“Where are you from, Nikki?” he asked. “I’m trying to place your accent.”
“Born in Naples—but I spent a decade in London. Camden.”
“Love Camden. Excellent choice.”
The easy camaraderie between them made Nikki increasingly conscious of her lie. She should have told him she was with Phoenix Seven—that she was investigating Claire’s death—that she’d already done some internet sleuthing on him.
She redirected the conversation: “Tell me about your company.”
Teddy put out his cigarette on the pavement.
“We all imagine that the human mind is restricted,” he said. “We create these stories about ourselves and they just hold us back. The truth is: Success is your birthright. You can be—can have—whatever you want. You just need the right key to unlock your potential. That key is called MindCapsule. That’s what we do—what my company, Innovare MindCapsule, does.”
It was a practiced sales pitch—smooth and engaging. His eyes lit up as he talked. He offered her a mint and put one in his own mouth.
Their cab arrived and he held the door, helped her in.
—
As they rode, Nikki asked Teddy more questions about his company, listened, and pressed him when his descriptions were unclear. As far as she could tell, Teddy’s app,MindCapsule, primarily included tailored meditations, tonal frequencies, and musical clips, and allowed the user to send encrypted messages, files, and videos to themselves at some future date.
“Payments are on a sliding scale—based on age and profession,” he said. “I think everyone should have the opportunity to harness the power of their minds—especially young people. I wish I’d hadsomething like it when I felt trapped. I gave my kid sister her own account onMindCapsule. Wanted her to think bigger, you know?”
They were sitting close together so they could hear each other over the sounds of the radio, the engine, and traffic, close enough for her to smell the clean musky undertones of his cologne.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Nikki,” he said. “I had to say it. There it is.”
He reached down and threaded his fingers through hers. His hand was warm and dry. His eyes, illuminated by the streetlights flickering by, were clear and grey.
—
The restaurant on the twenty-fourth floor of the business tower was a place to see and be seen. Chic customers and upscale staff contrasted the grubby feeling Nikki experienced inside her second-day clothing. This was a luxury she could never afford on her own, but Enzo used to take her to places like this, with sleek booths in soft fawn leather, dark lacquered wood, and a glass-fronted wall serving as a subtly glowing wine cabinet. A mirrored ceiling reflected the warm yellow lamps on the tables, and doubled the height of the windows, showing the soft lights of the cityscape below.
The waiter escorted them to a booth near a window. Nikki experienced a brief sense of vertigo looking out over the city.
Teddy ordered an Aviation cocktail. Nikki asked for prosecco, but Teddy talked her into an Oban instead.
When the drinks arrived, he said, “What are the odds I’d meet a beautiful Italian woman tonight, and enjoy drinks with her now?”
He ran his thumb along the edge of the crystal.
“I don’t believe in luck,” said Nikki, meeting his gaze.
“Neither do I.”
They drank, and Nikki tasted the smoke and peat, the burn of the whisky. It seemed to amplify her fatigue. It was 22:03 and she’d spent a restless night in a hospital room. She needed sleep, but instead was enjoying the unfamiliar touch of Teddy’s hand on her skin, his attention and interest. She swirled the tumbler, watching the golden liquid catch the light.
“What did it take to build Innovare MindCapsule?” she asked.
“A lot of hard work. It was my idea, of course. And I needed to scout for the right partners…the right talent.”
“Did you find them?”
He smiled. “Well, if you want tobethe next Zuckerberg and not fucked by the next Zuckerberg, you need to pick your bedfellows wisely.”
“Tell me about your partners,” Nikki encouraged.
He frowned and shrugged, then ran his fingertips along her arm. “I’d rather talk about you.”
