2. Magnolia Steel
Chapter 2
Magnolia Steel
What a beautiful space this has turned out to be.Comfortable velvet seating, carefullyselected artwork, and freshflowers come together to provide a mix of comfort and elegance. Softlighting gives the dating suite a warm and inviting feel. A simple divider separates the two areas, ensuring privacy while allowing for easy movement throughout the room.
I aim to make my clients feel completely at ease when they walk in. I believe I’ve accomplished that.
Looking around, the thought crosses my mind: Even I might be able to fall in love in a place like this. A quiet laugh escapes me as I shake my head. Who am I kidding? Love and I don’t mix—like oil and water, best kept at a safe distance.
With only an hour left until the clients arrive for their first date, there’s still work to be done on the female side. Elijah has been hanging around, offering help with every detail. He means well, but his presence is beginning to wear thin.
“Do you need help with the finishing touches?” he asks for what feels like the hundredth time as he hovers too close to the mood board I worked on all week.
I inhale deeply. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”
He doesn’t budge. “Are you sure? Looks like you’re cutting it close. I could grab something for you or move a few things around.”
Stay calm, cool, collected. “Elijah, I really appreciate it. You’ve done a fantastic job here––seriously––but I need to finish up without distractions.”
And if you step on my mood board, I swear I’ll use it as a weapon to beat you to death.
Stylishly, of course.
He backs off, blissfully unaware of how close he’s come to meeting his demise. “All right, I’ll leave you to it then.”
Yes, please step aside and let me do what I do best.
The silence settles over the room, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time. The tension disappears the second he’s out the door.
I take a moment to really look at the space I’ve created. It’s everything I hoped it would be—warm, calm, inviting. With no distractions pulling me away, I can finally take it all in, and yeah… I think I’ve nailed it.
Due to the strict privacy policy, we don’t get many personal details about clients at Soul Sync. I have no idea what this client likes explicitly, but I’ve tailored the room based on the information gathered during the client interview in the vetting procedure: simplicity, elegance, and nothing too overwhelming. It’s all about using the psychology of design to create a calming and approachable space without being too distracting.
And for once, I didn’t have to compromise my design with Macy. The space is entirely mine, and it shows. I love it.
I smooth the fabric of the throw on the armchair and glance around. Perfection… almost. Just a few more adjustments.
I’m almost finished when I hear the door open on the other side of the suite. Whitney’s words drift through, carrying the polished professionalism she reserves for clients. She’s talking to someone—a man. My stomach drops for a second—did Elijah sneak back in? But then I hear it—a deep, distinct Australian accent. Definitely not Elijah.
My pulse quickens as it hits me—the male client. Early. Very early. And Whitney has already escorted him into the men’s side of the suite while I’m still here not quite ready to leave.
“Oh fuck-a-duck,” I say under my breath.
Of course he’s early—because why wouldn’t he be, right, when I need everything to be flawless? I’ve poured so much into this project, perfecting every detail to create the ideal atmosphere for the client. Normally, I’m ready on time, early even, but this time? No chance. Elijah has been hovering nonstop like a human speed bump slowing me down at every step.
“Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Can I bring you a drink while you settle in?” Whitney’s voice is smoother than a politician’s promise. The oh-so-polished way she speaks to clients feels worlds apart from the girl who’ll chug a beer with me after work.
Tonight, we’re definitely grabbing beers bigger than our clients’ egos, if that’s possible. It’s a tradition at this point—work hard, celebrate harder.
“Water would be great, thanks,” the client says, his deep Australian accent carrying through the divider.
“Would you care for sparkling or spring?”
“Sparkling, please.”
Sparkling, of course. Heaven forbid, he drinks something as lowly as tap water. I bet he’s never had water from a lime-green garden hose that’s been baking in the sun all summer long—water so hot you could steep tea in it. He’d probably keel over on the spot.
Just as I’m deciding how I’ll make a stealthy exit, Sophie slips into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Her eyes widen in apology, and she tiptoes toward me, speaking in a whisper.
“Magnolia, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes dart in the direction where the client is on the other side of the divider. “The male client arrived early.”
I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Why didn’t Whitney seat him in the waiting room?”
She winces slightly, her lips pressing together in a sheepish, apologetic way. “He requested to wait in the suite instead. Said he wanted a moment to settle into his surroundings.”
Clients who come to Soul Sync expect everything to be tailored perfectly to their needs. It’s what they’re paying for, after all. And we’re here to give them exactly that.
“Is he nervous?” I whisper, still trying to figure out how to finish up this side of the suite and make my getaway.
Sophie nods. “Very. He’s doing his best to play it cool, but I can tell.”
