The weather is chilly, and for the first time in forever I didn't seem to care about the music blaring softly from the speakers outside. A song from my favorite Billie Eilish, tempting, my subconscious confessed. Still, I wasn't stirred. Infact, I wanted abrupt silence.

Nothing about my life felt lyrical right now. Don't get me wrong. Nobody died. Okay. Not recently though. My father did, but that was years ago, and that still remains the one story I am never excited to talk about.

The crispy rustling of papers interrupted my train of thought. I directed my gaze to the Hiring Manager of Redwood Advertising, and immediately, I regretted making that move. She’d been staring at my CV for far too long, so long that I began to wonder if the printer had mysteriously translated my documents into Arabic.

“Nice profile here, but…" she uttered, signalling I should hold on, as she went ahead to take a call.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. ‘Dear Lord, not again. Not another rejection.'

I’ve been flagged down by six companies in just eighteen days, and if this woman was about to tell another pathetic story of ‘we can’t hire, but we’d reach back to you', they might as well be prepared to call a 911.

“Apologies for the interruption, my dear,” she quipped sharply. “It’s too sad to share, but we have someone already recommended for your role, and we have to—"

The remnants of her words drifted into thin air as I struggled to mask the deep disappointment tightening in my chest. My instincts had whispered all along that my chances of getting hired were slim, but somehow hope refused to leave, nudging me to believe it just might work out.

My rent was only six weeks away from being overdue. I needed to settle my yoga subscription before the quarterly payment deadline, as well as replace a few household essentials. I wouldn't sort all of these if I had no funds, and I didn't want to bother anyone. Not my family, not Tahlia.

In a jiffy, I was on my feet, faking a smile I hope could prove that I understood all the Hiring Manager had said as I walked towards her to retrieve my CV.

Wiping the invisible sweat from behind my pants, I headed over to the exit, a deep sigh escaping my lips as I took a quick stare at my wristwatch.

“3:19p.m. Another failed attempt at getting a job."

‘Should I keep going, or was it time to rethink my plan?'

I silently hoped Tahlia was still at the restaurant close by, waiting for me as we agreed. The agency shared a building with The Minimalist Plate downstairs, an eatery that smelled expensive and made you question your life choices. My pity to anyone who fell for the name.

“Oops!” a male voice exclaimed as we both collided outside the elevator.

He was quick to pick up my folder, adjusting his glasses nervously as he extended his hand. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. Andrea, right? Really nice to meet you.”

I blinked twice in surprise, wondering how he knew my name. It hit me the moment I noticed his eyes resting on my shirt.

“Oh… it’s fine. Pleasure meeting you,” I replied, clearing my throat lightly.

I had earlier thrown on a grey polo out of pure rush. It had an embroidered company logo, with my name neatly stitched in clean block letters. Unlike the other messy and unstable jobs I had managed, this consulting firm was my little island of sanity for months. It helped me quickly forget the one time I had trusted love and lost spectacularly. I began to enjoy sitting in meetings, learning how businesses operate, and interacting with confident professionals, not to mention the paid holidays. If only Mr. Darcy hadn’t sold off this life-saver!

Now I’m stuck insisting on a proper 9-to-5, because apparently life doesn’t pay the bills.

"Here’s the thing," he said, a playful twinkle in his eye. "We launched our app a few months back, but it really belongs in the hands of people like you; young, fun, and perfect for what we are doing."

"Don’t get me wrong...There’s still plenty of love to go around for the oldies too." he added, flashing a flyer from the many he held.

Before I could even think twice, it was placed in my hands, and the second I read the tagline, I wasn't intrigued anymore.

“Love Incorporated™️ — Where Intentions Become Connections!”

“What the heck! Love? Who cares? I just needed a damn job!”

I fought so hard not to scream in utter disbelief, wondering how this had anything to do with me.

He joined his hands behind him, looking like he was about to give a full presentation.

Not this time.

“Just scan the QR code and it will take you straight to the app store. We even made sure our social handles are right below, bold and impossible to miss." He said ecstatically.

“Wow… really exciting stuff!" I lied, nodding and pursing my lips. “I’ll definitely check this out"

I walked away, moving fast enough to dodge any more marketing pitches. A quick glance around was all it took to spot Tahlia. From the frosted glass door, she seemed completely wrapped up in a conversation with a man whose face I didn't get to grasp.

The man was already leaving by the time I reached her. His eyes slow to let her go. They lingered on her, hungry and reluctant. And she responded by biting her lower lip, a regular gesture that said more than words ever could.

This best friend of mine, who claimed she was a hopeless romantic was fast becoming a public hazard. Tahlia had a talent for being irritating without even trying, but beneath all that charm was a genuinely good heart. The one person I could always count on.

Our eyes met, and she broke into a cute smile, her eyes crinkling as her dimples appeared.

