Page 6 of Love's a Script
“Why did you say that?” Francine asked.
“Because he insulted me and the agency as a whole.”
Ruben was so sure of himself, so sure of his perspective, and she blamed the combination of his wit and handsomeness for that.
“All right, but, hun,” Francine said, “that could’ve been good publicity.”
“I don’t think he’s all that interested in finding love, though,” Mary said as they arrived at the break room. “He wants to do this solely for his documentary.”
His enrolment would’ve meant betraying the purity of the process and that wasn’t worth it. Mary assumed their boss would feel the same way.
“What documentary?” asked Sienna from the kitchenette where she was refilling her outsize tumbler with water. Eden, already seated with her lunch, looked up, curious as well.
“The radio host Mary had a little spat with,” Francine explained, “wants to join the agency as part of a documentary.”
“And she’s not taking him on—you’re not taking him on?” Sienna asked.
Mary shook her head.
“But that’s free advertisement,” Sienna said.
“That’s what I was telling her!”
Feeling desperate to make them understand, Mary said, “He thinks our operation works through mind control. Like we’re puppeteers or witches.”
The Twins entered the room at that moment, asking, “Who’s a witch?” And Francine, once again, explained. Meanwhile, Mary joined Eden at the table with her lunch, hopeful her sharp, no-nonsense colleague would validate her choice. “You get where I’m coming from, right?” Mary asked.
“Yeah, and I agree with you,” Eden said. “But I also get what they’re saying. Cassidy is a businessperson first before she’s a matchmaker.”
Mary fell quiet as the fizz she’d been coasting on all morning flattened. Deep in thought, she picked at her food and tried to hold on to her convictions, so she didn’t immediately notice when the Twins, Sienna, and Francine assembled before her.
“We don’t want you to think of this as a poaching situation,” one of them said, “but we were wondering if you would be okay with one of us taking on the radio host as a client?”
Mary realized then that because she’d misjudged what her boss’s position on Ruben’s enrolment would be, she hadn’t appreciated how the situation could be personally beneficial. In bringing this opportunity to Cassidy, Mary might begin to repair the damage she’d caused with the radio interview.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Mary told the other matchmakers. “He’s mine. He’s my client.”
Chapter Five
Ruben, by virtue of being a radio show host, began his days at 6 a.m. His alarm would wake him, and the glow from his laptop screen would chase away any remaining sleep. First, he’d read the wire stories, then scroll through the legacy news outlets before moving on to independent sites, bookmarking the pieces he wanted to read in full once caffeinated. From there, he’d command his smart speaker to turn on the radio for local traffic and weather reports while he showered and dressed.
However, on this particular morning, he’d abandoned his routine for a dense questionnaire from Hearts Collide Matchmaking. Yesterday, two days after Mary had refused to take him on as a client, he received a call from her boss.
“We’d love to extend an offer to you to join our agency,” she’d said.
Ruben wanted to say he was no longer interested. He’d already been rethinking alternative framing devices for the feature. But one thing he and Chesa had agreed on from the show’s inception was that they’d produce the best shows they could regardless of topic, and he knew the feature would be better with the matchmaking element.
“Which matchmaker will I be working with?” he’d asked.
“Mary Neilson. Unless you’d prefer someone else.”
“No, I’m happy to work with Mary.” It was unclear if she would feel the same about him, but if he was going to have to bear this process, he’d prefer to do it with someone who knew his opinion on matchmaking and he didn’t have to humor.
Slouched against his headboard, he worked through the questions, struggling to understand how the agency knowing his favorite candy (Swedish Fish), favorite color (green), and the side of the bed he slept on (middle) would lead to meaningful matching.
He ditched the documents to get ready for the day, and after leaving his apartment, he stopped at the coffee shop where he and his cousin met up on some mornings. In that bubble of chatty early risers, hissing espresso machines, and blaring blenders, Ruben easily spotted Junie with her heavily pierced face and long twists she’d fashioned high on her head.
“Your tea’s cold,” she said when Ruben dropped into the seat across from hers.
