“Exactly! The irony is part of the appeal. The man who helps everyone else find love but doesn’t believe in it for himself? That’s a whole narrative. People eat that up.”
“That seems… sad, actually.”
Lucas’s expression softened. “Maybe. But it’s also very on brand for Dane. He’s married to his work, always has been. This commercial is just playing into the fantasy that even he couldn’t resist the power of Cupid’s Arrow. Everyone knows Dane Kavanagh doesn’t date.”
“Then why does he run a dating company?” The question had been bothering me since I’d started working at Cupid’s Arrow. How could someone who so clearly avoided personal connections be the mastermind behind an app designed to create them?
“Because he’s brilliant at business, not at feelings,” Lucas said simply. “He saw a market opportunity and he capitalized on it. The algorithm works, the matchmakers are incredible, and the success rate speaks for itself. But Dane is not interested in the whole idea of love for himself.”
Heidi appeared in the doorway, looking frazzled but determined.
“There you are! We need you on set now. The director is getting antsy and we’re already behind schedule.” She looked me up and down and nodded approvingly. “You look perfect. Come on, we’re losing light.”
“We’re inside,” I pointed out weakly.
“And we’re losing it! Move, move, move!”
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of being ushered onto set, having my makeup touched up one more time because apparently some of the spackle cracked when I laughed. Suddenly I was standing just off camera, waiting for my cue.
Dane was sitting in that same massive chair from the rehearsal. He was wearing black slacks and a pastel pink shirt unbuttoned at the top. His hair was artfully mussed. He was ready for his closeup.
Then he looked up and saw me.
His eyes widened. Just for a second, but I saw the way his gaze traveled from my face down over the dress and back up again.
I tried to walk toward my mark and immediately wobbled in my heels.
“Careful!” Heidi called. “Although honestly, you only need to walk about two steps before you’re basically draping yourself over Dane, so if you can make it that far without falling, we’re golden.”
The director appeared in front of me. “You’ll walk into frame, take his hand. He’ll pull you close, you’ll put your arms around his neck, kiss his cheek. Very simple, very romantic. We’ve been through this. You’ll do great.”
Simple. Right. Simple like defusing a bomb was simple.
I glanced at Dane again and found him still staring at me. He cleared his throat, shifted in his chair, and for a moment I was sure he was going to call the whole thing off. He looked off kilter in a way I’d never seen before. My boss would give a statue a run for its money. He didn’t express anything with his face.
“Alright, everyone ready?” the director called. “Ina, you good?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Dane?”
He nodded too, but his eyes hadn’t left me.
This was bad. This was so bad. Because touching him during the rehearsal had been like touching a live wire, and we’d both been wearing regular clothes and I hadn’t been done up like some kind of ideal version of myself. The thought of putting my arms around him and pressing my lips to his cheek legit gave me goose bumps.
It felt dangerous. Like standing on the edge of a cliff in a windstorm.
“Action!”
Everything else fell away. It was all background noise as my focus narrowed to one thing.
Dane.
He looked directly at the camera. The uncertain, off-balance man from thirty seconds ago disappeared, replaced by the confident CEO I knew oh so well.
“I’m Dane Kavanagh,” he said, his voice rich and warm and completely commanding. “And a few weeks ago, I was named Most Eligible Bachelor of 2026.”
He paused and then slowly smiled.