“Who’s he?”

“How did it go?”

We asked at the same time, but Tahlia snapped her fingers. “Uh-uh. Interview. Now."

“Tahlia, don’t tell me he’s joined your growing list of guys?” I maintained, my eyes wild in suspicion, hoping desperately that he wasn’t another name she would casually forget by tomorrow.

She swept her burgundy hair over her shoulder, her eyes betraying her even in silence. Before I could push, the rain started to drizzle tapping against the roof. Its sound blending with the sudden rise of music inside the restaurant.

That was loud enough to bury my question.

Tahlia’s smile spread, her eyes narrowing with anticipation as she placed her palms flat on the table, leaning forward. "You got the job?!"

“Ugh… I didn’t.”

Her expression changed from excitement to concern. "Not again. I really thought this time would be different. What’s happening, Drea?"

"I have no idea." I shrugged sadly, turning toward the loud notification chime that had just sounded on my phone..

A gasp slipped from my lips. I stared at the screen, stunned.

Was this a miracle? God!.

"Wait… No! How?" I uttered in utter disbelief, deeply flustered from the title of the email written boldly on my screen.

"Jeez… You’re killing me with suspense, Drea. Out with it!" Tahlia bounced in her seat, clearly dying for the news.

I swallowed, biting my lip nervously at her, "I just got a job… though I still have to go in for a personality test in person. Apparently, they handpicked me because of my background in events and client relations."

"But I’m confused. I’m still figuring out how this was possible. I literally just met a guy advertising this company. I mean, I didn’t even apply!" I added, disrupting Tahlia’s little dance of excitement.

What I didn’t expect was Tahlia’s eyes widening in realization. "Hold on. You mean Love Incorporated?"

I looked at her in wonder, amazed at the coincidence and her quick deduction.

"Yes!" she shrieked.

"Tahlia.. What's going on?"

"Don’t you think this is the part you say thank you?" she asked smugly, folding her arms.

I scoffed. "Thank you for what? Look, I’m not joining a company that monetizes heartbreak."

Her smile faded.

"So I wasted my time staying up half the night, helping you with the online screening test in June?"

"I never asked you to."

"No," she said flatly. "But I still did it."

I rubbed my forehead lightly as I exhaled.

"Tahlia is not like that. I had no idea you did all that two months ago. And a matchmaking company? Of all places? I really appreciate the effort, but..."

"Drea," she cut in gently, "you already do this. You listen. You remember details. I've watched you talk people through things when they are overwhelmed."

She smiled. "You remember when you didn’t let me ghost Jack?. You stayed on the phone with me for two hours after that awful date. This is literally YOU. I just found a place that pays you for it. The app was way too polished when I checked it out. You should have seen the branding and the interface alone. I couldn’t even afford the basic membership fee. Think of how serious the salary might be."

"Ok... Fine," I gave in, throwing up my hands. "Can we leave now?"

She shook her head. "Alone? Yes. I’m still hurt by how ungrateful you sounded."

I sighed, fully aware of how badly I had handled everything. "Alright, I’m sorry. I promise to make you a nice meal this weekend as an apology."

Tahlia arched a brow. "Not that. I'd prefer a girls’ day out when you get your first paycheck."

I looked at her, surprised. "You’re really that sure about me?" And we both burst out laughing.

* * * *

Days later, my Toyota Corolla was a mess. It always picked the worst possible day to develop a fault. Unfortunately, it chose this day, the day of my interview at Love Incorporated.

Tahlia and I sighed, our eyes meeting. Usually, we would giggle at timings like this, but this wasn't the moment for such jokes. It was only twenty minutes to the time scheduled, and Tahlia needed to make it to her shift. Earlier, the plan had been simple - drop Tahlia off before heading to Love Incorporated, relying on Google Maps to get me to it's destination.

"Ok... I know what you have in mind, but let's be optimistic. Today is declared the last for your job hunting shenanigans!" Tahlia broke the silence.

I ran my hand through my hair, completely ruining the effort I had spent trying to make it look presentable. "I don’t even know how we fix this. You should be heading to your shift, and we can’t just abandon the car here. It’s barely parked."

"Breathe, Drea. This isn’t the end of the world." Tahlia said calmly.

She reached over, smoothing the loose strands of my hair like she always do whenever I'm overwhelmed. "We’ll book a ride, and you’ll hop out here, and go ace that interview!. Don’t stress about anything else. I've got you..."

Our exchange was cut short by an impatient honk. A young man sat behind the wheel, his eyes fixed at us, his face looked annoyingly familiar.

"You know you’re blocking half the lane, right?" he said, amused. "Might want to fix that before someone tows you."

The Ads guy? He appeared almost unrecognizable with his cashmere sweater layered over a shirt.

He squinted at me like I was a puzzle piece, exclaiming upon realization "Hold on... Andrea?"