“It’s fine. Not your fault.” I brush it off with a wave of my hand, glancing around the suite. “I need to make a few final changes before I go.”
Sophie nods in understanding and quietly slips out, leaving me alone to finish up. I make the final adjustments—smoothing a pillow here, adjusting the throw there—my mind already plotting the quickest way to make my escape.
I glance around one last time. The suite looks exactly how I envisioned it.
I give the room one final approving look, telling myself it’s time to get out before anything else happens. And that’s when the unmistakable chime of my phone cuts through the silence as I’m about to make my exit.
Ohhh, fuck-a-doodle-doo!
I dash toward my phone, fumbling to hit the silence button, but it’s too late. The alert has already echoed through the room. Meanwhile, this morning’s French toast does a somersault in my stomach, teasing whether it’ll decide to stay put or make a grand exit.
My ringer is usually off, but with today’s workload, I turned it on in case someone from work needed to reach me.
And of course, it’s Elijah. My annoyance with him bubbles up again.
Before I can even process how to move forward in a professional manner, I hear the client’s deep voice on the other side of the divider. “Hello?”
Phone in hand, all I can do is freeze. There’s no avoiding it now. “Uh… hello,” I manage, hoping he can’t hear the awkwardness in my voice.
Silence stretches between us for a moment. “Are you… my, uh, date?” His words stumble slightly, the uncertainty noticeable.
A soft gasp escapes me. “Oh, umm… clients who’ve been paired with potential mates are called Soul Sync matches. Not dates. But no, I’m not yours. I’m the set designer. I was putting the final touches on this side of the room.”
“ Soul Sync matches ,” he parrots, sounding intrigued.
Odd. The term is used repeatedly in their contracts.
“So, you’re the person who designed the room I’m in?”
I nod, then realize he can’t see through the divider. Wow. My brain cells are really thriving today. “Yes, it was me.”
I imagine him glancing around, taking in every detail of the room. “The design is really nice. It feels like you knew exactly what I would like.”
Yes! I pump my fist in a victorious motion. A quiet exhale escapes me, and for the first time, a bit of tension eases. I never hear client feedback about what I do, so knowing he actually likes it is a relief. And I’ll admit, a little flattering. “Thank you. I’m given a brief summary about the client—nothing identifying, of course—and I design the space based on that information.”
“You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.” A small flush of pride warms me as his compliment sinks in.
He clears his throat softly. “I arrived a little early. I thought it would give me a moment to adjust to my surroundings before I’m thrown into a conversation with a complete stranger on the other side of a wall.”
His words throw me for a loop. I’ve never considered the possibility before—the nerves, the uncertainty. People who can afford Soul Sync’s services always struck me as the type brimming with confidence, the kind who walk into a room and own it. But maybe, despite their wealth and status, they need a moment to steady themselves, too.
“I completely understand needing a moment to settle in. Is there anything I can adjust in the space to help you feel more comfortable next time?”
“The room feels homey so keep everything as it is. It’s comfortable.”
A surge of satisfaction swells in my chest. “That’s always my goal. The idea is to make you feel at ease so you can focus on the conversations you’ll be having with your match.”
This man showed up early to calm his nerves, and here I am, jabbering away. He’s not going to find peace with me hanging around, disrupting the atmosphere. “I’ll step out so you can relax.”
“Actually, could you stay for a little while longer? Talking to you is helping me get over my jitters.”
Gabby’s reminder to embrace new roles echoes in my mind. If a little conversation helps ease his nerves, then it’s part of my job to step up. “Of course, I can stay and chat for a bit.”
A deep breath escapes him, followed by a soft “whew,” as if he’s been holding it in all along. “Thanks. I’m really grateful.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
Unsure of what to say next, I wait for him to speak, hoping he’ll take the lead.
“So, what’s your name?”
Naturally, asking my name is the first question. It’s a simple way to ease into conversation, but this isn’t exactly a normal situation. “At Soul Sync, we have a strict privacy policy to protect both our clients and employees, so I’m not able to share that information about myself.”
“Understandable.” A beat passes. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“I don’t. To me, you’re Julius Caesar, your assigned alias.”
His laughter comes easily, the sound warm and amused. “My alias is Julius Caesar ? Seriously?”
Amusement tugs at the corner of my mouth. “All our matched clients are assigned the names of an iconic couple. The husband of Soul Sync’s creator is a huge history buff. It’s kind of a nod to him.”
“That’s hilarious,” he says with a chuckle. “I guess my attorney forgot to mention that little detail.”
“Well, now you know, Caesar . But it should’ve been mentioned multiple times in the contract you most assuredly read.” A bit of concern crosses my mind—how did he miss such a detail? It’s a standard part of the Soul Sync agreement.
