Statistics.

Right.

Shoving Laurent from my head, I have to admit to myself that these numbers look pretty darn good. I’ve got half a mind to call up the lead investor and tell him to go eat shit. Like, politely.

My hand hovers over my phone where it rests on my desk, fingers itching to bring up the investor’s number and dial.

But then I realize that if I cancel the meeting with the investors, I won’t get to see Laurent again. Or go on our bonus date.

And while I know there’s no chance in hell that he and I can ever end up together, I find myself loathe to pass up on the opportunities to share oxygen with him two more times.

Okay, maybe I am a little desperate. Or infatuated.

But then I’m the designer of one of the world’s top dating and relationship apps. Maybe I can chalk this up to professional research.

My phone jumps to life, buzzing against the desk, screen glowing as a call comes in. For one wild moment I think it’s Laurent, summoned by my thoughts of him.

But no, it’s not him. Of course it’s not him. It’s my accountant. I need to freaking read the caller ID before jumping to these ridiculous conclusions.

Fumbling with the phone, I answer the call. “Hello?” My voice sounds heavy with disappointment even to my own ears.Ridiculous.

“Hey there, Shira,” my accountant, Margie, pipes cheerfully. “I wanted to touch base with you about some new costs that you can expect this coming year, so you won’t be surprised.”

I wince at the wordsnew costs. I know Margie means well, but this call is almost as surprising as an unexpected bill. “Um, okay,” I stammer. “What’s up?”

“Well, there have been some changes to the company’s health insurance,” she replies. I hear her shuffling through paperwork. “Employee premiums are going up on some plans, and employer fees are going up on all of them.”

I swallow hard. “By how much?”

She hesitates.Uh oh. Margie is never anything but cheerful and almost overly forthright unless she’s worried about something. “The basic plan only has a one percent increase on employer contribution.”

The basic plan. Basically useless is what that should stand for.

Margie and I searched far and wide for excellent employee health coverage, and even with the very best option we could find, there was still an entry-level plan that is useless for anything outside of an emergency.

Unsurprisingly, most of my handful of employees opt for higher tier plans with more comprehensive coverage, and more cost to me.

Not that I mind. I’m proud to offer my employees good health coverage — like, outside that basic plan malarkey. This is part of the reason I chose to hire employees instead of contracting out the work I needed done, because I wanted to make the tech world a better place by being an outstanding employer.

It’s an unfortunately rare thing in tech to find a company that doesn’t chew up and spit out its people as fast as it possibly can. I’ve seen it happen again and again.

Hell, I experienced personally when I first started out. That’s why I left to start Blush. I had to try something new or burn out.

I don’t want my people to burn out.

But that comes with costs.

Big ones.

I’ve already cut other costs as much as possible. Instead of having to cough up cash for an office building, for example, my employees work from home or a local co-working space of their choosing. That has increased employee satisfaction and allowed me to employ some of the best folks in tech, no matter their location.

Health insurance, though, is one corner I can’t, and won’t, cut. Not even a little.

“How about the other plans, Margie?” I ask. “What’s the percentage increase on those?”

She sighs. My heart sinks. “It’s a lot, Shira,” Margie says, voice full of regret. “And I’ve spent the last few days trying to find a better alternative. But there aren’t a whole lot of options unfortunately and—“

“It’s okay, Margie,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “I trust you. Let’s stay with our current plan. We’ll make it work. Just email me the figures when you get a chance, so I know exactly how much of an increase we’re talking.”