“And the next present is from Luke, my best friend!” He grabs the package and hands it to his fiancée for unwrapping. Leslie tears the paper and squeals in delight.
“A custom doormat!” She shows her guests the coir doormat personalized with the plural form of Garrett’s surname: The Greens.
“Taking for granted Leslie will take his name?” Medusa comments beside me. “Patriarchal much?”
Again, I’m saved the need to respond by Leslie shouting, “And now a gift from my dear friend Vivi! And not just one, but two presents.”
“Overachiever much?” I whisper.
Medusa ignores my jab as our hosts unwrap her gifts. The first is a Polaroid camera identical to the one her daughter has, but in light blue instead of pink.
“This is amazing!” Leslie shrieks in delight. “I want to take pictures of everyone tonight—thanks, Vivi.” The bride-to-be pulls out a few more items from the first box: a carrying case, an album, and two packs of film.
In the meantime, Garrett raises his half of the gift for the crowd to see, revealing a personalized hearts Connect Four game engraved with Garrett and Leslie’s first names in the middle.
The gifts are cute. Not that I’d ever tell Medusa that.
“Well,” Medusa says. “As fun as it’s been to get to know you better, I think I’ll go.”
“Please don’t let me deter you.”
She grimaces. “See you at the office.” Then she pauses and, with an evil little smirk, adds, “Or at the dating agency, assuming you’re not too afraid of rejection.”
“Oh, please, if I signed up I’d be matched up in no time, and definitely before you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mr. Soppy. I could wager to the contrary.”
“You want to make the bet real?”
“What do you mean?”
“We both sign up to the agency, and if I find my match first, you give me the corner office.” The offer tumbles out of my mouth before I’ve had the time to consider its soundness.
She studies me intently for a few seconds. “And if I win?”
I shrug. “What do you want?”
Medusa narrows her eyes at me. “You move out of the building and I never see you again.”
It’d be foolish of me to accept. It took me forever to find this office and I should remind myself how desperate I was by the end… But the smug way this woman is looking at me is just too much for me to handle. My common sense goes out the window, and suddenly all I want to do is beat her.
“Deal,” I say. “Winner takes it all.”
Medusa smiles sweetly. “I’d start packing up boxes if I were you.” She raises her flute at me in a mock cheers motion. After taking a sip of bubbly, she adds, “It’s a bet.”
Six
Lucas
“Welcome to Listen to Your Heart, Mr. Keller,” the receptionist at the dating agency—a nice brunette in her late twenties—greets me after I give her my name. “We spoke over the phone earlier, right?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. The first thing I did this morning when I arrived at the office was to call the agency and set up an appointment, before I could change my mind.
“I’m glad we could fit you in for a last-minute appointment. Mondays are always busy days,” the woman—Teresa, her name tag states—says. “People go out on the weekend, can’t find anyone decent to date, and finally take the plunge and sign up with us in the new week.”
Or, in my case, they’re invited to a friend’s engagement party, drink too much champagne, and get riled into potentially gambling away a perfectly suitable workspace by the Wicked Witch of the West Office.
“You’ll be meeting with one of our Professional Matchmakers,” she says. “We always advise you be open and honest with them—both about yourself, and what you’re looking for. Remember: we’re here to help you.”
Professional Matchmaker, the qualification alone makes me cringe with skepticism. What on Earth made me sign up for a dating agency?
Oh, right. The bet.
Stay focused. You want that corner office. And also to find your soulmate. Right. The office is secondary, but it’d be a nice added bonus.
Teresa taps at her keyboard with lacquered nails for a few seconds, then looks up at me with another big smile. “Your appointment is at one, which is perfect, as you’ll need about twenty minutes to fill out this short questionnaire.”
Teresa hands me a rigid folder with a bundle of papers clipped on top. Short, my ass. The sucker must be at least thirty pages. Teresa gestures at the steel-blue leather chairs lining the lobby. “Please, take a seat wherever you like.”
I grab a pen and settle in a chair away from the door and the front desk. No one else is waiting, so I have my pick of spots.
With a sigh, I turn the first page of the questionnaire and set to work. I quickly fill in the general information section—Name, Date of Birth, etc.—and move on.
5. What is your current relationship status?
♡ Never married
♡ Divorced
♡ Separated
♡ Widowed
I stare at the question. Already the fact that the agency picked heart outlines in place of regular square checkboxes makes me regret signing up for this circus. I’m half-tempted to get up and leave… but then I’d have to pack up my beautiful new office. I’m a man of my word; I’ll honor our deal. So, I stay.
As I tick the “never married” box, I wonder what Medusa will check. Is she a divorcee? How does Tegan’s absentee father play into their little family drama?
6. Do you have children?
No
Miss Attorney is going to reply “Yes” to this one. And why do I have to think about her with every single answer I give?
Because she’s the competition.
Right, that’s the only reason.
7. Aside from any children you or your new partner may already have, would you like to start a new family?
Yes
8. Are you open to dating someone who already has children?
Am I?
Kids complicate relationships, especially if they are somebody else’s. Years of couples’ counseling have taught me that
