Page 50 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

ROSALIND

Eleven days until Valentine's Day, and Seattle's record-breaking snowstorm has turned the city into some sort of romantic comedy backdrop. The kind where everything looks magical until you actually have to live in it.

I've been staring at the cream-colored envelope in my hands for approximately fifteen minutes, letting my morning coffee go cold while reading the gold-embossed text over and over:

Together with their families

Joel Franklin and Samantha Carpenter

Request the honor of your presence...

"That's either a murder confession or a wedding invitation," Dani observes, appearing in my office doorway like a strawberry-blonde popup book from Hell. "Given your expression, I'm betting on the latter."

"What gave it away?" I set the invitation aside, trying to ignore how the expensive paper somehow manages to look smug. "The full-body cringe or the cold coffee?"

"The fact that you're wearing your emotional support cardigan again." She gestures to my well-worn blue sweater. "Plus, William trauma-baked three trays of 'heartbreak cannoli' this morning after seeing the mailman deliver it."

"It's not heartbreak," I protest. "It's just..." I wave at the invitation. "Inefficient."

"Inefficient?"

"I'm forty-one years old, running a matchmaking service that's being slowly replaced by apps, and my ex-husband is marrying my cousin." I grab my coat. "Meanwhile, I'm fake-dating a tech billionaire who creates algorithms about desk stability."

"Speaking of your favorite robot..." Dani scrolls through her phone. "The Thursday Night Singles group is very excited about having him speak tonight. Apparently, the promise of 'Seattle's Most Eligible Tech Bachelor Explains Love Through Data' is quite the draw."

I freeze halfway into my coat. "That's tonight?"

"Along with Marvin the Magnificent's first performance as my new suitor." She sighs dreamily. "He's a street magician who exclusively refers to himself in the third person. Very mysterious."

"Of course he is." I check my watch. Six hours until I have to introduce Grayson to my group. Six hours to prepare for whatever chaos ensues when Seattle's most logical bachelor meets Heart & Soul's most emotional clients. “Dani, do you think it’s a good idea to bring another one of your dates to Thursday Night group?”

“Of course I do!” Her doe-like eyes pull down at the corners. “Don’t you? I mean, isn’t that what Heart & Soul is all about? Finding love?”

Guilt tugs at my guess. “I guess you’re right. It is. I’m sorry.”

"Marvin the Magnificent predicts great success!" a voiceannounces from somewhere above us. We look up to find a man in a sparkly cape hanging upside-down from what appears to be invisible wires.

A white dove materializes out of nowhere, landing on my desk with what I swear is a judgmental expression.

"Marvin the Magnificent apologizes for the early entrance," the magician continues, still dangling. "Marvin the Magnificent's timing was slightly off."

"You don't say," I mutter, just as the wires give way.

The next six hours pass in a blur of wedding invitation-induced anxiety and impromptu magic tricks. By the time our Thursday Night Singles group assembles, the back room at La Famiglia looks like a dove sanctuary and Marvin the Magnificent has somehow made three different pieces of furniture "temporarily" disappear.

"Remember," I tell Dani as we set up chairs, "no spontaneous illusions during the meeting."

"Marvin the Magnificent makes no promises!" her cape-wearing suitor declares, materializing between us. "Magic, like love, cannot be constrained by mere schedules!"

A dove appears in my coffee cup.

"Sorry I'm late." Grayson's voice carries from the doorway, and my heart forgets how to beat right for a second. "CORA had some thoughts about presentation strategies for discussing relationship algorithms with—" He stops, taking in the scene. "Why is there a bird in your coffee?"

"Marvin the Magnificent works in mysterious ways!" the magician announces, disappearing in a puff of smoke that sets off our fire alarms.

Grayson raises one perfect eyebrow. "I see your HR challenges haven't improved."

"Says the man whose AI tries to calculate coat closet compatibility metrics."

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