“That’s right!” Alisha shouts from the audience. I’m relieved when a couple others in the crowd agree with her.
“Well, folks, this just got very interesting,” Marcus says excitedly, as though he can already envision the ratings his show’s going to get. “Even the audience is getting into it. Olivia, you think Lunar Love and compatibility is better. Bennett, you don’t. How about this? Whoever can match the other with someone they fall in love with first gets an exclusive one-on-one podcast episode, a shout-out on our social media channels where we have over one million followers, and a feature on our website. Heck, we’ll even throw in a dating package for ten giveaway winners, paid for by us.”
“And a feature in our dating column,” the relationship editor chimes in. She sits cross-legged in her chair looking way too entertained.
I’m stunned by how quickly this all escalated. That’s huge exposure. And ten new immediate clients? That may be nothing to ZodiaCupid, but it’s a lot to us. That would reduce our need to find people right away, and we could focus on what we do best. I can physically feel the seconds passing as I process the situation.
“Well?” Marcus asks me before turning back to his microphone and adding, “Listeners at home, we can practically hear Olivia thinking. What will her decision be?”
I’ve always admired how Marcus builds anticipation in his shows, but now that his tactics for keeping listeners tuned in is directed at me, I’m not such a fan.
I extend my hand out to Bennett. “I’m in.”
“Excellent,” Bennett says, wrapping his fingers around mine. The contact sparks memories of last night: touching hands, homemade sushi, stolen glances under the stars, the rare feeling of unbearable lightness. It was like being with a completely different person. I shake off the drive-in version of Bennett. He’s long gone.
“Folks, it looks like we have ourselves a Match-Off!” Marcus announces.
Pulled back into the moment of being watched by thousands of eyes, I lock my own two with Bennett’s. He gives me a private, small, crooked smile. The breath in my chest catches. I hate what that does to me.
This is going to be fine. I know for a fact his app doesn’t work and that my matching record is way higher than his. I’ll get lots of press for Lunar Love, ZodiaCupid will be exposed for the sham that it is, and Bennett will find love. It’s a win-win for everyone.
I grip his hand tighter and pull him closer. Our cheeks graze as I bring my lips up against his ear. “I hope you’re ready to fall in love.”
Chapter 10
Six days and one very important match later, I claim an empty seat under a palm tree wrapped in twinkle lights and set my tray of dumplings and cup of boba beer onto the sticky table. I drag the metal chair a foot to the left along the concrete ground until I have a clear view of one table in particular across the courtyard. I keep my sunglasses on, even though the sun has already started to set.
“Do you have eyes on the targets?” Alisha asks, her voice booming through my earbuds.
“Rat and Dragon are now seated. I repeat, they just sat down,” I say quietly, feeling like an undercover agent in a spy movie. Why haven’t I been doing this for all of my clients’ dates?
Lines of people form in front of food trucks, dessert booths, and the beer garden outside of the San Gabriel Mission Playhouse, the backdrop to this year’s Dumpling and Beer Festival. Laughter fills the air as families, couples, and fellow singles hunt down dinner and taste test delicious beer flavors like matcha and mango.
I bite into my mac and cheese dumpling and prepare to witness sparks flying. Across the courtyard, Bennett and Harper toast their beers and dig into their dumpling assortment and pile of mochi waffles.
“I hope they like each other,” I say into the headphone microphone. “He needs to fall in love.”
“You combed through the entire database and thought through each of their traits. I think they’re going to like each other,” Alisha says reassuringly.
“They’re both entrepreneurs and share a similar work ethic. She has big ideas for the future, and he’s resourceful enough to support them. She’s interested in food, he’s creative with his food pairings and is actually a decent cook—”
“This is according to the sushi he made you on your date, right?” she asks dramatically.
I draw hearts into the condensation on my beer glass. “It wasn’t a date, Alisha. It was research.”
Alisha snickers. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Speaking of research, Harper doesn’t know you’re there, right?”
“No! Neither of them do. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly for them. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes how wonderful she is.”
I watch as Bennett and Harper smile politely at each other. Harper laughs at something he says, and I become acutely aware of how she’s angled her body toward him.
“They’re sitting awfully close for a first date,” I mumble.
“That’s a good thing, remember?” Alisha says.
“Yeah. Yes, definitely. Of course,” I repeat like I’m trying to convince myself. “There’s usually some warm-up time involved, that’s all.”
“You’re good at what you do. You’ve already warmed them up. Now it’s game time,” Alisha says, slightly distracted. On the other end, I hear the opening song of My Best Friend’s Wedding in the background.
I nod to myself. “Right. We’ve got this in the bag. By the end of the night, he’ll be swooning.”
Harper drops her fork, and Bennett reacts before she has a chance to, picking up the utensil and standing to grab her another one. “I wonder if he’ll throw himself on the ground for her, too,” I mumble. At the thought of him doing that for Harper, my breathing becomes shallower.
“He did what?” Alisha asks, humming along to the movie’s song.
My heart thumps hollowly. “He was a gentleman, that’s all,” I say, not wanting to give more life to a kind gesture that probably meant nothing.
The crinkle of a plastic bag cuts the first part of Alisha’s sentence off. “—hope she’s into him. From the way you described him, he sounds intense. Now that I think about it, though, he could’ve reacted to the article a lot worse, so maybe he’s not so bad.”
I take a sip of beer through the wide straw, a mouthful of tapioca coming up with it. “He’s not a bad guy. Besides, he’s our enemy. Not hers.”
“By the way, have you talked to your Pó Po yet?” Alisha asks.
A group forms around a table to cheer on a dumpling-eating competition. “Not yet. I need more details first. He could be messing with me. Trying to get into my head.”
“That’d be a bizarre way to do it, don’t you think?” she says.
I narrow my eyes in Bennett’s direction. “This guy’s capable of anything.”