In a flash, he moved his car forward, parking in front and before he starts to head towards us, I quickly whispered to Tahlia.

"That’s him. The ad guy I mentioned. The one who told me about the app, right before the surprise email"

Tahlia’s brows shot up, but she didn’t get the chance to say anything. He was already peering through the window, close enough that I caught the scent of cedar.

"I’m technically late," he admitted, checking the time, "but if this is a quick fix, I can help. Five minutes. Give or take."

Tahlia and I shook our heads in unison. This wasn’t something five minutes would fix. My car visited mechanics more often than I visited my family house.

"Her interview," Tahlia cut in sharply. "You would end up being her colleague, you know?. I’d really appreciate it if you could give her a lift."

I didn't expect that bluff from Tahlia. I shot her a look, heat creeping up my neck as he gasped in surprise.

"You're one of the candidates Mr. Bradley shortlisted?”

“Come on, we have to go now." He maintained, pulling the car door open.

"He’s strict about punctuality and trust me, you don’t want to start off on the wrong foot." He added.

I hesitated for a second before coming down.

"Text me how it goes," I said to Tahlia, a little embarrassed.

“Just go," she urged.

I walked briskly behind him till we got to where he parked, and then he held the door open with a grin.

"Kylian, but everyone calls me K," he said. "Good to see you again."

~ ~ ~

Minutes later, we were literally jogging down the marble hallway from the parking lot. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping. Love Incorporated was far bigger and fancier than I had imagined.

The building shined under the morning sun, all glass and sharp steel edges, with a sleek façade bearing Love Incorporated™️ boldly inscribed in red.

The door automatically opens, and Kylian slowed to a brisk walk as we got to the wide reception area. From the passage, my eyes skimmed the gold accents and velvet chairs. The decor was simple. Still, it felt like walking through a luxury hotel.

“Go ahead, take a seat. Interviews will start shortly,” he said, already walking away.

I obeyed, immediately noticing the other candidates. Two young men sat at my left, both dressed like they had rehearsed their confidence in the mirror. One kept adjusting his tie like it was trying to strangle him, and the other continuously tapped his foot. The female among them stared straight ahead, her makeup perfectly sculpted.

I fixed myself on an empty seat close by, watching Kylian speak to the receptionist. Her gaze slid past him to me, widened, then snapped back to her screen as if it had personally betrayed her.

I swallowed, darting my eyes to the right hand side of the room. There, three employees sat at their neatly spaced individual workstations. Their whispers not so low that I couldn't hear.

"Who is she?"

"She came in with Kylian."

"No way."

I shut my eyes briefly, entirely unbothered by their words. ‘Lord please. This should be the last'

The sound of footsteps made me flip my eyes open and a man appeared in front of us. He was averagely built, sharp eyed and if I should guess in his thirties.

"Welcome everyone. I am Mr. Bradley and the interview will be conducted by a VIP client. Please be prepared. First impressions matter."

A VIP what? Strange... Who was this person? And why did it feel like the room had just grown ten times bigger, and I was suddenly smaller?

"Come with me," he added quickly.

One of the young men moved ahead too quickly, nearly brushing past me like he couldn’t wait to be seen first. I and the others followed with Mr. Bradley leading.

We walked towards a quieter corridor, away from the bustle of the main floor, before getting to a monochrome art display, and then a softly lit waiting nook.

A row of closed offices with matte glass doors stood just before we approached a private executive lounge. This room was more beautiful than what I had seen at the main floor - warm lighting, leather chairs, a long polished table that looked too expensive for casual opinions.

Mr Bradley stopped by the door, exchanging a brief nod with the client, before urging us in. What follows next was the door closing softly behind us.

And then I saw him.

A tall man indeed. Tall enough that the room seemed to adjust around him. His gaze moved over us, deliberate and assessing, as if already deciding who was worth his time.

Slowly but graciously, he sat, adjusting his light gray suit that probably cost more than my rent for a year. He checked his watch, silver and sharp against his cuff, raising his chin after, and that moment I notice just how striking his face was.

Our eyes almost meet, but her open admiration interrupted the moment. The female candidate didn't hide it. She inhaled deeply, her lips parting as if he'd walked out of a fantasy.

When he finally looked at us, boredom was clearly written in his eyes.

"I’m Everett Langston," he said flatly. “If you’re easily intimidated, you can leave now."

***

*Andrea*

***

“If you’re easily intimidated, you can leave now."

For some seconds, there was heavy silence. Yet, no one moved.

Everett Langston leaned back on his chair still scanning the four of us like a man weighing apples for freshness. With one ankle rested casually on his knee, his fingers drummed once against the armrest before he looked away.

How arrogant!

"Good... That saves me time. You could have your seats" he ordered.

He reached for the four cream envelopes sitting in a neat row on the polished table and slid them toward us. "One of you doesn’t belong here. Decide."

