Chapter 14
DANE
The morning news interview was scheduled for six-thirty, which meant I’d been awake since four-thirty. I was running on approximately three hours of sleep and enough coffee to fuel a small aircraft.
The studio was overheated and too bright.
My tie was too tight. My shirt felt scratchy against my skin.
The suit wasn’t the problem. I just hated interviews like this that felt like fluff.
I was more than happy to talk about my app, but my personal life had never been a topic I spoke about in public.
I would rather walk across broken glass with no shoes.
But this whole fake-dating thing with Ina hinged on me pretending I had opened up more, like the power of love had transformed me. It was nonsense but it was the story we were selling.
The interviewer, Molly Oyama, was a woman in her forties with impossibly white teeth and red lipstick that would make a bull go mad.
“So, Dane, there have been some photos circulating online. You and a mystery woman. Care to comment? Our viewers are dying to know if Cupid’s Arrow has finally hit the eternal bachelor’s heart. ”
Talking about my personal like was the sole reason for me doing this interview, but the question still annoyed the ever-loving shit out of me. I tried not to hold it against the woman. She was just doing her job.
Plus, I appreciated she had included my app’s branding in the question. Molly was acting like a true professional and I needed to do the same.
I gave her the smile Lucas and I had practiced—friendly but reserved, open but not too open. According to Lucas, my first attempts at smiling on cue looked like I had swallowed a box of thumbtacks and they were on their way out.
So I practiced my fake smile. It still felt weird and stiff and completely unnatural.
“Molly, you know I live a very private life,” I said, keeping my tone measured.
“And that’s actually the whole point of Cupid’s Arrow.
We bring together hardworking professionals who value their privacy and want meaningful relationships without the circus of public dating. Our users appreciate discretion.”
“But you’re not exactly keeping it private if you’re being photographed at restaurants.” She smiled at the camera. “It seems to me you’re ready to step into the public eye.”
“I’m a person who exists in the world. Sometimes that means being seen in public spaces. But my personal life remains personal.” I leaned forward slightly, steering the conversation where I wanted it. “What I’m excited to talk about is our Valentine’s Day campaign.”
“Of course, it’s very exciting, but surely you can give us something,” she said, still smiling with those terrifying teeth. “Is it serious? How did you meet?”
Lucas had prepared me for this. The dance. The deflection. The art of answering without actually saying anything.
“I can tell you that Cupid’s Arrow works,” I said. “Even for people like me. The algorithm is sound, the matchmakers are exceptional, and when you’re open to the possibility of connection…” I let the sentence trail off, deliberately being ambiguous.
The interviewer ate it up. She practically glowed. “So you are seeing someone!”
“I’m saying that Cupid’s Arrow delivers on its promises.”
I made it through the rest of the interview as planned, deflecting the rest of Molly’s personal questions and redirecting to business talking points.
I got to the office just after eight and went straight to Norma’s office. She was already at her desk, coffee in hand, looking at me with an expression that immediately told me something was wrong.
“Ina called out sick,” she said before I could ask. “I spoke to her about an hour ago. She sounds awful. I told her to stay home for at least two days, maybe three. We do not need what she’s got running through here. Not with Valentine’s around the corner. I can get you a temp.”
I nodded. “Did she say if she needed anything?”
Norma gave me a knowing look. “You sound like you’re worried about her.”
“Of course,” I said with a shrug.
“I offered to have groceries delivered. She said she was fine.” Norma smiled. “I suppose you could take her something warm to eat, if you’re feeling like being a good boyfriend.”
I growled in annoyance. “Don’t start with that.”
I turned to leave but Norma called after me. “Women like it when you show you care!”
I went to my office and stared at my calendar, ready to focus on work. Without Ina wrangling me, I wasn’t sure I could get to it all. Wall-to-wall meetings. Conference calls. A lunch with potential investors that I absolutely could not cancel.
I made it until ten-thirty before I started rearranging my schedule.
“Something’s come up,” I told the temp who was covering for Ina. She had temped for me before. She looked terrified every time I spoke to her. “Cancel everything after eleven. Push the investor lunch to next week.”
She nodded. “Will do.”
“Tell them something urgent came up with the Valentine’s campaign. They’ll understand.”
At eleven-fifteen, I was standing in the deli I had seen Ina in. I ordered a large chicken soup and tried not to think too hard about what I was doing. Norma’s idea hadn’t been a bad one. And I knew Ina had bought this exact soup for her sick roommate.
Ten minutes later, I was standing outside Ina’s building, holding the soup and second-guessing every decision that had led me to this moment.
Was this a boss move or fake boyfriend move? Was I crossing a line? Did it matter?
I could just leave it on the stoop. Text her that it was there. Let her come down when she felt up to it. But I quickly discarded the idea. Ina shouldn’t eat any food left unattended on the street, and she definitely didn’t need to be walking down five flights of stairs while sick.
I pressed the buzzer for her apartment. There was a long pause, then a crackling sound. Then I heard more of a grunt than actual words.
“It’s Dane,” I said.
I should have texted her before I just showed up. If I was sick and someone knocked on my door unannounced, I would thrown something at them. But it was too late to leave now. The only way forward was through.
The door buzzed and unlocked. Relief flooded through me and I hurried inside before she changed her mind. I climbed the five flights of stairs, cursing this godforsaken walkup. I was tempted to have a damn elevator installed on my own dime.
I knocked on her door. Shuffling sounds from inside. A thump. A muffled curse.
