The Hillwood Tech Center's presentation room felt too warm despite the autumn chill outside. Arnold adjusted his tie—the blue one because apparently they had a theme going now—and watched Helga arrange their materials with surgical precision. She'd been unusually quiet during their walk over, her doctor's coat replaced by a tailored blazer that made her look like she belonged in this world of venture capital and funding rounds.
"Timer check?" she asked, not looking up from her organization of their handouts.
"Seven minutes until they arrive." He pulled up their presentation deck. "Want to run through the transition points again?"
"Football H—" She caught herself, fingers stilling on the papers. "We've practiced this a dozen times."
"And you've almost made it through without using my childhood nickname," he said lightly, trying to ease the tension he could see building in her shoulders. "Though I notice you save it for when you're nervous."
She shot him a look that was pure grade school, Helga. "I'm not nervous. I'm..."
"Maintaining a suitable demeanor for the investors?"
"Exactly." But her hands betrayed her, adjusting and readjusting the already perfect stack of materials.
A knock at the door made them both jump. Phoebe poked her head in, tablet at the ready. "They're early. The whole investment team is here."
Arnold saw Helga's spine stiffen. He moved closer without thinking, close enough to breathe in that subtle scent that had been scrambling his thoughts for weeks. "Hey," he said softly. "We've got this. No one knows this project better than we do."
She turned to face him, and for a moment, he saw past Dr. Pataki to the sentimental woman she'd tried to hide for years. "Arnold, if this doesn't work—"
The door opened.
"Dr. Pataki? Mr. Shortman?" A woman in a crisp suit extended her hand. "Alexandra Chen, Lead Investment Partner. My team has been quite interested in your application's initial metrics."
Helga shifted seamlessly into her professional stance, though Arnold noticed she'd taken half a step closer to him.
"We're excited to show you how the platform has evolved." Her voice carried that particular tone he'd come to recognize—controlled confidence masking underlying intensity.
As the investment team filed in—five of them, all armed with tablets and analyzing expressions—Arnold pulled up their opening slide. Their names glowed side by side on the screen: Dr. Helga Pataki, Child Psychology Lead. Arnold Shortman, Technical Development.
"So," Alexandra settled into her chair, "tell us how this partnership came about." Arnold felt rather than saw Helga's slight tension. They'd practiced this part extensively, but somehow, the rehearsed version felt inadequate under Alexandra's shrewd gaze.
"Dr. Pataki's research on creative expression in child psychology formed the theoretical foundation for the app's development," Arnold began, clicking to their first visualization. "Her work on how children process complex emotions through artistic outlets—
" "Actually," Helga cut in, and Arnold heard that familiar note in her voice that meant she was about to go off-script, "Arnold's the one who saw the potential first. He took academic theory and envisioned something practical, something that could reach more kids than traditional therapy ever could."
Arnold turned to her, surprised. They hadn't planned this part. "Interesting," Alexandra leaned forward. "And you two hadn't collaborated before this project?"
"We..." Arnold started.
"Had crossed paths," Helga finished smoothly. "We actually attended the same elementary school."
A younger investor perked up. "Oh? So you knew each other as kids?" Arnold watched Helga's fingers tighten almost imperceptibly on her presentation remote. "You could say that." Her voice carried a hint of amusement that probably only he caught.
"I wasn't exactly the easiest child to understand. But Arnold..." She paused, and he felt the weight of memory in that pause. "He had a way of seeing past people's defenses. It's probably why the app works so well—he's always understood how to help kids feel safe expressing themselves."
Due to her words, the warmth that spread through Arnold's chest had nothing to do with the room's temperature.
"Dr. Pataki's being modest," he heard himself say. "Her insight into how children protect themselves, how they suppress their vulnerabilities... it comes from a deep personal understanding. She's turned her own experiences into a force for helping others."
Their eyes met briefly, years of shared history passing between them. Arnold saw the moment Helga registered what he'd said, what he'd really meant. Color touched her cheeks.
Alexandra observed them with growing interest. "So this collaboration is built on a foundation of existing understanding?"
"You could say our different perspectives complement each other," Helga managed, turning back to the presentation.
"For example, in the emotional landscape interface—" She clicked to the next slide, but Arnold noticed her hand wasn't quite steady. The volcano visualization filled the screen—their first real breakthrough together, where personal history and professional expertise had merged into something neither could have created alone.
"The anger management features are particularly innovative," one of the other investors noted.
"How did you develop the metaphor?" Arnold felt Helga's slight shift beside him and knew she was thinking of pink books and hidden poetry. "Sometimes," he said cautiously, "the best solutions come from understanding how children naturally express themselves. Dr. Pataki has extensive experience with..."
