Page 2 of Love’s a Script (Hearts Collide #1)
Chapter Two
The interview-based public radio program, according to their bio, provided audiences with expert perspectives and commentary on the day’s important stories.
It was highbrow fare compared to what Mary listened to on her commutes, which as recently as yesterday saw DJ Spice updating listeners on his vape-quitting journey before he introduced a techno remix of a Hozier ballad.
There was a click on the line at last, and Mary could now hear one of the hosts of All Intents and Purposes , Chesa Salvador, speaking in the measured cadence of a broadcast journalist. “Late last week,” Chesa began, “Mayor Kevin Laurie announced his engagement to Jennifer Acres, a chartered accountant he met through a local matchmaking service, Everlasting Connection. Out of respect and privacy for the couple, Everlasting Connection has declined to comment on the union.”
Chesa welcomed Mary to the show and posed a set of simple questions that allowed Mary to introduce herself and settle into the rhythm of the interview.
“I want to start off this discussion with your read of the public’s response to the mayor’s engagement,” Chesa said. “A lot has been made of him seeking out a matchmaker since he’s been one of the city’s most eligible bachelors and presumably didn’t need such a service.”
“Matchmaking doesn’t have to be someone’s last-ditch effort,” Mary said. “And it’s not only for people who have a hard time dating for whatever reason. It’s a great option for anyone who values their time and wants to quickly cut through the noise.”
The other host, Ruben Byers, entered the conversation, and he spoke with a warm, relaxed lilt as if they sat in a living room with dim yellow lighting.
“Speaking of dating options,” he said, “I’m sure you’re aware of reports concerning the declining popularity of dating apps among young people as well as what many economists theorize are diminishing physical spaces to meet new people.
Do you believe professional matchmaking could be the solution for this problem? ”
“For sure,” Mary said. “We’ve seen more and more people in their twenties come through our doors in the last few years.
And I’d like to add that matchmaking isn’t new.
Cassidy Fowler, the CEO of my agency, is a third-generation matchmaker.
It’s an old practice that many cultures around the world still use.
In the past it might’ve been the village elder, and today it’s someone like me in a downtown high-rise. ”
“Except, in the past, Granny wasn’t charging someone upward of a half a year’s rent to match them with the town cobbler,” Ruben said pointedly, and Mary’s hand stilled where it had been doodling shapes on her note’s margins.
“Yes, it is a premium service,” she said, taking care to add extra brightness to her voice. “Clients pay for the convenience and curation.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“Curation. What an interesting word to use when referring to people.” He moved on to the next question while Mary was floundering for a response.
“There’s also a certain sentiment that Mayor Laurie’s engagement comes at a convenient time, that it’s a distraction from the scandal that has plagued his city council’s office for nearly a month now. Do you agree?”
“I-I can’t speak to that.”
“All right, can you speak to the artifice inherent to matchmaking?”
Mary frowned. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”
“I mean your agency constructs these romantic scenarios, these dates, and even provides outlines on how to optimize the chances of falling in love. I know you’re in the mix, but you must see there’s an artificiality baked into the entire process.”
“No, I don’t see that,” she said, irritation spilling into her tone. “We give guidance and support because dating can be hard, and it takes energy to decide what to do and how to impress. We take care of that so the best version of you gets to shine.”
“Huh. Then do you think the orchestrated dates work in a similar way that music in ads or movies do?” he asked. “Research has long suggested film scores, for instance, can manipulate a viewer into feeling certain emotions, when without that input, they might not have.”
Mary shifted to the edge of her seat, casting her notes aside.
“This isn’t a lifetime subscription, okay?
” she said sharply. “When the hot air balloon lands and the string quartet leaves, all that’s left is the couple.
They have to make it work. We have a 92 percent success rate, which shows the love people find through our service is real.
” She could hear herself getting louder.
“I suspect you’ve been unlucky in the relationship department, Mr. Byers.
If you have, I’m sorry about that, but your cynicism is misplaced.
I would encourage you to seek out a matchmaker and see for yourself. One within your budget, of course.”
Mary’s face was hot against the receiver and a slight tremor burdened her hand, but soon her heartbeat began to settle. It was then she realized the silence on the other line. She waited. “Hello?” Listened. A dial tone was the eventual and only response.
* * *
Mary knew the apologetic message she sent her boss immediately following the interview would remain in purgatory until the next day, but it didn’t stop her from checking for a response all evening or waking up in the middle of the night because she thought her phone had chimed.
Cassidy’s reply came instead in the morning while Mary was making breakfast. We’ll chat when I get back , her boss wrote in her email.
Tone couldn’t be accurately discerned from those six static words, but left to her psychological tendencies, Mary spun a scenario where not only was she out of the running for cruise lead but also at risk of termination once her boss returned from her trip.
The interview was hardly a topic of discussion at work, and no one was as concerned as Mary was about the potential fallout. She clung to their nonchalance, trying her best to make it her own, until partway through the day, she learned of two comments that had appeared on the agency’s review page.
“They’re bogus. Clearly trolls,” Eden said. She’d come to Mary’s office to bear the news dressed, appropriately enough, in all black.
“What did they write exactly?” Mary asked.
Eden’s steady eye contact strayed, and Mary changed her mind, saying, “Actually, don’t read them. Just give me an idea.”
“Okay. One’s calling you shrill, and the other is calling you bitchy.”
The air seemed to congeal in Mary’s lungs, turning her breathing shallow.
Those reviews—which Cassidy and future clients would inevitably read—made her sound like someone who caused scenes in public and stiffed on tips.
Mary didn’t ruffle feathers. Ever. She was nice, friendly, sweet.
“A pleasure to have in class” had been a staple comment on her grade school report cards.
“You okay?” Eden asked.
“Yes!” Mary replied and even managed to smile. “As you said, trolls. But thanks for letting me know.”
Eden nodded and moved to exit. At the door, she paused. “If you ask me,” she said, “you did nothing wrong. He’s the one who went off script.”