Chapter 8
DANE
The conference room felt like it was shrinking in on me.
It wasn’t, objectively speaking. Conference Room B was one of our larger spaces, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and a table that could comfortably seat twelve.
But with Heidi and three members of her marketing team spread out with laptops and tablets and the pitcher of water and assortment of pastries on the table, the room felt claustrophobic.
I’d asked Keith to attend this meeting as a courtesy. He was CFO, and he needed to be kept in the loop on any major marketing expenditures. He sat to my right, already looking bored, scrolling through something on his phone.
“So,” Heidi said, pulling up a slide on the main screen. “As you know, the Valentine’s Day campaign rollout begins next week.”
I nodded once. We’d been over this. Multiple times.
The campaign was solid, with social media pushes featuring our matchmakers, testimonials from successful couples, wedding footage, and behind-the-scenes content showing how Cupid’s Arrow was the only major dating platform that didn’t rely solely on AI for matching.
We had actual humans making actual connections, and that was our competitive advantage.
Everyone knew that, especially the guy that came up with the idea. Me.
“The commercial will air on Valentine’s Day itself,” Heidi continued, advancing to the next slide. “We’ve secured prime-time spots on three major networks, plus streaming placement, plus a coordinated social media push.”
“Heidi.” I checked my watch. “I’ve approved all of this already. What exactly am I doing here?”
She smiled in a way that immediately made me suspicious. “I wanted to show you something. But we’re waiting for a couple more people.”
The conference room door opened.
Ina walked in first, looking uncertain. She was wearing a purple sweater and dark pants, her hair in that complicated twist thing she’d been doing lately. Her eyes briefly met mine. I felt my spine straighten involuntarily.
I forced myself to look away. I was not going to notice the way that sweater hugged her perfect breasts. I was not going to think about the way she looked in that dress on Friday with her hair cascading down her back and her lips painted so kissably red.
Lucas followed her in, looking genuinely confused. “Why am I being held hostage by the marketing department?” He glanced around the room. “Is this an intervention? Because I maintain that my holiday party budgets are reasonable and necessary for morale.”
I arched an eyebrow at Heidi, who was practically vibrating with barely contained excitement. “Care to explain?”
“Please, everyone listen.” Heidi gestured to the empty chairs.
Ina took a seat directly across from me. I made the mistake of giving her a onceover, just a quick assessment to make sure she was okay. She looked right back at me.
Something flickered across her face that I couldn’t quite read. Then she looked away, focusing all her attention on Heidi.
“Alright,” Heidi said, nodding to one of her associates. “Pull up the rough cut.”
The screen flickered, and then I was watching myself on camera. The commercial.
It opened on me sitting in that ridiculous chair, looking directly at the camera with what I hoped was confident authority and not the irritation I felt about being roped into doing the stupid thing.
I listened to myself repeat the lines and then Ina entered the frame.
The camera loved her. That was the first thing I noticed. The way the light caught her hair, the natural grace in her movement despite the heels. She looked at me like I was the only person in the world.
I watched myself extend my hand. Watched her take it. Watched the moment our fingers touched and something passed between us that the camera had captured forever.
My hand had gone to the small of her back without conscious thought, and on camera, it looked possessive. Protective. Real.
The thirty second commercial felt like three hours. It was rough and still needed editing, but I saw what they all saw.
We worked together on camera. We looked like a couple in love.
The physical side of the commercial looked so damn natural I had to bite back the feeling of moving toward her in real life.
I wanted to shield her from the public scrutiny she was suddenly under.
My eyes moved back to the paused image of me staring up at her while she grinned and looked at the camera.
It looked so fucking real. And honestly, it had felt natural in the moment.
I wasn’t acting when I pulled her to me.
When I gazed up at her like a lovesick fool, that wasn’t fake.
I wasn’t an actor. I didn’t know how to fake anything.
And that was bad.
The conference room was silent. Across from me, Ina was staring at the table, her cheeks slightly pink.
“Turn it off,” I said gruffly. “And explain what exactly you want with not only me, but my executive assistant and my director of public relations.”
Heidi nodded to her associate, who closed the video player, then turned to face me with the kind of confidence that came from someone who thought they had a winning hand.
She’d make a horrible poker player.
“My team ran the numbers over the weekend,” she began, pulling up a new slide.
“Dane, you’re currently trending on three different social media platforms. Since you were named Most Eligible Bachelor, mentions of you have increased by 340%.
Searches for Cupid’s Arrow are up 67%. Our app downloads are up 23% just from the ambient publicity. ”
She clicked to the next slide, a graph showing search trends and social media engagement.
“The original plan was to use the commercial to position you as having found love through Cupid’s Arrow. That plays into your reputation. The man who helps everyone else find love finally finds it himself.”
