Page 22 of Love's a Script
Her panic and actions now seemed illogical, and she turned to look at Eden and found her colleague staring back, bewildered.
“Sorry, I thought I saw a client,” Mary said.
“You owe them money or something?” Eden asked as they rejoined the flow of pedestrians.
“Nothing like that. I just keep bumping into him everywhere.”
Their library run-in and the accidental carpool that past weekend would’ve been enough for Mary to make that statement, but she’d also been served up several internet banner ads for Ruben’s radio show where he was smiling beside his cohost. His seemingly constant presence had made it difficult for Mary to ignore a certain truth.
“Have you ever been attracted to a client?” Mary asked, immediately regretting her choice to pose the question, but with a casual air and hardly a glance, Eden said, “Yeah.”
Mary felt it necessary to add, “Not in a trivial way, but in a ‘you would if you could’ way.”
“Once.”
They arrived at the small restaurant, a favorite for soups and sandwiches, and the warmth inside promptly chased the chill that had gripped them on their walk. It was a relief to know that someone as measured as Eden had also experienced what was considered among matchmakers to be the most pathetic pitfall.
“What happened? What did you do?” Mary asked as they joined the line to order.
“I matched him with a physiotherapist with a black belt in tae kwon do.”
Mary had found previous clients attractive or thought them a good catch, but it was as informational as their enneagram type or star sign. Having so much insight into a person’s inner world, neuroses, hopes, and dreams clinicalized the interactions. Made it difficult to feel allured by the good or put off by the not-so-good. But that was where Mary believed her complications with Ruben stemmed: she had never really seen him as a client. How they met, his documentary, and how she was set to professionally gain from the arrangement had made sure of that. Not to mention how unencumbered she was around him. He coaxed her to say the things she’d never say, to share her brash and irreverent opinions. That sort of freedom was intoxicating for someone like her.
“So who’s the client?” Eden asked, her eyes fixed on the menu board on the back wall.
Mary couldn’t detect a ravenous hunger for gossip in her colleague’s tone, only mild curiosity, but perhaps she was telling herself this to rationalize opening up and would live to regret it when she was the subject of office whispers in a few days.
“The radio show host, Ruben.”
“Hm, okay.” It was unclear if it was an appraisal of Mary’s taste or not. “You don’t have feelings for him, do you?”
“Oh, no. No, not at all. No.”
“Then there’s no problem,” Eden declared.
“Except I’d be so embarrassed if he ever suspected anything at all.” Mary could see a situation where Ruben believed his unsuccessful matches were by design, a sabotage set by a besotted matchmaker.
“You have, what, a month left with him?” Eden said. “Keep interactions short. And if communication can be done over email, opt for that. You’ll be fine.”
Mary nodded, drawing confidence from Eden’s certainty.
She would be fine.
Chapter Thirteen
File no. 05 – Interview with Paula Nasri, music journalist
CHESA SALVADOR: Last year, you declared Lauren Birdie’s Grammy-nominated and JUNO-Award-winning single “Away We Go” the wedding first dance song to beat them all?—
PAULA NASRI: [Laughs] Yeah, and it was controversial! You’d have thought I’d deleted Etta James’s discography the way people in my email inbox reacted. But in the end, no one can say it’s not a great song.
CS: What do you think the song captures about love that makes it so affective?
PN: It showcases the journey of falling in love with not just the lyrics but also with the actual music production. The first verse has a light, stripped-down production that echoes those first weeks after meeting someone new, when you might be tentative but hopeful. The chorus is heavy with percussion, and the kick drum sounds like a rapid heartbeat. It makes the listener feel like the stakes are ratcheting up and hearts are on the line. Then the music swells after the bridge, and the song ends with Lauren belting this big triumphant note. And we know she’s gotten her happily ever after.
Mary traveled by shuttle two hours outside of the city to the Sun Valley Hotel and Conference Center for her former clients’ wedding. She arrived at the hotel the evening before the big day and spent time writing an effusive card of congratulations to the couple.
In the morning, hours before the ceremony was scheduled to begin, Mary left her room with the card and a gift in hand and rode the elevator up several floors to a suite at the end of the hallway. Loud talk and music slipped past the suite door held ajar by the deadbolt. Mary knocked as a formality and entered the room veiled in clouds of hairspray. Six women in varying states of dress flittered around, paying her no mind as she passed them and the abandoned plastic tiaras and hot pink “Team Bride” sashes.
