Page 11 of The Romance Rivalry

Five workplace romance

Fit check: stretched-out old yoga pants with a hole in the left knee. Oversize church camp T-shirt. Hair pulled back with

a headband. No makeup—except a little mascara because I still might pass someone on the way to the library.

A day that I have been completely dreading has finally come. I have to meet Aiden at the library to discuss our class project.

Our partnered project.

After first questioning the professor’s choice to make a semester-long assignment, one that relies on another individual as much as yourself, and then wondering how the universe could be so cruel to put Aiden Jeon on my campus, in my class, and suddenly partnered with me, I finally set about trying to do anything to get out of it. I looked around the room, but there was no one partnerless. I asked the team in front of us if they’d consider trading, but they politely shook their heads and declined. I then told Aiden I’d rather fail the class than work with him, and he just laughed... he laughed ... and then grabbed my phone, programmed his number into it, and called himself so he’d have my number, too... all without

my permission. He clearly doesn’t take consent seriously. And that was just the first day.

After having had multiple interactions with him over the course of the past week, none of which could even possibly be construed

as friendly, I’m stuck in an impossible situation. So, after receiving the text to meet him at the library—no, he didn’t ask

me... he told me—I just responded with a thumbs-up and counted down the hours till my impending doom.

The time has come.

I’ve decided to put in as little effort as possible. That includes in how I present myself. Although even choosing an “I don’t

care about you at all” outfit took an embarrassingly long amount of time.

The AC hits me the moment I open the door to the school’s Central Library. My choice would have been one of the smaller libraries,

but Aiden insisted the vibe at Central was perfect. It’s large and overcrowded. Perfect for an attention-seeker like him.

Whatever.

I find him exactly where he said he’d be, on the second floor near the Poetry section. I don’t read poetry. I can’t participate in a conversation about poems or contribute anything about the poets and what they mean by their purple prose and rhyme. My heart picks up the pace and a familiar tingling sensation creeps up the back of my neck as if they’re watching me—the poets, or maybe just the scholars of the poets—waiting to tell me I can’t sit here, that I don’t belong.

But then I spot Aiden’s long neck and floppy hair, sitting alone at a long table of workstations, head down in a book. And

the sight is oddly comforting.

He raises his head as if sensing my presence and the right side of his mouth lifts a tiny bit in an all-too-confident grin.

My cheeks heat immediately. Did someone suddenly shut off the AC in this place?

“Hey, you made it,” he says. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I told you I’d be here.” Of course Aiden has to make me feel like I’m unreliable, or hard to deal with, or

in the wrong, or like I don’t know what I’m talking about.

“Uh, you didn’t text back so...”

“I sent you a thumbs-up.”

He looks down at his phone and his brow furrows a bit. “I don’t see that message,” he says, raising his eyes back up to mine.

“I didn’t send the emoji, I sent you a reaction to your message.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I sometimes have trouble reading stuff like that.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He lifts a shoulder, shrugging off my question.

“You know, you don’t always have to lead with the teeth,” he says.

It’s a phrase I’m not familiar with, but I can guess what he’s saying. I would normally say sorry, like I always do no matter

what someone’s confronted me with. But I’m feeling just defensive and stubborn enough to stop myself.

“Whatever. Let’s get to work,” I say hurriedly. I take the seat across from Aiden at the very large library desk. There is

a divider that runs along the center of the long wooden table. After I take out my laptop, my notebook, and a pen, I finally

look up to see Aiden standing, looking down at me.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I look down at my stuff, then to my left, then my right, wondering what I’m missing. “Uh, getting my stuff out?”

“Yeah, but how are we gonna discuss our project if you sit there, across from me, with this partition between us?”

“Where else am I gonna sit?”

It’s his turn to look to his left and then to his right. There are empty seats on either side of him. And, as I suddenly notice,

no partitions on the sides of each workstation.

I sit there wondering what to do next. But apparently this takes too long for the impatient Aiden Jeon, who already has his

stuff all stacked in his arms. He places it down at the spot next to me, plopping himself into the chair.

“What is all that?” I ask.

“Just some books. I grabbed a bunch in case we need them.”

“But we haven’t even discussed the project, the scope, what our focus will be, or basically anything about it,” I say. I don’t

know if I’m more upset that he took the liberty of choosing titles without my input or that I didn’t think to get the head

start myself and choose some books for us. “Did you just assume I wouldn’t have an opinion on which titles we’d focus on?”