“I’m aware of the plan,” I said tightly. “I approved it.”
“Right. But that was before we saw this.” She gestured at the now-blank screen. “That commercial isn’t just good, Dane. It’s phenomenal. The chemistry between you and Ina is off the charts. Our test audience scores are through the roof. People are going to be talking about this.”
I felt a muscle tick in my jaw. “Get to the point.”
“The point is, why stop at the commercial?” Heidi leaned forward and I suddenly had the image of a supervillain in a Disney movie scheming. “Why not extend the narrative? Build up to the Valentine’s Day release with a coordinated PR campaign that drums up public interest in your personal life?”
“No,” I said immediately.
“It doesn’t have to be deep,” Heidi continued, completely ignoring my refusal.
“Just a few strategic public appearances. You and Ina grabbing coffee. Having dinner. Being photographed together. Lucas’s PR team can coordinate the ‘paparazzi’ shots and we leak them strategically leading up to the commercial release.
By the time Valentine’s Day hits, everyone is already invested in the story. ”
Lucas, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly sat up straighter. “Actually, that could work. Dane’s personal life is famously private, but if we create a narrative around him finally letting someone in, it would generate massive buzz.”
I turned to look at him, feeling betrayed. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious about good PR,” Lucas said with a shrug. “And this is good PR. Your private life is the one thing people can’t get access to. This would be like giving them a peek behind the curtain. Humanizing you.”
“I don’t need to be humanized. I am a fucking human.”
“You became a celebrity the moment you were named Most Eligible Bachelor,” Heidi countered. “And like it or not, you’re the face of this company. People want to know about you. So we give them something to know. Something we control, something that serves our narrative.”
Keith was nodding along, which made my blood pressure spike. “From a business perspective, it makes sense. If we can generate this kind of organic interest leading into our Valentine’s campaign, we could be looking at serious investor attention.”
“My personal life is not for sale,” I said, each word deliberate.
“It’s not your actual personal life,” Heidi argued. “It’s a controlled PR campaign. A performance. Ina already agreed to be in the commercial. This is just an extension of that. A few dates, a few photos, build the story.”
I looked at Ina, who was still studying the table like it held the secrets of the universe.
She hadn’t said a word since sitting down.
I could only imagine what was going through her head.
Was she already thinking about the lawsuit she would bring against me for sexual harassment?
If I were in her shoes, I would be. Clearly, PR and Marketing had not consulted Legal.
“This is perfect,” Heidi was saying, advancing to another slide. “Ina is exactly the kind of woman people wouldn’t expect you to be with. No offense,” she added quickly, glancing at Ina. “I just mean she’s not famous or anything.”
I felt something hot and violent flash through my chest. Wouldn’t expect you to be with. As if Ina wasn’t good enough. As if she was somehow beneath me.
I kept my expression neutral through sheer force of will.
“She’s girl-next-door beautiful,” Heidi continued, completely oblivious to the fact that I was imagining firing her on the spot. “Relatable. Approachable. The kind of woman that makes the fantasy feel achievable for our user base. And the genuine chemistry between you two sells it.”
“There’s one small problem,” Ina said quietly, speaking for the first time since the meeting started.
Everyone turned to look at her.
She took a breath, still not meeting my eyes. “I don’t have a Cupid’s Arrow account. I didn’t meet the minimum yearly income requirement.”
The room went silent.
I felt my hand slowly curl into a fist under the table.
“You don’t have an account?” Heidi repeated, sounding genuinely shocked.
“No. I applied when I first got the job, but I got rejected. The app requires users to have an income I don’t have.
I don’t make anywhere near that.” Ina’s voice was matter of fact, but I could hear the slight edge underneath.
“So the whole narrative about us meeting on Cupid’s Arrow doesn’t really work. ”
Lucas made a dismissive sound. “We can just create a fake profile retroactively. No one needs to know the actual details.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling a headache building behind my eyes.
This entire situation was a disaster.
Ina, the woman who made my life run smoothly, had been rejected by my own company’s algorithm because we’d set income requirements that I’d personally approved.
And now Heidi wanted to parade her around as my fake girlfriend to boost our Valentine’s Day sales numbers.
“Everybody out,” I said.
Heidi blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Out. Now. This meeting is over.”
“But we haven’t discussed the details.”
“Out.”
My tone left no room for argument. Heidi’s marketing team scrambled to pack up their materials, shooting nervous glances in my direction. Lucas gave me a long look that said he had questions we’d be talking about later, then followed everyone else toward the door.
Ina started to stand.
I reached out and put my hand on the table in front of her. “Not you.”
She froze and looked at me with shock and maybe apprehension.
The door closed behind Lucas with a soft click, and suddenly we were alone in the conference room.