. She had to see what it was for herself.
Blaire was sitting in a papasan chair texting, dressed in a Break Up T-shirt and shorts, but the moment she saw Annika, she set the phone down and walked over. “Can I help you?” she said, her eyes glinting.
Blaire was the kind of person who seemed to be tethered to social norms—like not tearing out the eyeballs of someone you disliked—by only the most gossamer of threads. Annika took a hasty step back. “Where’s Hudson?”
“In his office.” Blaire gestured behind her. “But he can’t be disturbed. He’s in the middle of a really big project right now.”
“This won’t take more than a minute,” Annika said, edging around her.
Blaire was at least three inches shorter than her, but she drew herself up. “Make an appointment.”
“Blaire!” It was Hudson’s voice. “If it’s our nosy neighbor, you can let her in.”
Blaire shook her head and stepped aside. Annika turned the corner and stepped into Hudson’s office, only to find herself momentarily breathless. His office alone was about as big as Annika and June’s entire space. The windows were enormous, and unlike the street view she had, his faced a gorgeous green space. Oh, the magic she could’ve made in a space like this one!
Instead of magic, he had a Pac-Man rug under his plain white desk, which looked like it had come from Ikea—about ten years ago. There was a malformed wooden bowl on his desk, full of an assortment of fruit. His walls were covered with retro video game posters, and one large, bare wall had a glow-in-the-dark basketball hoop screwed into it. Directly behind Hudson were framed accolades and magazine articles featuring his arrogant, smiling face. The only aesthetically pleasing thing in here was a large ombre clay pot on a shelf by itself, its turquoise hues fading to a deep blue, fading to a deep indigo, and then a pale lavender.
Hudson leaned back in his chair, which, after a second look, she realized was a giant exercise ball painted to look like a globe. As if he were really leaning into his evil world domination plan. “So,” he said. “Is it just me or are you just … there every time I turn around?”
Annika rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I couldn’t wait to come to this daycare of an office and be near you.”
Hudson’s jaw hardened, but he didn’t say anything.
Crossing her arms, Annika continued, “I saw one of your terminators in action today.”
Blinking, Hudson leaned forward, grabbed an apple out of the bowl, and began to eat it. “Really. What’d you think?”
She couldn’t help the wrinkle in her nose, as if she’d smelled something disgusting. “It was vile. Absolutely brutal and awful. This woman had been going out with her asshole boyfriend for a year. They were going to start couples counseling.”
“Oh. So they weren’t happy. It couldn’t have come as a surprise, then.”
Annika stared at him. There was no way he really thought that. “Are you part robot? Do you not have a single feeling?”
Hudson stopped munching to think. “Oh, wait, here comes one now. It’s … sadness? No, wait … it’s … I’m … hungry.” He took another bite of his apple, his green eyes holding hers. “Yep, definitely hungry. Does that count?”
Annika pinched the bridge of her nose, a mix of irritation and disappointment bubbling inside her. “Okay. You know what? You just go ahead and revel in your odiousness. When karma bites you in the ass, you’ll be really sorry.”
“Pretty sure karma’s on vacation, but I’ll be sure to give her your hello when she stops by.”
Annika narrowed her eyes at him. She’d thought that herself on multiple occasions before, but why the hell would Hudson think karma wasn’t working beautifully for him? The man had everything. “Whatever.” Annika turned to go.
“See ya at the party tonight.” He paused, considering her. “I assume you’re not too affronted to want to partake of the booze and ogle some good-looking men? Or women. There’ll be plenty of models to choose from.”
Annika shook her head. “Goodbye, Hudson.”
“See you later, Annika.”
* * *
Visions of Heather, the terminator, and Hudson Craft danced in her head all morning until finally, at noon, Annika grabbed her purse from the closet. “I’m gonna get some lunch,” she said to June, who was busy coding. “Want anything?”
June shook her head, but didn’t look up from her computer, which was par for the course—when she really got into what she was doing, she’d mentally disappear for hours at a time, and the office would seem as if no one was there. Annika usually didn’t mind the solitude, but today it was giving her way too much time and space to think. She wasn’t even able to get into doing a pitch outline for EPIC. In any case, she still had weeks to go, so she could afford to step away for a little bit.
Annika took the elevator down and headed north on Worthington Avenue, toward the little restaurant that had the most delicious quinoa bowls she’d ever eaten. But her annoyance and disappointment weren’t dissipating as she’d hoped they would.