He has the decency to look slightly embarrassed by this at least. He swallows and my eyes track his Adam’s apple. Prominent.

Not that I find that incredibly attractive at all.

“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, to be honest. It’s just, books bring me comfort. And I like having

them around, I guess. Carrying them from place to place. It sounds weird, but I got here, in this huge library, and suddenly

felt very small. And so I started going up and down the fiction rows and grabbing familiar titles.”

Well, that sounds relatable. I clasp my hands together on the table and force them to stay there instead of reaching up to

my heart. I will not be that person, even though my insides squeeze at his confession. Because I get it. I understand that

feeling exactly.

“And I’d never assume you wouldn’t have an opinion,” he adds, his mouth scrunching to the side as he tries to hold back his

smile.

“Oh, well, yeah, sorry to snap at you. I’m trying to get my bearings”—I sweep my hand at all the space and air and life in front of me—“with all this.” I should explain what I mean. How college is already overwhelming. How my classes are harder and maybe not as fun as I’d hoped early on. And how I’m trying to go through with The Plan, requiring me to put myself out there to find a boyfriend for reasons I fear would make most people laugh at me but that I suspect, just maybe, Aiden might relate to. But the words don’t come out. And I barely know Aiden at all, not to mention that in my mind, I’ve already made him out to be my enemy... my nemesis. He could use any weakness against me online.

I sneak a peek at Aiden. He’s nodding, head slightly tilted, as if seeing something in me he’s fascinated by.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” he says. And that’s it. No jokes, no disagreeing, no debate.

I don’t have the time, and this is not the space for me to figure out how I feel about this. This small interaction that seems

to carry more weight than it should. I tuck it all into the back of my head to obsess about later tonight. I open my laptop,

log in, and connect to the Wi-Fi.

Aiden already has the project syllabus open and I notice he has some lines of it highlighted. I, on the other hand, haven’t

looked at it once since it was sent to us after day one of class last week.

“So I was looking over the assignment and got really excited. This is totally right up our alley.” Just as expected. The man is trying to steamroll me. “I mean, I assume you agree that we should focus on romance?” He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for confirmation. Fine, I can admit that he’s hit the mark. Of course I want to focus on romance. I mean, no, I didn’t even read over the assignment, so I’m not quite sure what we need to do, but if it’s about books, romance is all I’m interested in.

“I figure we can decide what category or trope as we discuss today. But I’m glad we’re on the same page. I do think the professor

was giving us a hint in class that maybe he wants us to give equal time and focus to the classics. But we have so much to

work with. I mean, my first choice would be Austen, but I’m curious what you’re thinking. Too obvious a selection?”

I’ve never read an Austen book. I don’t want to admit that to Aiden, though. I don’t admit it to anyone in Romancelandia.

I’d be ostracized. But I just don’t... understand her books. So I do the thing that I always do when I’m feeling overwhelmed

or out of my league. I nod. Because I’m not quite prepared with an argument to disagree.

“Are you just nodding because you think this is what I want and don’t want to disagree?” Aiden asks.

As if.

“Honestly, I’m sorry, but this first week has been really crazy so I haven’t had a chance yet to look over the assignment or come up with any ideas. If we want to get the best grade possible, I think we should focus on things we know well and that fit what the class is about, the path of least resistance. Something that we could do with our eyes closed. Contemporary literature”—I hold up my right hand and then raise my left as the other side of the scale—“contemporary romance novel.”

Aiden turns his laptop screen to face me and points to the text as he recites the highlighted parts from memory. “‘Compare

two pieces of literature and present the similarities of story that transcend perceived differences, deep diving into character

arc ( The Hero’s Journey ; reference reading list), the timelessness of tropes, and the context and impact of setting.’ I don’t think it makes a compelling

presentation to just compare two contemporary romance novels.” He drags his finger down to the bottom of the screen without

even looking... yet lands exactly at the spot he’s highlighted in green. “Contemporary literature can include works from

the modern era as far back as the 1940s. Which makes me think he wants something from back then, too, at least as a reference

point if not comparative.”

I want to debate this further, but I know he’s right. “Okay, fine. It’s probably time I finally read an Austen book, anyways.”

Aiden’s eyes jump up from the screen to my face. They’re rounded in disbelief. “Wait, you’ve never read Austen? Really?”

