I appreciate the offer, but we both know I'm not leaving.
A woman appears in the doorway. She's in her mid-thirties, perfectly styled in a dove-gray suit, warm smile that reaches her eyes.
"Rosanna Lopez? I'm Tessa Bloom. Thank you so much for coming in."
Her voice is gentle, like she's greeting a friend rather than a potential client. She gestures toward the hallway. "Come on back. We'll talk through everything."
Luna stands with me, but Tessa shakes her head kindly. "I'm sorry—today's consultation is one-on-one. But there's excellent coffee in the lounge, and we have pastries from that bakery on Fifth."
Luna shoots me a look that says call me if you need an escape route, then settles back into her chair.
I follow Tessa down the hall, my heartbeat loud in my ears.
The consultation room is small, private, and comfortable. Two armchairs separated by a low table with a pitcher of water and two glasses.
Tessa gestures for me to sit, and I do, clutching my canvas tote.
Tessa pours us both water, her movements unhurried. "I know this process can feel overwhelming," she begins. "So let me start by explaining what we do here at ERS, and then you can ask any questions you have. Does that sound good?"
I nod, not trusting my voice yet.
"We arrange legally binding relationships," she says gently. "Clear terms. Clear timelines."
It sounds reasonable when she says it like that. Almost ethical. But my stomach still twists.
Tessa pulls a folder from the side table. "Normally this process takes weeks, but we have a client with an urgent timeline. He's also looking for a short term marriage, and he matches your profile remarkably well." She opens the folder and slides a single page toward me.
I look down at the page.
And my breath catches.
There's a photo. It's professional, controlled, exactly what you'd expect from a corporate headshot. Dark hair. Steel-blueeyes. The same unreadable expression I saw two nights ago across a crowded community center.
Seamus O'Malley. CEO, O'MalleyMart. Age 34.
"No." The word comes out sharp, automatic. I push the folder back across the table. "Absolutely not."
Tessa doesn't look surprised. She just nods slowly. "Can I ask why?"
"Because he's—" I stop, trying to find words that don't sound completely unhinged. "His company is trying to demolish the building I want to save. He's the entire reason I'm here."
"I see." Tessa's expression is thoughtful, not judgmental. "That does complicate things."
"Complicate?" I let out a brittle laugh. "It makes it impossible. I can't pretend to be in love with the man who represents everything I'm fighting against."
Tessa closes the folder but doesn't put it away. "I understand. And I want to be clear—you're under no obligation to proceed. But I also want to make sure you have all the information."
She leans forward slightly. "The timeline for this match is extremely compressed. Which is why the compensation package is significantly higher than standard."
She names a figure. It's more than I asked for.
More than the building costs.
My brain starts calculating before I can stop it. Renovations. Staff. A year of operating costs. Maybe two.
My mouth goes dry.
"I know this isn't what you expected," Tessa says quietly. "And I know it feels contradictory. But sometimes the people we clash with publicly are the ones we're most compatible with privately."