She just couldn’t believe Hudson Craft. How callous did you have to be to not care at all about people being dumped in such a cold, unfeeling way? What kind of person came up with a company like Break Up in the first place? Where was the guy who’d told her he thought the arts were seriously undersupported and that tech could be the way to change that? Where was the guy who’d caressed her cheek with such heartbreaking tenderness that A
nnika had pressed his hand to her face and closed her eyes, just to revel in the moment? Where was the guy who’d pulled out her chair, who’d walked on the outside of the sidewalk because he was just that chivalrous? It was like she was now getting to know his evil twin.
Telling her she needed help attracting beta testers? Ha. Make Up might not have the level of success Break Up had acquired, but they were doing okay—they’d get there one day. And to imply that she would still go to the rooftop party, eager to guzzle his free drinks and enjoy his shallow entertainment? As if she was so desperate that she needed Hudson to set up this amazing networking opportunity for her. She had to cream him at EPIC. It was the only way she’d ever be at peace.
There was a sudden clot of people on the street in front of her, blocking her passage. Annika frowned, trying to dodge them before she realized it was a mariachi band, warming up to play.
She stood back and watched them for a few minutes as an idea began to take root in her mind. Grinning, Annika pushed through the crowd. Hudson wouldn’t know what hit him.
* * *
After lunch, she strode into the office to find June still hard at work.
“Hey,” Annika said breathlessly. June didn’t look up. She had the dogged look of someone with her sights on an enemy target, the keyboard her weapon, the unsatisfactory aggression algorithm the enemy. “Hellooo.” Annika waved her hand in front of her best friend’s face. When June finally looked up, she was dazed, as if she was surprised to find herself in an LA office instead of inside the actual code.
“Oh. Hey. What time is it?” She checked the clock and gasped. “Four o’clock? Where have you been all afternoon?”
Annika smiled at her, hoping it looked enthusiastic and not deranged. “I had the best idea. Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in on everything. But first, do we still have that banner from our booth at the SBA event back in January?”
“I think so.” June got up and was halfway to the storage closet when Annika noticed what she was wearing.
“You changed,” she said, trying not to sound accusatory. Never before in the history of June’s many varied hookups had she made an effort to look nice for her date. She was gorgeous enough that they wouldn’t have cared if she showed up wearing a giant paper bag, and she knew it.
June turned pink. Her hands smoothed down her one-shoulder black dress, which had a very conveniently placed cutout on her chest. “Kind of.”
“And you’re wearing your La Perla push-up!” Annika said, coming closer. “I’d recognize that level of cleavage anywhere.”
“So what if I am? I’ll wow our new business contacts with my brains and my boobs. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Annika agreed, tapping her foot on the carpeted floor. “Except I have a feeling you have more contact than just business contact in mind. Especially with a particular redhead?”
June looked at her blankly for a full five seconds before she caved. “Okay, fine, so I want to get into Ziggy’s pants tonight. I thought you were okay with me and him.”
“You’ve wanted to get into a lot of guys’ pants before, and it never involved an LBD and La Perla.” Annika narrowed her eyes as June walked back to her chair and sat down. “You’re not going to go and develop feelings for my sworn enemy’s minion, are you?”
June rolled her eyes, pulled a fuchsia lipstick out, and did her lips, using her phone as a mirror. “Okay, firstly, he’s not Hudson’s minion. He’s his developer, his right-hand man.”
“Not the point!” Alarm bells were going off in Annika’s head.
“And secondly,” June continued, speaking over her as she put her lipstick away, “this is just a hookup. Seriously. June Stewart isn’t ready to settle down anytime soon. You know that.”
After a beat, Annika relaxed and huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I do know that. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
June got up and pulled the rolled-up banner from the closet. “What do we need this for?”
Annika grinned. “Walk with me and I’ll show you.”
* * *
By the time they got up to the rooftop, the debauchery was already in full swing. Annika stood by the entrance, looking around in disbelief.
The music thumped beneath her ballet flats. A traveling bar had been set up to the immediate left, where a bartender who almost definitely played Black Panther’s body double was expertly mixing cocktails with top-shelf liquor.
Although she couldn’t see Hudson yet, a long line had already formed in front of the bar, consisting of people Annika vaguely remembered from their blank stares in the elevator. Now, though, those very same nine-to-five zombies had transformed into party animals—ties loosened, sleeves rolled up, bags discarded. Women were putting their hair up into no-nonsense buns to deal with the heat, losing their blazers and cardigans. Models who made Greek gods and goddesses look like trolls were already circulating around with perfect canapes, bright smiles on their beautiful faces. Next to the bartender, someone was setting up a large chocolate fountain. A man juggling what looked like glass orbs walked past them, dressed only in skin-tight, cheetah-print pants.