Exactly as I expected.

“Are you gonna go post it online so your followers call me a fraud?”

“Hey, that’s the second time now you’ve basically accused me of trying to take you down in some way online, and I’m not really

sure where you’ve gotten that idea. Do I enjoy our rivalry? Sure. It’s fun. But I’ve always thought it was friendly, at least.”

“Friendly? Have you seen the comments?”

“I try not to read the comments.”

“How do you interact with your followers, then? How do you maintain engagement? How do you build and keep loyalty?”

“To be honest, my mental and emotional health are more important to me than any of that. Anyways, rest assured, I’m not trying

to drag you online in any way. I never thought of it as your followers versus mine. I thought we shared a lot of the same

followers. I mean, you have over a million, and I’m getting close. We’re the same age, we’re both Korean American, crossover

is likely, don’t you think?”

This may be true, but among those followers, there are definitely some Team Irene vs. Team Aiden ones in the mix. But Aiden

doesn’t read the comments. Is it possible he doesn’t realize what’s being said about me?

“Though... I wouldn’t mind some of those brand deals you’re getting. People like the novelty of a guy reading romance, but no one wants to put money behind it, I guess.” He shrugs. “But I was recently approached about a pretty unique opportunity to create content for a cool Korean brand. We’ll see if anything comes out of that. It would be my first paid gig.”

If this is his first sponsorship, maybe he isn’t as big as I thought. Seems he still has a ways to go before catching up to

me. I had five deals before I was even a year into all this.

“Anyways, since I made the suggestion of Austen—that is, if you’re willing to give Austen a try—why don’t you go ahead and

pick the comparison novel. It can be any book... the assignment is to compare and contrast across these topics.”

When faced with the choice of any romance novel, what to choose, what to choose?

“And may I suggest maybe not making too safe of a choice,” he chimes in as I’m thinking.

“What do you mean?”

“From what I’ve seen, you tend to stick with safe choices, staying in a lane, not being contrarian in any way. I realize you

have your reasons. But I’m assuming you don’t actually love every book you read, and sometimes I wish people online could

see that side of you, too. You can hate a book, you know. You don’t have to find something to rave about in each one. For

this assignment, maybe pick a book that will challenge us both.”

“I’m not safe,” I argue. So I don’t like disappointing people. It’s just easier to focus on making other people happy.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” he says.

“You barely know me.”

“Well, you haven’t given me any reason to believe otherwise.”

“Just because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Just because I can find something to enjoy in every book, even if as

a whole it wasn’t for me...”

“Exactly. Safe.” He leans back in his chair, that now familiar smug smile on his face.

My face heats as all the blood inside me simmers, building to a boil. How dare he judge me? And anyways...

“You only know my online persona,” I say.

“So, I’m right... you are putting on a show,” he says.

“Wait, no, that’s not how I meant it. I just meant...”

“Look, you don’t have to explain. I get it. You don’t owe your followers all of you. You can give them as much or as little

of yourself as you want. I just think you should admit that who you are online isn’t entirely... you.”

I think about what Aiden just said. How he’s just nailed a truth that no one else in my life, maybe not even myself, could

see. Or at least didn’t make the effort to see.

He’s leaned back into his chair, ankle crossed over knee, arms folded on his stomach, a picture of relaxed confidence. I examine him, trying to read his expression, to see if he’s baiting me in some way or if we’re actually having an earnest conversation.

“Do you hold back online? I mean, like, do you have a persona?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I care enough about my online presence to try that hard...”

Figures.

“...but with this opportunity with the Korean company in front of me, I have thought about how I might best present myself

to fit what they’re looking for.” He lets out a deep breath, the first sign that maybe he’s feeling some pressure these days,

too.

“Well, good luck with all of that,” I say. “Really, I hope you sign the deal.” And, surprising even myself, I realize I mean

it.

We walk out of the library and halfway across campus in silence. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable, but rather, it’s...

nice. I can’t say that we’re suddenly besties just because we shared little pieces of ourselves with one another. But maybe

Aiden Jeon isn’t the enemy I made him out to be. Plus, if we’re going to work together all semester, I should at least try

to get along with him.

“How was your date the other night, by the way? With Maddie?” I ask.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Our steps are perfectly in tandem. Even though his legs are way longer than mine, somehow, our pace is exactly the same.

