a school. “I didn’t graduate, though. I dropped out and moved to California.” For a while, she’d thought she’d found a home, with Swype and with Peter. With a man whose intellect seemed to match hers, who seemed so dedicated and consumed with her.
But that had turned dark so quickly and quietly, she hadn’t even realized she was lost again until she was.
“I never graduated from college either,” Annabelle confessed. “There was no matchmaker major, and I knew what I was destined for.”
Rhiannon jumped on that. “We have a lot in common, the two of us. I wish I had known you when I was starting out. I could have used your mentorship.”
Annabelle’s face softened. “I don’t know how much help I would have been. Matchmaker was created almost by accident, and it wouldn’t be what it is today without Jennifer. And the executives she hired.” She tipped her head at William, who looked smug and mollified at being credited with the growth of the company. “As far as I can tell, you did everything on your own.”
“I did. Though the seed money for Crush came from a friend. Now my silent partner.” Annabelle and Katrina could meet if the deal progressed further.
Samson and Katrina should meet too.
She mentally shook herself to get rid of that far too enticing idea. As it was, it had taken all her concentration not to think about Samson since he’d snuck her back into Annabelle’s home this morning after a blissfully deep night of sleep.
Rhiannon crossed her legs. She’d dressed in her usual casual wear today, unable to stand the thought of not being comfortable. William had definitely given a judgy sniff at her choice of jeans and T-shirt, but he wasn’t the first man to sneer at her.
“Why did you start your company, Rhiannon?”
There were easy, pat responses she could offer. Annabelle, with her unexpectedly perceptive gaze, might see through those. “I grew up in a town where everyone knew your business, or if they didn’t, they made it up. Everyone’s life was set on a certain path. People were shocked when I got into every college I applied to. They were more shocked when I made my first million.”
Annabelle rested her chin in her hands. Today she wore a loose canary yellow top and jeans, her feet clad in UGGs, and she looked more like a college student than a veteran of the industry. “You wouldn’t be the first person in the dot-com—I’m sorry, app—industry to start your own company to prove people wrong.”
“No, I started it to prove myself right,” Rhi corrected. “To prove what I already knew—that I’m right to be proud of my brain and confidence.”
Annabelle’s smile was approving. “Do you feel like you’ve proven yourself right yet?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know.” She’d set so many goalposts in her head. If she could make a million, if she could make a billion, if she could beat Peter . . . had she proven herself yet? If not now, then when?
William shifted. “This is all fascinating, but I think you skipped something in your oral résumé. You worked for Swype, yes?”
She braced herself, made sure her face was wiped clean of expression. “I did. Yes.”
“In what capacity?”
He already knew this, but she indulged him. “I was VP of marketing.” She’d had her hand in every aspect of that company, but she wasn’t allowed to say that or anything else which would imply she’d had a primary role in creating the app, according to the terms of her exit settlement.
“And you had a relationship with your employer?”
Well. This was brazen, but she’d roll with it.
Annabelle shifted, her frown disapproving. “William, how is this relevant?”
“I’m fine answering.” She wasn’t, but it would appear shadier if she didn’t answer. “Peter and I dated for about a year. It was well known throughout the company. We broke up. I left Swype and started Crush. These things happen.” She almost choked on that last meaningless nothing sentence, but managed to get it out.
These sorts of things were bound to happen. Bound to be forced to make nice with a man who had tormented her and almost run her out of her own industry and faced no repercussions for it.
That was life.
Annabelle smiled with approval. “I like your calm attitude. Be like the Europeans about past lovers, that’s what I always say.”
Did Europeans often want to murder their exes? If so, then Rhiannon was very European. “Sure.”
“It’s interesting you built an app so similar to Swype’s.”