"Creative outlets," Helga finished, and he heard the ghost of a smile in her voice. "Though Arnold's the one who knew how to translate that into digital spaces where kids feel secure being vulnerable."
"And this synergy," Alexandra was making notes on her tablet, "it extends to your development process?"
The group chat message from Phoebe flashed in Arnold's mind: *92% increase in productivity when working together.*
"We find that our shared background enhances our ability to..." Arnold searched for appropriately professional phrasing.
"Anticipate each other's thinking," Helga supplied, then added quickly, "From a therapeutic development standpoint."
"Of course," Alexandra's smile suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by their careful qualifications. "Please continue with the technical implementation." As Helga launched into their user engagement metrics, Arnold became acutely aware of how their shoulders almost grazed when they both gestured at the same data point, how easily they fell into finishing each other's explanations, how their carefully maintained professional distance seemed to shrink with every slide.
They were either nailing this display or completely revealing themselves. Possibly both. Arnold's phone hummed silently in his pocket—probably the group chat with running commentary. But right now, all he could focus on was how Helga's voice took on that particular passionate tone when she discussed their success with troubled kids and how some things about her hadn't changed at all. They were definitely in trouble.
"Your privacy features are particularly robust," one of the younger investors noted, scrolling through his tablet. "Almost like you anticipated every way a kid might try to conceal their true feelings."
Arnold felt Helga's slight tension beside him. "We've found that children are more likely to express themselves honestly when they feel completely protected," she said, her neutral tone wavering just slightly on 'honestly.'
"And how did you identify these specific security needs?" Alexandra asked, her sharp eyes moving between them.
Helga's fingers brushed Arnold's arm as they both reached to advance the slide. She pulled back quickly, but not before Arnold glimpsed that recognizable glint of panic in her eyes—the same look she'd had whenever someone got too close to discovering her secrets in grade school.
"Personal experience," Arnold found himself saying, drawing the investors' attention to him. "Dr. Pataki's clinical work has given her unique insight into how children protect their vulnerable emotions."
Helga shot him a grateful look that made something swell in his chest. "And Mr. Shortman's background in youth counseling helped shape the supportive aspects of the interface," she added, her voice steadier now. "The app creates safe spaces where kids can be themselves without fear of judgment."
"Like your poetry caves?" The words slipped out before Arnold could stop them.
Helga's breath caught. The investors looked curious.
"The... designated writing spaces in the anger landscape," she recovered smoothly, though Arnold saw the color in her cheeks. "They provide contained areas for emotional expression."
"Fascinating dynamic you two have," Alexandra commented, making another note on her tablet. "The way you build on each other's ideas... it's almost like you can read each other's minds."
Arnold felt heat creep up his neck. "Years of... collaborative experience."
"Very collaborative," muttered one of the younger investors, earning a sharp look from Alexandra.
"The user testing data," Helga said quickly, advancing to the next slide. But her hand shook slightly, causing her to click twice. Instead of their metrics, the screen filled with their early development notes—including Arnold's original function names that he'd meant to change.
processUnspokenFeelings() glowed accusingly on the screen.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Arnold heard Helga's sharp intake of breath.
"That's, uh, placeholder code," he managed, reaching for the laptop. His hand collided with Helga's as she moved to do the same thing.
"Technical nomenclature," she said quickly, finally managing to advance the slide. "Early development shorthand."
"Quite expressive shorthand," Alexandra observed, her smile knowing. "Your development process seems... emotionally informed."
"We believe in bringing our full experience to the project," Arnold said carefully.
"Clearly." Alexandra sat back, watching them with growing amusement. "Please, continue. I'm particularly interested in how you two collaborate on the therapeutic elements."
Helga straightened, shield firmly back in place, though Arnold noticed she'd taken a small step away from him. "The integration of clinical psychology with technological accessibility required extensive personal..." She paused. "Professional interaction."
"Very extensive," Arnold heard himself add, earning another sharp look from Helga.
His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, unable to keep his attention off of how Helga was transforming before his very eyes into the vibrant and caring woman he always knew was there.
"Perhaps we should move on to the market analysis," Helga suggested, her voice tight with forced composure.
"Of course," Alexandra smiled. "Though I must say, your dynamic alone is quite convincing. It's rare to see partners so... in sync."
Arnold caught Helga's slight flinch at the word 'partners.' He wondered if the investors could see how desperately they were both trying to maintain their skilled façade, even as years of history and unspoken feelings kept bleeding through.
His hand brushed Helga's again as they both reached for their water bottles. This time, neither pulled away quite as quickly.
They were definitely not maintaining appropriate investor meeting boundaries.