Page 40 of Lovetown, USA
Lane
I feel like Cinderella.
The moment we step out of the limousine in front of City Hall, it feels like a dream. Like—I hate to say it—a fairy tale.
Flashbulbs go off in a staccato rhythm as Trey takes my hand, guiding me onto the red carpet that stretches across the marble steps of city hall. Cameras click, voices call out, people cheer, and it feels more like Hollywood than a mid-sized town in the panhandle of Florida.
Trey’s hand rests warm and steady on the small of my back as we pose for photos.
He smiles with practiced ease, that charming, confident grin that makes everyone swoon.
I smile, too, though mine wavers. I’m caught between the curated beauty of the evening and the gnawing awareness of what I now know to be true about this town.
Inside, the hall’s cavernous lobby has been transformed into a ballroom draped in elegance.
Gold and cream fabric cascades from the ceiling in silken waterfalls, lit by thousands of twinkling fairy lights.
Crystal chandeliers glow overhead, and round tables are dressed in blush linens, topped with towering arrangements of roses, orchids, and peonies.
Ice sculptures flank the buffet tables, shaped like Cupid, of course. What else?
There’s a string quartet and a DJ, but he’s just getting set up. I’m sure the real party will pop off later in the evening. Waiters in crisp black vests move like shadows, balancing silver trays of champagne flutes and delicate hors d’oeuvres.
Happy couples float across the dance floor, hands entwined, faces glowing. The whole place hums with joy, and for a moment, a brief one, I feel myself faltering. The town isn’t hurting anyone. If anything, it’s bringing people together who may otherwise have never crossed paths.
I don’t know what to do.
Trey pulls me close. “You look so beautiful.”
“You told me,” I say with a grin.
“I know, but I can’t say it enough.”
We mingle, we laugh, we dance, we nibble. It’s all joy and fun and love. It’s tempting to call it magic, because it certainly feels that way. Something is in the air, and it’s not something I’ve ever felt anywhere else. That has to mean something.
I spot Mayor Daphne across the room.
She’s radiant tonight, as always, wrapped in a gown of emerald silk that clings to her curves like it was painted on. A dramatic train follows behind her and her perfect makeup and expert updo. She looks every inch the queen of this kingdom she’s built.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Trey, leaving him in the hands of Bryce and Sanaa, couple friends of his.
I approach her honor with a neutral expression, which pales in comparison with her happy welcoming face.
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
Her smile never wavers as she excuses herself, leaving her husband and two other men behind. She leads me out into a private hallway where we can hear ourselves think. The music muffles to a distant hum.
I take a deep breath and rip the bandaid off. “I know what’s going on, Daphne.”
The mask slips, and her jaw tightens. “And what would that be?”
“The fact that you sold this town to the highest bidder.”
She blinks, but says nothing.
“I know about the beta testing. The AI matchmaking. The contracts your husband signed as a so-called consultant.”
She exhales, long and slow, frustration flickering in her eyes.
“Was it all about the money?” My voice drops, shaking with disbelief. “It just seems so shady and underhanded.”
She still says nothing.
I lean closer, anger burning hotter now. “It’s not real love when it’s manufactured like this. It’s not real without consent.”
It would be a genius idea if it wasn’t so deceitful.
I figured it out when I saw who owned all those rental homes. Affinity, Inc., a subsidiary of Affinity AI, a matchmaking startup that partnered with Daphne’s husband’s company.
The goal?
Beta test an AI program that matches residents with their ideal partner based on personal, private data they had no idea was being sold by their own mayor.
All those meet-cutes and invite-only events were carefully planned to bring people together based on their shared interests.
But it didn’t stop there. There was fucking private medical information in the data packs Cognilynx sold to Affinity.
Matching people with similar illnesses, for fuck’s sake.
Ring camera footage. Audio recordings from Alexa.
Just maximum levels of intrusion and invasiveness. And the residents were none the wiser.
They have plans to expand all over the US, and eventually, to take this global.
“Why?” I ask again. “Why did you do it?”
Her hand flicks, dismissive as ever, and her voice is sharp. “Look around you, Lane. Look at the couples. Look how happy they are. Are you really gonna quibble over how they got there?”
“Yeah.” My heart thuds in my chest. “I am. Because love can’t be built on deceit. Maybe the matches are perfect, maybe they’re not, but you have no right to play Cupid. The deceit makes it wrong.”
We stand there, locked in a battle of wills, neither of us yielding. Her eyes blaze, while mine hold steady. Finally, she exhales.
“So you’re writing it up, then?”
“I’ve been back and forth on it, to be quite honest.”
She nods. “Well, hey, do what you gotta do.”
“That’s it?”
“I have nothing else to say on the matter.”
She turns away, taking a few steps before she turns back, her smile painted back on.
“Actually, there is one thing. Something I think you should know.”