He brushes it off with a laugh. “I’m sure it was. Guess I skimmed a little too fast. So, if I’m Julius Caesar, that must mean my Soul Sync match is––?”
It really is comical, Gabby’s system of assigning aliases to clients. “You guessed it. Cleopatra.”
“Makes sense. Keeping it all historically accurate.”
“Cleopatra was never his wife, but their relationship was significant enough to shape history—and cause plenty of drama along the way. It’s part of the quirky charm here at Soul Sync.”
“I can’t help but notice that you sound American.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Did you relocate to Australia, or are you here temporarily?”
“Just here the next three months while on assignment with Soul Sync.”
Three months for now, but what happens to our Australian sister branch after that? Will Gabby hire people locally in Australia? Will she rotate the team every few months? No, that doesn’t make sense. It’s too costly to keep sending people back and forth. Surely, she’ll hire locally and establish a team here once we’re fully settled.
“Are you enjoying your time in the land down under ?” His deep voice carries a playful rhythm, almost singing the words in the unmistakable style of Men at Work , mimicking the famous song I’m quite familiar with.
A surprised grin spreads across my face at his humorous impersonation, and I let out a small laugh. Who knew this guy with the jitters had that in him?
“I’d love to say yes, but I haven’t had much time to get out and explore. It’s been a whirlwind of work since I got here.”
“That’s too bad. Sydney is an amazing city with so much to see and do.”
My research on Sydney has been extensive, but there’s nothing like hearing suggestions from a local. “What should I do when I actually find some time?”
“For starters, you should definitely check out our beaches—Bondi, Coogee, Manly. They have some of the best surfing in the world.”
The thought of surfing makes me cringe, and my body still cries out in protest at the idea of trying that again. “I love a good beach day, but it’s a no for me on the surfing. I’m absolutely terrible at it. I spent more time wiping out and swallowing saltwater than actually standing on the board.”
He chuckles. “Sounds like you haven’t had the best teacher. With the right guidance, I bet you’d be riding waves in no time.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw me in action. I wiped out so spectacularly that even the hungriest sharks skedaddled.” The memory of it is forever scorched in my brain—an epic disaster on water.
He gives a thoughtful “hmph,” like he’s turning it over in his mind. “Well, even if you’re not surfing, watching the pros is something else. But you don’t need to surf to enjoy the beaches—the views alone are incredible. And if you’re into nature, the Blue Mountains are a must. Great hiking, stunning scenery. Definitely worth it.”
“My to-do list is getting longer.”
“You can’t skip the Sydney Opera House. It’s one of those places you’ve got to see while you’re here. If you can, catch a show. They’ve got way more than opera—there’s theater, concerts, all kinds of performances happening year-round.”
I have eclectic taste in music, but opera? That’s never been on my radar. Growing up the way I did, it wasn’t exactly part of the landscape. “I had no idea they offered so much variety. I’ll have to check it out.”
“And if you’re feeling adventurous, there’s climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Not that I’ve ever done it myself. Or ever will.”
I hold in a laugh, unsure how he might react if I let it slip. “Sounds like someone is afraid of heights.”
“Extreme heights and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms.”
There’s something surprisingly endearing about this man openly admitting his fear. Most men would keep something like that to themselves unless absolutely necessary.
“I’ve got to be honest with you, miss. I don’t really understand how talking to someone with a wall between us is supposed to help me find a wife.”
His hesitation is understandable. This isn’t the normal way of meeting someone, and I can’t blame him for feeling unsure about it. “It’s different, for certain, but that’s the point. A lot of the work has already been done for you—things like weeding out incompatibles. The wall helps keep your identity safe, especially if you’re well-known. It encourages more honest conversations. There’s no danger of sharing your darkest secret and then seeing it splattered all over the internet the next day.”
“I suppose you’re right.” His voice softens, calmer now. “This setup makes me feel safe—like I can actually talk to a woman for the first time in a long time.” His words take me by surprise, and I’m not entirely sure what he means. Safe? What’s made him feel unsafe before? I don’t want to brush past it, but it’s not my place to push him to share something so personal.
Instead, I aim to keep things light. “Look at you, already so comfortable talking to me. I bet you’re kicked back in that cozy big chair with your feet up on the ottoman right now.”
He lets out a low hum of amusement. “Fair call.”
“And you’re finding it easy to talk to me, right?”
“Yeah, I must admit that you’re very easy to talk to. Your voice is… soothing. And I like your accent very much.”
The tension in my body eases as the conversation flows with little to no effort. “I like your accent as well.”
“You’re in Australia. Everyone here has my accent. It’s nothing special.”
“It’s special to me.”