“Oh, it was okay. Garrett was right about that place. It really was good. How was your date?”

Left. Right.

“It was fun, I guess. Are you going to see Maddie again?”

I pick up my pace slightly. He matches mine without hesitation.

“I doubt it. I just went out with her for research,” he says.

“Research?” I ask.

Left. Right.

“Yeah, I connected with her on Fringe—you know, the dating app? The company that’s interested in working with me is one of

Korea’s biggest dating apps.”

I trip over my own foot and stumble. Aiden reaches out and grabs my arm to keep me from eating it on the sidewalk.

I look up at him in shock.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“The dating app.” I’m almost too afraid to go on, dread creeping its way up my spine as I already know the answer to my question.

“Is it SKCupid?”

Aiden’s eyes widen. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

I pull my arm out of his grip and step back, trying to put space between us. How could he do this? And to think, I was almost

beginning to not hate him.

“Because they approached me about the opportunity, too. I can’t believe they talked to both of us. I thought they’d already chosen me to do it, done deal. I even came up with a whole plan to strengthen my brand.” Thoughts race in my head. Have they spoken to any other creators as well? What’s their selection criteria? Are they having second thoughts about me?

“What do you mean?”

When they told me they needed a bit more time before making the final offer, I didn’t for even one moment think it was because

they were considering other people. They mentioned “market research,” not other creators. Did they approach Aiden because

they doubted I could do this, that I could represent romance for them? Was it because I’ve never been in love and they somehow

found out? Did they read the comments?

“What plan?”

I thought I had time—time to find a boyfriend, get some real-life romance experience under my belt, and seal the deal. Maybe

I need to speed things up.

“Your plan is to find a boyfriend? How is that, in any way, gonna seal the deal for you?”

It registers that I said my last thought out loud. In front of Aiden. Shit.

God, and coming from his mouth, it sounds ridiculous.

“Forget it,” I say. I turn and keep walking, increasing my pace to an almost jog.

A hand grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Tell me,” he says.

“No,” I bite back.

Aiden is partially to blame for me coming up with this plan in the first place. And now his mere existence could ruin it all

for me. My breath is short, along with my fuse. And apparently my common sense and self-preservation as well. Shit. Did I

just... spill the beans to Aiden Jeon, of all people, about my plan? Maybe he didn’t hear me.

“Irene, talk to me. I don’t just want bits of the conversation. We have to clear this up if we want to figure out what’s going

on,” he says. We . Why is everyone trying to “we” me?

But he’s right. I need to hear his side, too, so that I know where I stand with SKCupid. I can’t lose this deal. And not to

Aiden Jeon.

“FINE. Fine,” I concede. I’m out of bravado and energy. I just want to get the confession over with, barely survive the ridicule,

hear his side of the story, and then be on my way. “I, well, I got so sick of seeing the comments about how I can’t review

romance because I’ve never been in a relationship. And I got worried that SKCupid would question my ability to be the face

of romance for their brand. I decided to change that. So I made a plan.” I stop and close my eyes before confessing the rest.

“I’m going to fall in love. And I’m going to use tropes to do it.” I gulp back my embarrassment.

He stares at me.

He doesn’t even blink.

I don’t have it in me to go into further detail. I don’t want to admit that in the first week alone, I’ve flubbed two tropes, two dates, already. And I’m worried that my foolproof plan to fall in love may not actually work.

Aiden puckers his lips, narrows his eyes, and nods. “That’s...”

Ridiculous.

A joke.

Never gonna work.

“...a fucking amazing idea. I’m impressed, Irene. You’re right, not safe at all. You took matters into your own hands.

And using tropes, the thing you know like the back of your hand. That’s actually genius.”

I turn to stare at him, making sure he’s not mocking me. I’m both shocked and satisfied by this response. I open my mouth

to say something, but no words come out. Well, shit. He’s rendered me speechless.

“It sucks that it took comments by total strangers to motivate you. But I can get behind the execution. Wait, your date with

Garrett?”

“Age-gap,” I answer.

“Yeah, okay, I can see that. And that guy at the coffee shop everyone was talking about?”

“What? When? Where?”

“After orientation,” he says.

I turn beet red and look around the quad for a hole I can crawl into. I groan before explaining. “Okay, so I was going for small-town romance. But turns out it was just a poorly executed attempt at fake dating on his part.”