The door opened to reveal Ina wrapped in a blanket, her hair in a messy bun, her face pale, and her eyes glazed in that particular way that meant she was absolutely miserable.
Her eyes got big and she slammed the door in my face. I heard more cursing, clearer now. Then the door opened again.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought you were the Gatorade delivery. You caught me by surprise.”
Her voice was an octave lower than normal and I found it sexy as hell. She could have read the phonebook to me and I would have been rock hard and ready the whole time. Then I felt like a jerk for thinking about sleeping with her when she was in such a vulnerable state.
I held up the soup. “I brought you a present.”
She stared at the soup like it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, then stepped back to let me pass. I knew I was risking getting sick by walking in there but I didn’t care.
The apartment looked different than it had a few days ago. The couch was covered in blankets and tissues. There were medicine bottles on the coffee table. A humidifier was running in the corner, making the air warm and slightly damp.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ina said, shuffling toward the couch and collapsing into what was clearly a carefully constructed nest. “I’m disgusting and contagious and you’re going to get whatever plague I have.”
“I don’t get sick.”
“Everyone says that and then they wake up half-dead.” More coughing.
I went to her small kitchen, found a bowl, and poured some soup into it. It was still steaming hot, exactly how I’d requested. I brought it to her along with a spoon and set both on the coffee table.
“Eat up,” I said.
She looked at me with those fever-bright eyes. “Are you always this bossy?”
I gave her a dry look. “I am your boss.”
Ina shrugged and picked up the bowl. “You bring all your employees soup when they’re sick?”
I didn’t answer.
With shaking hands, she took a careful sip, then closed her eyes. “God, this is so good. How is this so good?”
“Those deli guys are annoying but they make damn fine food.” I sighed. “Artists are always difficult.”
She took another sip. “You went back there for me?”
“The soup cured your roommate. Figured it might work for you too.”
She smiled. Her puffy eyes and red nose did nothing to dim the beauty of that smile. I would buy Ina gallons of soup if it made her look at me like that.
I sat down in the chair across from her, trying not to stare.
“I’m sorry I’m not at work,” she said between sips, her voice a smoky baritone. “I know there is so much to do with the Valentine’s campaign.”
“We’re fine. Norma’s handling it. Heidi is in her element. This is her show this time of year anyway. The campaign has been planned for months. All we need to do is execute, and she doesn’t need either of us for that.”
“Still. I should be there.”
“You should be here,” I countered. “Resting so you don’t end up with bronchitis like your roommate did.”
She was quiet for a moment, just drinking soup. “Have you ever actually used Cupid’s Arrow? Like, made a profile?”
The question caught me off guard. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I never saw the point in it,” I said honestly. “Not for myself, anyway.”
“But you built the company. You’ve seen it work for people.”
I nodded. “I’ve seen the algorithm work.
I’ve seen the matchmakers do their jobs well.
I’ve seen people find companionship and partnership and all the things we promise.
But the kind of love we sell? The overwhelming, all-consuming, changes-your-life kind of love?
I’m not sure that’s real. Or if it is real, I’m not sure it’s meant for people like me. ”
I felt her looking at me, and when I met her eyes, there was something in them I couldn’t quite name.
“Is that because you think no one’s ever going to understand your sense of humor?” she asked softly. “Or enjoy your grouchy side? Because right now this is pretty enjoyable. Even with the plague.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d spent my entire adult life convinced that the kind of connection other people seemed to find so easily just wasn’t available to me.
I was too difficult, too private, and too fundamentally incompatible with the kind of vulnerability that real relationships required.
I didn’t know how to drop my guard and allow myself to be vulnerable.
But sitting here in Ina’s apartment, watching her drink soup, created a kind of longing I had never experienced before. Maybe I was running a fever too. Maybe I was delusional from lack of sleep and too much coffee.
The buzzer rang, cutting through my thoughts.
“That’s probably the Gatorade and cough drops,” Ina said, starting to get up.
“I’ll get it.” I stood and went to the intercom, confirmed it was a delivery, and went downstairs to meet the delivery guy.
When I came back up with a bag full of cold medicine and electrolyte drinks, Ina was fast asleep on the couch, the empty soup bowl still in her lap.
I took the bowl carefully, set it in the sink, and draped another blanket over her. Then I left the medicine and Gatorade on the coffee table where she’d see them when she woke up, along with a note on a Post-it I found in the kitchen. Take the medicine. Drink the Gatorade. Rest.
I let myself out quietly and stood in the hallway for a moment. Would it be weird if I stayed and watched her sleep?
Definitely.
I have to remind myself I’m her boss. I’m not actually dating her, no matter how easy it is to forget this is fake.
I went back to the office before I ended up doing something stupid.
Lucas intercepted me the moment I stepped off the elevator. He was wearing his wings again with his basket of Valentine’s gifts in hand.
“There you are! I’ve been trying to reach you. Where were you?” He stopped, studying my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You have that face.”
“Yes, I was born with it.”
He scowled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Ina’s sick. I checked on her. She’s fine.”
“You checked on her?”
“She’s my assistant. I need her at work.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” He was grinning now, and I wanted to throw something at him. “Your gift is on your desk.”
“Did Ina get one?” I asked. “Maybe I can hold on to it for her.”
Lucas’s grin faded. “Actually, no. I couldn’t find her gift anywhere. Should I try and find something for her?”
Motherfucking Keith.
“I’ll handle it,” I said, already on the move.