The next morning, Lucy woke up to a group chat explosion. Her college roommate sent her a screenshot from Twitter. Then her mom. Then her mom's book club. Somehow, Lucy had gone viral.
She sat up in bed, bleary-eyed, and opened the link.
"Tech Bro Gets Burned by Ex in Best Public Breakup of the Year."
A video. Of her. At Brew & Byte. Telling Damon she'd rather make an eye-roll counter app than work with him. Cole handing her coffee like a freaking knight with Wi-Fi.
She groaned. "Oh no."
Then grinned. "Oh yes."
Because suddenly, she wasn't just Lucy Burns, small-time app developer with a very real fear of commitment and commitment-adjacent products. She was BossQueenLucy. Twitter's favorite revenge hero.
Her phone buzzed again. Email this time.
Subject: Urgent: Pitch Meeting Today at 3 PM
"Saw the clip. We're interested. Let's talk partnerships. — Phoenix Capital."
Lucy blinked.
Phoenix Capital.
A VC so big they once funded a drone-powered burrito delivery startup. It failed spectacularly, but the point was, they took bold bets.
She jumped out of bed and bolted straight into…
Cole.
Standing in her kitchen. Making pancakes. Shirtless.
"Why are you shirtless in my apartment?"
He flipped a pancake like it was a love confession. "You gave me a key last week. You forgot because you were stress-eating popcorn and yelling at Shark Tank."
"That does sound like me."
"Plus, I figured you might need breakfast. For the big day."
Lucy froze. "Wait. Did you know I was going viral?"
Cole handed her a plate. "You trended in eight countries. My grandma called. She ships us now."
Lucy buried her face in her hands. "This is mortifying."
"Or, and hear me out—awesome."
"I don't even have a pitch deck. I can't go to a VC meeting with a headline like 'Tech Bro Gets Burned.'"
Cole grinned. "Then you better eat fast. We've got a deck to build."
1:15 PM – Lucy's living room
They sat side by side on the floor, surrounded by Post-it notes, open laptops, and enough empty coffee cups to start a hipster art installation. Cole was surprisingly good at PowerPoint. Lucy was shockingly bad at staying on topic.
"You can't put a GIF of a cat in the slide titled 'Projected User Growth,'" Cole said.
"Why not? The internet runs on cats. I'm playing to the algorithm."
He smirked. "You're playing to your sleep deprivation."
She paused. "Valid."
They worked in sync, more comfortable than they had any right to be. Cole had a way of focusing her when she spun out, tossing in the right joke or logic check exactly when needed.
As they finalized the deck, Lucy's hands slowed. "What happens if they love it?"
Cole looked at her. "Then you win."
"And if they hate it?"
He shrugged. "You still win. Because you tried. You didn't let Damon define the ending."
Lucy swallowed. Something about the way he said it made her chest go funny.
2:58 p.m. – Phoenix Capital HQ
Lucy stood in a sleek marble lobby with floor-to-ceiling windows and conference rooms named after planets. Because apparently rich people had galaxy-sized egos.
Cole stood beside her, buttoned up for once, looking dangerously credible.
"You good?" he whispered.
"No. But that's never stopped me before."
The door opened.
A woman in an immaculate blazer waved them in. "Lucy Burns? We've been waiting for you."
Inside the boardroom, it was just her, Cole, and a round table of Important Suits.
The one in the center smiled. "We loved your clip. Honest. Fiery. People want real now. They want passion and a personal story. Tell us yours."
Lucy opened her mouth… and froze.
She thought of Damon. Of betrayal. Of pitching an app called "HeartBeat"—a wellness tracker that adjusts based on your emotional state—and watching him take it.
She looked at Cole. At the pancake-making, sarcasm-weaponizing guy who had backed her when she had no backup.
She inhaled. Then launched.
"HeartBeat isn't just another mood tracker. It learns from your habits, responds to your burnout signals, and helps you shift before you crash. It's for people like me, who burned out building someone else's dream. Now, I'm building mine."
There was a pause.
Then applause.
Actual applause.
The lead Suit leaned forward. "We'd like to move forward. With conditions."
Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Conditions?"
He slid over a term sheet. "You lead. Full creative control. But we want Cole on the team. The video sold more than your app. It sold you two."
Lucy choked. "Wait—so to fund my startup, I have to go public with my fake boyfriend?"
Cole blinked. "Fake?"
The air thinned.
Everyone turned. Even the woman in the blazer stopped mid-notetaking.
Lucy stared at him. He stared back.
"Is that what I am to you?" he asked, too quietly.
A beat.
Then she said, "I—no. I don't know. I thought we were just—playing along."
Cole looked at the investors, then back at her.
"Not to me."
And with that… he walked out.
Lucy stood frozen.
Damn it.
Because the worst part wasn't that she might've just lost the deal.
It was that she might've just lost him.
Oh yes.