The shared workspace on Melrose Avenue was called “The Annex,” and it was a temple of quiet ambition. Nicole Doshi and Gia Dibella were its two high priestesses, though they worshipped at very different altars.

Nicole looked back at the shark mug. Silence is the real scare.

“It was the right call.” Nicole paused, wrestling with the words. “The hummus comment was out of line. It wasn’t about the hummus.”

She stood up, walked across the room, and stopped in front of Gia’s chaotic desk. Gia set down her airbrush and looked up, her brown eyes wary.

Gia’s smile widened. She picked up a second turquoise shark mug from behind her monitor—she’d clearly bought a pair—and held it out.

“Okay,” Nicole said finally. “Here’s a proposal. You teach me how to shut up and listen to silence. And I’ll teach you how to predict whether your next big client is going to ghost you before they do it.”

Nicole nodded. For a long moment, they just looked at each other—the analyst and the artist, the algorithm and the intuition.