“Shit,” Annika whispered, darting a glance at June, who looked impressed. Seeing Annika’s face, she quickly rearranged her features into a neutral mask.
“Meh. I’ve seen better.” She gestured to the banner and bags. “What do you want to do with our stuff?”
Annika pushed her shoulders back and shook out her hair. “Let’s get in and get set up.”
Chins held high, they walked across the rooftop, ignoring the curious looks they got from the partygoers, refusing every single canape offered by the catering staff. They had every right to do what they were doing. Annika refused to let herself be intimidated by superficial flashiness. The whole party might as well be a metaphor for Break Up. All flash, no substance. Those canapes were probably 90 percent air.
The east side of the L-shaped rooftop was dominated by a pergola, under which stood a small trestle table and folding chairs. Red and silver heart-shaped balloons Annika had tied up an hour ago fluttered from the pergola beams, the foil catching the late-afternoon sun. June set her bags down on the table and fished out take-out containers full of food, as well as a set of plates and glasses for each of them. After kicking off her shoes, Annika stood on the chairs and hung their banner from the pergola, then stood back and admired her handiwork.
“This is gonna be good.” June waggled her fingers at Ziggy, who’d been watching them with a small frown on his face. He gave her what he probably thought was a breezy wave back and ended up soaking his sleeve with his drink. June didn’t seem to notice. “I don’t see Hudson, though.”
Annika scanned the rooftop. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Let’s just do our thing. He’ll find us.”
June nodded, and then looked toward the entrance and grabbed Annika’s arm. “Oh, here they come.” Her voice was high-pitched with glee.
Annika watched as the mariachi band she’d hired—expensive, but definitely worth it—filed past the partygoers, all of whom stopped to watch, their faces a hilarious mix of confusion and surprise.
“Ms. Annika?” the bandleader said to her. “Shall we set up here?”
“Yes.” Annika gestured to the space beside the trestle table she and June were sitting at. “Please begin playing whenever you’re ready.”
The bandleader hesitated, looking at the other people on Hudson’s side of the rooftop. “There is already music playing.”
Annika smiled her sweetest smile. “But I rented this part of the rooftop, so we have as much right to play our music as they do.” She’d made sure of this when she’d spoken to the landlord earlier. “Please begin whenever you’re ready. And if you could, play the loudest, most disruptive song you can think of.”
The bandleader shrugged and nodded to his fellow bandmates, and they struck up a beautifully deafening melody. Hiding a smile, Annika watched as Hudson’s party music w
as completely swallowed by the mariachi music. His guests stood, mouths open and drinks in hand, staring at the mariachi band and Annika’s side of the rooftop. A few of them were gesturing and talking among themselves. Even the juggler had stopped to watch.
Good. She had a feeling Hudson wouldn’t be underestimating her again anytime soon. Score one for Make Up.
She turned to June and gestured to the take-out containers. “Shall we enjoy our dinner?”
June helped herself to a veggie taco. “Mmm. The view, the music, the ambience … what’s not to love?”
“Exactly.” Annika poured them each a glass of tamarind agua fresca, studiously keeping her eyes away from the other side of the rooftop, as much as she wanted to peek. The trick was to appear casual, totally in control, even though she knew Hudson, wherever he was, would get wind of what she’d done fairly quickly. And then he’d begin to uncoil.
She sipped her agua fresca, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I can’t even hear their obnoxious music anymore, can you?”
“Nope, not a note.” June swallowed, and said quietly, “Incoming.”
Trying to hide her delight, Annika looked over her shoulder to see Hudson striding toward them, his eyes laser-focused on her. He’d changed out of his blue T-shirt and was wearing a Ralph Lauren button-down, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He moved surely through the space, as if he was perfectly confident he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Annika’s smile faltered. Shit, he looked really pissed. She straightened her shoulders and brushed down her mermaid skirt, attempting to appear calmly confident, even though her palms were dampening slightly.
“What the hell?” Hudson said when he was close enough to speak to her. His eyes were spitting sparks; his face was dark, a sky before a thunderstorm. Strands of blond hair blew against his forehead, but he made no motion to smooth them away. A gentle, warm breeze blew across the rooftop, carrying his scent to her. He smelled incredible. He must’ve slapped on a little cologne—something that made her think of ocean and sand and wind and sea salt.