I go over my checklist to chronicle what went so wrong with her first match. Based on her initial profile, Julian should’ve adored Moyo, and sheshould’ve eaten it up. Even working without The Sight, I felt good about that one. But alas, I messed up…again.
Isn’t that good?I hush the inner voice that has gotten even louder since the night at the party. I cannot be with Moyo. She has a plan to useCupid’s Bowto find love and I have a plan to succeed at work. We’re soulmates in our aligned wishes. I can’t mess that up just because I find myself hooked onto her every word, think about her constantly, and her waistline elicits dormant physical reactions.
The coffee shop door opens and a gust of cold air attacks my face.
I suck in a short breath, and then I see her.
Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, drawing attention to her face. This is the first time I’ve seen her hair up, and somehow, she’s even more stunning. She scans the room, her piercing eyes focused on finding her target. It’s interesting, seeing this side of her. It’s clear she’s still in work mode because she’s more like the Moyo I met in the hospital than the one I’ve seen since then. Nothing like the carefree Moyo I met a couple nights ago.
She pivots in my direction and her face blooms, her eyes softening in tandem with a sheepish smile, but as quickly as her expression arrived, it disappears.
“So, so sorry I’m late,” she says. The urgency in her tone is a mismatch with her steady pace.
“No worries.” I stand to welcome her, hastily pulling out her chair before she gets the chance. First, she looks at me, then the chair, and then back at my face. I raise my eyebrows and nod at the seat. Our gaze locks. Moyo squints, while my eyes widen.
This is as intense as our stares on the dance floor, maybe even more so.
Moyo blinks first. “Fuck.”
The unexpected expletive tugs up the corner of my lip. It’s cute. She’s cute.
“It smiles!” Moyo says dramatically as she takes the seat.
I push her in. “Good?” Her nod is my reply, then I take my seat opposite hers. “I do smile.”
“Between our first meeting, the mixer, meeting in your offices,” Moyo counts on her fingers. “Even the other night…” Her tone borders on hesitation.
I wasn’t going to bring it up if she didn’t, but here we are.
“The dance was very different.”
“I didn’t know it was you,” Moyo says.
“Me neither. If I did, I would’ve just said hello.”
Moyo lets out a weighted exhale. “So, we good? Do we need to report this to Merc or anyone?”
Considering the employee handbook and my selfish goal, I say, “We didn’t go beyond dancing, and we didn’t know it was each other. If your mask didn’t fall off, this would be any other meeting. Therefore, we don’t need to, but if you feel more comfortable or would rather change coaches, I completely understand.”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”
“I’m very comfortable from where I’m sitting. Are you?”
“As I could ever be,Coach.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief and amusement. I can’t look away. Like I’m being consumed by a black hole, the pull is intense and out of my control. It takes everything to force myself back into reality.
I clear my throat in a semblance of professionalism. “Before we get into the specifics of the date, I’d like to get to know you and your interests more. Sounds good?” I ask cautiously. She stormed out the last time I tried to dig deeper.
“I actually wanted to apologize for our last meeting. It was a little unnerving to be told that my meticulously put-together profile wasn’t good enough.” Moyo picks at her fingernails.
I stretch my hand towards her. Not touching, of course. But holding space. “Dating profiles are hard. Distilling yourself and your wants into a few hundred words is near impossible. Especially because we rarely think about what we want. We just go with the flow until something clicks, but that doesn’t happen for everyone. And it’s not just in dating, but almost every facet of life. We hardly ever sit down to reflect on what we truly want.” My mind drifts away from dating to my life, my role as Saturn.
Ever since I took on this role, I haven’t had a minute to examine how I want my life to go. Do I even have a life to direct when I’m beholden to my family and godly duties?
“Sounds like you can relate.” Moyo’s voice softens.
“Can’t we all?”
“Touché,” Moyo says. Her eyes light up again. “I have an idea. I know you have questions for me. How about when I answer, you do the same.”
