Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Acknowledgments

Readers Guide

Discussion Questions

About the Author

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To all you lovestruck romantics. Take your shot.

One Bhanu

I worked in UX. UX had always been, and still was, my techy passion. Most people had no idea what in the world UX stood for, much less what it was (user experience, BTW). It was simple, really. To put it humbly, I was the all-powerful bridge connecting creativity to technology, functionality to experience. Ever used an app or website and didn’t find yourself frustrated with navigation or have any negative experience, then you, my friend, experienced good UX design and had an entire dauntless team to thank for the smallest clicks and details that made your browsing exploits so flawless that you didn’t even realize you were having them.

That, of course, was oversimplifying. A great deal went into the tiniest things down to color specs. Tons of meetings and research and late nights went into every thought. Today was no different.

It was six in the morning, and even the sun hadn’t peeked through the rain clouds on this Pacific Northwestern day. I’d buzzed around getting coffee and waffles in my elegant, flowing cardigan, feeling very much like a princess. Granted, one who was isolated in a tower but not-so-secretly enjoyed it. I spoke of…remote work. When else could a girl feel like a princess in baggy pajamas and no bra?

Fret not, I had donned a bra and shimmied into a meeting blouse to look the part, brushing my hair into a low ponytail as coffee cooled, and patted on light makeup while munching on waffles. I wasn’t typically a breakfast person, but there was something about waffles that I couldn’t shake off. So bad was my waffle addiction that I’d splurged on one of those heavy-duty waffle makers that made four perfect squares at a time. And yes, I was eating all four this morning. A few blueberries in the mix, smothered in butter, a dollop of whipped cream, and I was the happiest person in the world.

Odd-hour meetings were part of UX. Although my company was based in Seattle, we worked with clients from around the globe. Thus why hybrid work worked so well. No one was going to make me fight Seattle traffic and battle to the death for parking spots for this meeting.