Page 2 of Love's a Script
Mary had taken a seat beside Eden with her meal when Sienna, another matchmaker, barreled into the break room, her always present water tumbler dangling from her hand like a loose thread on a garment. Her eyes wildly landed on Mary. “Did you get it? Cruise lead?”
Mary strained to swallow the food in her mouth before answering, “No, I was asked to step in for a radio interview.”
“Really? That’s a pretty big responsibility. It means Cassidy trusts you to represent the agency. Which probably makes you her front-runner.” Sienna had lived most of her life in a small town up north and had never left the country, so she was hungry for this sort of summer adventure.
“I don’t think you should read into it,” Mary said. “We’ve all been assigned extracurricular tasks before.”
This reasoning put Sienna at ease, and she made her exit with a lighter step. Mary tried returning to her lunch, but the break room had a revolving door and shortly ushered in Francine, a veteran amongst the matchmakers.
“Hello, beautiful ladies,” Francine said with an affected drawl found in old Hollywood movies. She surveyed the contents of the refrigerator as she rambled about the details of her morning until abruptly turning to Mary. “I heard you had a meeting with Cass?—”
“My god,” Eden said, slamming her fork onto the table. “She didn’t get cruise lead.”
Francine looked to Mary.
“I wasn’t offered the role,” Mary confirmed.
“Oh, that’s a relief,” Francine said. “Not that you don’t deserve it, but you know…”
After a stretch of uncomfortable silence, Francine quit pretending she’d come for anything more and excused herself.
“Madness,” Eden said when they were alone, and Mary couldn’t object.
Chapter Two
Long after the staff of Hearts Collide left the building for the day, Mary remained. She sat at her desk with printed notes typed in 16-point font and the office telephone receiver at her ear, waiting for her segment on All Intents and Purposes to begin.
The interview-based public radio program, according to their bio, provided audiences with expert perspectives and commentary on the day’s important stories. It was highbrow fare compared to what Mary listened to on her commutes, which as recently as yesterday saw DJ Spice updating listeners on his vape-quitting journey before he introduced a techno remix of a Hozier ballad.
There was a click on the line at last, and Mary could now hear one of the hosts of All Intents and Purposes, Chesa Salvador, speaking in the measured cadence of a broadcast journalist. “Late last week,” Chesa began, “Mayor Kevin Laurie announced his engagement to Jennifer Acres, a chartered accountant he met through a local matchmaking service, Everlasting Connection. Out of respect and privacy for the couple, Everlasting Connection has declined to comment on the union.”
Chesa welcomed Mary to the show and posed a set of simple questions that allowed Mary to introduce herself and settle into the rhythm of the interview.
“I want to start off this discussion with your read of the public’s response to the mayor’s engagement,” Chesa said. “A lot has been made of him seeking out a matchmaker since he’s been one of the city’s most eligible bachelors and presumably didn’t need such a service.”
“Matchmaking doesn’t have to be someone’s last-ditch effort,” Mary said. “And it’s not only for people who have a hard time dating for whatever reason. It’s a great option for anyone who values their time and wants to quickly cut through the noise.”
The other host, Ruben Byers, entered the conversation, and he spoke with a warm, relaxed lilt as if they sat in a living room with dim yellow lighting. “Speaking of dating options,” he said, “I’m sure you’re aware of reports concerning the declining popularity of dating apps among young people as well as what many economists theorize are diminishing physical spaces to meet new people. Do you believe professional matchmaking could be the solution for this problem?”
“For sure,” Mary said. “We’ve seen more and more people in their twenties come through our doors in the last few years. And I’d like to add that matchmaking isn’t new. Cassidy Fowler, the CEO of my agency, is a third-generation matchmaker. It’s an old practice that many cultures around the world still use. In the past it might’ve been the village elder, and today it’s someone like me in a downtown high-rise.”
“Except, in the past, Granny wasn’t charging someone upward of a half a year’s rent to match them with the town cobbler,” Ruben said pointedly, and Mary’s hand stilled where it had been doodling shapes on her note’s margins.
“Yes, it is a premium service,” she said, taking care to add extra brightness to her voice. “Clients pay for the convenience and curation.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Curation. What an interesting word to use when referring to people.” He moved on to the next question while Mary was floundering for a response. “There’s also a certain sentiment that Mayor Laurie’s engagement comes at a convenient time, that it’s a distraction from the scandal that has plagued his city council’s office for nearly a month now. Do you agree?”
“I-I can’t speak to that.”
“All right, can you speak to the artifice inherent to matchmaking?”
Mary frowned. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
“I mean your agency constructs these romantic scenarios, these dates, and even provides outlines on how to optimize the chances of falling in love. I know you’re in the mix, but you must see there’s an artificiality baked into the entire process.”
“No, I don’t see that,” she said, irritation spilling into her tone. “We give guidance and support because dating can be hard, and it takes energy to decide what to do and how to impress. We take care of that so the best version of you gets to shine.”
“Huh. Then do you think the orchestrated dates work in a similar way that music in ads or movies do?” he asked. “Research has long suggested film scores, for instance, can manipulate a viewer into feeling certain emotions, when without that input, they might not have.”