He nods, examining me with a look I am not trusting right now. He narrows his eyes. “You know, I really like this idea. It’s

brilliant, actually. Fuel for some really prime content. You should post about it online. Let your followers come along for

the ride. They would eat this up. And I bet SKCupid would love this shit. In fact...”

I do not like where this is going.

“...what if...”

Nope, not liking the sound of this at all.

“...I do this too?”

“ What? ” I look around to see if my screech has disturbed or garnered the interest of any other students walking around campus. No

one looks, except a frightened squirrel who books it up a tree to get away from me.

I turn back to Aiden, wondering if both my hands would fit around his neck. If I just squeeze tightly enough...

“What if I do the trope-to-find-a-mate plan, too? At the same time. We can make it into a challenge or something. It would

be fun. And I bet we both get a huge bump in views and followers from it.”

“Absolutely not. This is my idea. My plan. And it’s, it’s... personal.”

“You’re not doing it because you want to find love. You’re doing it to prove to your followers and SKCupid that you can, that you really are the expert in all things romance.” He’s calling me out.

I hate that he thinks he can read me so well. And I don’t correct him that it’s actually his followers I’m trying to convince.

“I most certainly am not,” I object. To what, I’m not sure.

“What, are you afraid I’ll find love first?” The challenge in his voice is unmistakable. He’s goading me.

“Yes. Obviously. Good-looking guys always have the leg up. And you’ve never had trouble dating.”

He guffaws. “How do you know? I’m not exactly some dating expert. And excuse me, but have you seen yourself, Irene? You’re

stunning. This is gonna be so easy for you. But you’re emotionally stunted, clearly. And shy. So, I might still have a chance.”

He winks, and even though my eyes only see red, I can admit that winking works for Aiden way better than it did for Garrett.

My mind is reeling. What is he talking about? “Stunning”? “Emotionally stunted”? Rude! I can’t let him find love before I

do, not with a plan that I concocted!

“Why are you doing this? What do you get out of it?” I ask.

“Well, first, it could be a lot of fun. Second, I’m actually not opposed to finding my first love. That’s what college is

for.”

First love.

My eyebrows lift of their own accord. That’s surprising.

“And third, well, what if we make it easy on everyone involved and the loser bows out of contention for the SKCupid deal? Clearing the way for the winner to take it all.”

My jaw drops to the ground. “What? I worked hard for that deal. No way!”

“Why not? It’s the perfect setup,” he says.

Setup for what, I wonder.

But I can’t let Aiden take this away from me. I can’t let him win. I am determined to find love first.

I ball my hands into fists and swallow my fury. “Okay, okay. But when I win, you have to shut down all your review accounts.”

The words are out before I even register saying them. It’s not exactly what I want. I don’t hate that Aiden is on the scene.

I just want him to stop breathing down my neck in this unspoken race for followers and views.

His eyes don’t leave mine, and I won’t be the first to look away. I see a tiny tick in his jaw, his lips in a tight line,

his left eyebrow slightly raised. He’s never taken this long to answer. He doesn’t play it safe. So why the hesitation?

I want to take it back. But before I can say something, he gives a curt nod.

“Fine,” he says. One word. And with it, a barrage of questions fills my mind. I never actually asked him why he does this,

reviewing books online. Is all of this more important to him than I thought? And if so, did I just unleash a beast who’s unwilling

to lose to me?

“We’ll need some ground rules,” I say. “We should each have a second. That person will keep the list of tropes that we’re targeting and keep track of those we’ve completed. Jeannette will be mine, obviously.”

He nods. “And each date should be rated with a success level of one to ten. You win by falling in love and entering into a

serious relationship, or, if neither of us can manage that—”

As if. I’m definitely going to.

“—then we tally up the scores of all the dates and see whose is the highest.”

“Agreed,” I say. He’s so cocky, but the rules he just outlined still give me a chance. I will of course go for my HEA. But

if all else fails, I can rack up points by pure volume. I will date till I’m blue in the face.

“Okay, I’ll have my second submit my list of tropes by end of day,” he says, all business.

“I’ll ask Jeannette to do the same,” I say, more all business.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Game on,” he draws out as his face stretches into a full-blown smile, dimples and all.

I don’t know what the hell I just got myself into, but I’m suddenly ten times more motivated than I was before.

I’m gonna get that HEA even if it kills me.