“You don’t sound like a typical American. I’ve only heard something similar to it once—my mate married an American girl from Nashville, and your accent reminds me of hers.”
“Nashville is only a few hours’ drive from where I grew up in Mississippi. But I live on the East Coast now, in Charleston.”
The moment Charleston leaves my mouth, I realize I’ve crossed a line. I’ve told him where I live—far more information than I should’ve shared with a client.
Great job, Magnolia. Way to stay professional.
Worry crosses my mind. What if he’s a weirdo? Or worse, some kind of stalker? My thoughts spin for a second before I push them away. No, he seems fine. Plus, he lives on the other side of the world. He’s not going to travel across the globe to stalk me.
“You know, I’m not sure what I’m even going to say when my match gets here. I mean, how do you start a conversation with someone when you can’t see them?”
A smirk tugs at my lips because this guy doesn’t even notice how naturally he’s been talking to me. He’s giving himself far too little credit. “We’re total strangers who can’t see each other, yet here we are, chatting like it’s second nature. Trust me, when you meet the one chosen for you, it’ll be even easier. You’ll have so much in common the conversation will flow without a hitch.”
“You’re really easy to talk to, but we’re discussing general things. I’m not sure I’d know what to say when it gets more personal.” He hesitates for a second. “Would you… maybe practice with me? You know, go over the kind of questions she might expect to discuss? Just to help me break the ice.”
Embrace new roles. Do whatever it takes to make clients feel comfortable. Gabby’s words play on repeat in my mind.
It’s our job to help them, after all. And if this will ease his nerves… “I’d be happy to help with a practice run. Let’s start with something simple. How old are you, Caesar?”
“I still can’t get over being called Julius Caesar.” His words come with a hint of amusement before softening into something more casual. “I’m thirty-two. How about you?”
Thirty-two. So close to my age. I wonder how someone so young can afford the elite services of Soul Sync.
“I just turned thirty.”
He lets out a small hmph. “I thought you’d be older”.
Feigning offense, with extra emphasis on each word, I say, “ You thought I’d be older? Why’s that?”
He lets out a quiet chuckle as if trying to cover it up. “You sound very wise and mature for thirty.”
“Let’s just say I’ve been through the school of hard knocks. Graduated with honors. Honestly, I could’ve taught a few classes there.”
Wounds turn into scars and scars make you tough.
“What about your family? Parents, siblings?” he asks.
There are too many branches on my family tree for me to keep track of, let alone explain.
“I’m an only child… and also not. It’s complicated. It would take a decade to explain, and even then, no one sane would understand.”
“That sounds like an interesting tale.” He doesn’t push for more, and for that, I’m grateful.
“I come from a big family. Five siblings. Our parents are still married.”
“Wow. You grew up with eight people in your household? That sounds… chaotic.” And maybe even lovely under the right circumstances.
“It’s extremely chaotic when four of the six kids are boys. Life at our house was never dull.”
I smile at that, imagining the lively chaos. “Well, you already know what I do for work, but what about you? Are you able to tell me or would it give away too much?”
“I’m in the hotel industry. Family business. I’ll spare you the dull details. Trust me, they’re boring.”
Considering he can afford Soul Sync’s services, I have no doubt he’s either a hotel heir or some kind of mogul.
Our conversation continues, easy and natural, like we didn’t just meet. And I catch myself laughing more than I expected. There’s something surprisingly comfortable about talking to him like this.
Our conversation flows effortlessly—more laughter, more shared stories. Time slips by, and I’m fairly certain I already know Julius Caesar better than I ever knew the last guy I dated. He’s completely ready to meet his match, and honestly, the lucky woman who matched with him is going to adore him.
Finally, Sophie pokes her head in again, this time giving me the signal that the female client has arrived.
“Well, looks like it’s time for me to go,” I say, rising to my feet and straightening my clothes. “Your Soul Sync match is here.”
“Oh,” he says, a hint of hesitation coloring his words. “I enjoyed talking to you, Charleston . Thanks for sticking around and helping calm my nerves.”
“I enjoyed our talk too.”
“Thanks for the practice run. And hey, maybe I’ll bump into you again,” he says with a touch of humor.
It’s unlikely, considering we don’t know each other’s names or what the other looks like. “Good luck with your match, Caesar. I’m sure it’ll go well,” I say, offering a final smile he can’t see. Then, without looking back, I slip quietly out of the suite.
Just as I’m about to pull the door shut, his voice echoes behind me, “If you bump into Cleopatra out there, let her know Caesar is keeping the empire in order in here.”
I bite down on my laughter, rolling my eyes as I walk down the hallway. Well, at least he has a sense of humor about all this.
Oh, Cleopatra, you’re in for a real treat with this one.