I imagine him on a cloud, laughing heartily as he watches me manage fifty couples simultaneously.
My phone vibrates.
I sigh. “Lila, please, tell me it’s not another crisis.”
She looks at me with the face of someone who has bad news but wishes she didn't have to deliver it.
“It’s your mother.” Her brown eyes scrutinize me, and she adjusts her red glasses.
“What did she do this time?”
“She says she wants you in her office. Right now.”
I freeze. “Did she sayright noworwhen you can?”
“She saidright now. And she used that ‘emergency meeting’ tone.”
“Fantastic.”
I take off my glasses, rub my eyes as we enter my office searching for the latest dossier. I imagine she wants to talk about that.
My office is at the end of the hall, fully furnished and designed by me. The door is separated from the rest by a frosted glass wall engraved with a large golden bow and arrow.
Glass desk, a giant Mac, stacks of files, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and a digital whiteboard full of notes, phone numbers, and hand-drawn hearts.
“Do you want me to bring you another coffee?” Lila asks as I look around.
Ah, there’s the dossier.
“No, thank you. Bring me flowers. And maybe a coffin.”
She laughs, but she knows I’m not entirely joking.
I compose myself, adjust my jacket, gather my hair into a quick knot, and grab my iPad too.
Every step in the corridor is accompanied by the sound of notifications still vibrating in my purse.
Katherine Heart isn’t just my mother.
She is the woman who turned matchmaking into an empire.
And when she calls you into her office, it’s never to ask how you’re doing.
I sigh, looking at the golden logo on the wall—Cupid’s Agency: We Make Love Happen.
Perfect.
The only thing I can never seem to make happen, apparently, is a break.
I stop in front of her office door, knock once.
“Come in,” her voice says, as crisp and sharp as ever.
I breathe.
I smooth down my shirt.
And I enter.
