The elevator ride down from the Phoenix Capital boardroom was the slowest forty-five seconds of Lucy's life. Not because of the actual speed. No, the elevator was fine. Probably imported from Switzerland or Mars or wherever rich people buy their things.
It was the silence. The hollow, echoing silence of regret.
Cole didn't wait for her in the lobby.
Of course he didn't.
She stepped outside, into the blinding L.A. sunshine, and blinked. Paparazzi had apparently decided that "Tech Breakup Girl" was still headline-worthy. A couple of them shouted her name.
She ignored them. Her heart was pounding, but not because of flashing cameras.
Because of the look on Cole's face. The hurt behind that "fake?"
She needed to find him.
2 hours later – Brew & Byte
Lucy kicked open the café door like a woman on a mission. Half of L.A. might now think she was a feminist icon, but right now, she just wanted to find the guy who made pancakes like love letters.
"Seen Cole?" she asked the barista.
The barista raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"
Lucy blinked. "Tall. Kinda scruffy. Ridiculously symmetrical face. Smiles like he invented the word 'sarcasm.'"
The barista pointed out the back.
Lucy found him in the courtyard, sitting on the wooden bench he'd half-built when the café had first opened. He was sipping an iced coffee, sunglasses hiding his expression.
"Hey," she said, voice soft.
He didn't look at her. "So. Fake, huh?"
She winced. "Okay, yes. That came out wrong. Like, spectacularly wrong."
"Got that part."
"I panicked. Investors. Cameras. Pressure. I didn't mean you were fake. Just… maybe the setup was? At first?"
He looked at her then. Finally. "Was it still fake for you yesterday?"
Lucy hesitated.
No snark. No sarcasm. Just the real, terrifying truth.
"…No."
The silence returned, but it wasn't cold this time. Just loaded.
She sat beside him.
"I think I've been scared this whole time," she said. "Like, I'm finally building something real—my app, my dream—but the minute it matters, I freeze. Because I don't trust it'll last. I don't trust me to last."
Cole turned to her. "And now?"
"I want to try."
He looked down at his coffee. Then back up at her.
"Can I kiss you now, or do I need to file a partnership proposal first?"
Lucy laughed. "Kiss me, and I'll draft the term sheet later."
So he did.
Right there, next to a latte-stained bench, with sunlight filtering through fairy lights strung across a half-dead ficus tree. It was awkward and perfect, and someone probably took a photo, but she didn't care.
Because it wasn't fake.
None of it was.
Later That Night – Lucy's Apartment
They sat on her couch, laptop open, finalizing the Phoenix Capital deal. Lucy read aloud:
"'Clause 3B: Founders retain full IP control and autonomy—' Wait, does this mean I can still make my breakup playlist app?"
Cole raised an eyebrow. "Only if you promise not to use it on me."
Lucy grinned. "Can't promise. You burn my waffles, you're going on the Sad Boi list."
He rolled his eyes and pulled her closer.
Somewhere in the city, another headline was probably brewing. Something like App Queen Falls for Coffee Prince. Whatever. Let them speculate.
Because for the first time in forever, Lucy felt steady.
Grounded.
Home.
Even if she was still afraid.
Even if there were thirty more chapters of chaos, growth, and ridiculous tech drama ahead—
—for now, she had Cole.
And maybe, just maybe, love didn't need a perfect pitch.
Just a real one.