What? My brows knitted.

"Decide? Based on what?" The other male candidate whispered nervously to his neighbor.

The eyes of the lady who had been staring a little too openly at Everett sparkled with excitement as she shifted in her seat. It was as if the challenge only heightened her interest in him.

I ignored her. I wasn’t here to gawk.

"Everything is part of the interview,” Everett replied calmly. “Five minutes."

The man at my right cleared his throat. “Based on what criteria?”

He shrugged. “Any you like.”

He goes on to rotate his chair slowly, folding his arms as his eyes tracked every reaction.

"This is ridiculous," the third candidate muttered. "We don’t even know each other."

“Exactly,” Everett replied. “That’s what makes it interesting.”

They turned on each other faster than I expected.

The same man spoke first, “She came in late,” he pointed at me, nodding. “That alone should count against her."

All eyes swung to me.

I blinked, trying to keep the irritation out of my face. I wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t cared earlier when he pushed past me just to get to the front.

“Excuse me?” I shot back. “Traffic happens, and I never arranged for my car to quit on me.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you were late,” the woman said lightly, flipping her hair. “Excuses or not, I was here an hour early.”

“And I don’t see how a few minutes defines whether someone can handle clients professionally,” I countered, hoping logic still counted for something.

Everett's eyes lingered on me just long enough to make me uneasy, before returning to the others. "Confidence doesn’t mean competence. We'll see how you hold up under real pressure."

He removed one from the envelopes, tossing the others aside like they had already served their purpose.

I clenched my fists under the table, her giggle audible enough to be heard.

Lucky her! I was so happy to know she had been waiting for this moment. Hilarious.

“Next."

“Let’s make this interesting." He continues, clasping his hands together. “I want to see who can handle responsibility. Someone who can execute a task flawlessly, anticipate problems, and act without supervision. You’ll pitch me a plan to manage a high-stakes client scenario. Convince me you can handle it. Begin."

All of us exchanged awkward glances. I almost wish for a fire alarm or a sudden earthquake to save me.

Just immediately, the first male candidate launched into a rehearsed speech about questionnaires and client profiles, stumbling slightly over jargon he clearly didn’t understand. The lady babbled a little, trying to charm her way through instead of focusing on a plan.

I stayed back, observing and waiting for my turn.

Then my phone chimed.

My stomach did a flip, and the tick of the clock suddenly amplified.

I knew it was probably a message from Tahlia. Maybe I shouldn't have told her to give me an update on my car. I shut my eyes briefly in embarassment, muttering softly, "I'm sorry."

Everett’s head snapped towards me, “Well, at least your phone is punctual. Next time, keep it quiet during meetings like this.”

His tone was dry, cutting and arrogant all at once.

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I swallowed. I saw the lady's grin widen, and a pang of disgust follows. Her delight at someone else’s embarrassment was painfully obvious.

I opened my mouth to apologize properly, but Everett didn't pause. He turned his attention to the group.

"Now. Who among you can personally find me a match? I don’t mean general matchmaking. I mean… someone who can manage the entire process. Meetings, introductions, schedules —every single detail, from start to finish, until it’s done. Someone I can rely on completely. A female."

The lady raised her hand almost too quickly, a smile lighting her face as she spoke. “Absolutely! I’d love the opportunity"

"Good. Get to it." He said in response.

Her gasp of delight made my chest tighten further. I almost scoffed, too stunned at his decision. She had literally swooned over him since we walked in, and now she was rewarded with a small, deliberate gesture that confirmed she would be his Personal Strategist?

“Interview’s over,”he said, and it hit me like a wall. I hadn’t expected that.

He sat up in his chair with a casual arrogance that made my skin crawl. "I'm pleased to inform you all that we have our selections, too."

I felt frustrated. I wanted to speak, to protest, to remind him that I had arrived late for a reason beyond my control. But his presence was oppressive. Late or not, I had the skills. I had insight. I could read people, handle clients, organize meetings flawlessly. Tahlia was right when she said all that.

“Actually,” he went on, “I only need two of you."

My stomach twisted.

Just two? Out of all of us?

A familiar hush fell over the room, just like when he first introduced himself.

Everett didn’t hesitate.

“Marina Prescott” he said with a faint smirk, relishing the moment.

Her face lit up like a candle in the dark. She rose gracefully, excitement dancing in her eyes. Meanwhile, I was still flustered, my pride simmering in a way I didn’t want to admit.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, almost matter-of-factly, as though she had expected to hear those words.

I should've seen that coming.

Of course. She’s exactly the type he wants. Every glance she threw his way seemed designed to inflate his already enormous ego.

My pulse raced as he glanced down at the envelopes, then slowly lifted his eyes to scan the rest of the room.

“And…"

He hesitated now, letting the words hang in the air.