Six days and one very important match later, I claim an empty seat under a palm tree wrapped in twinkle lights and set my tray of dumplings and cup of boba beer onto the sticky table. I drag the metal chair a foot to the left along the concrete ground until I have a clear view of one table in particular across the courtyard. I keep my sunglasses on, even though the sun has already started to set.
“Do you have eyes on the targets?” Alisha asks, her voice booming through my earbuds.
“Rat and Dragon are now seated. I repeat, they just sat down,” I say quietly, feeling like an undercover agent in a spy movie. Why haven’t I been doing this for all of my clients’ dates?
Lines of people form in front of food trucks, dessert booths, and the beer garden outside of the San Gabriel Mission Playhouse, the backdrop to this year’s Dumpling and Beer Festival. Laughter fills the air as families, couples, and fellow singles hunt down dinner and taste test delicious beer flavors like matcha and mango.
I bite into my mac and cheese dumpling and prepare to witness sparks flying. Across the courtyard, Bennett and Harper toast their beers and dig into their dumpling assortment and pile of mochi waffles.
“I hope they like each other,” I say into the headphone microphone. “He needs to fall in love.”
“You combed through the entire database and thought through each of their traits. I think they’re going to like each other,” Alisha says reassuringly.
“They’re both entrepreneurs and share a similar work ethic. She has big ideas for the future, and he’s resourceful enough to support them. She’s interested in food, he’s creative with his food pairings and is actually a decent cook—”
“This is according to the sushi he made you on your date, right?” she asks dramatically.
I draw hearts into the condensation on my beer glass. “It wasn’t a date, Alisha. It was research.”
Alisha snickers. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Speaking of research, Harper doesn’t know you’re there, right?”
“No! Neither of them do. I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly for them. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realizes how wonderful she is.”
I watch as Bennett and Harper smile politely at each other. Harper laughs at something he says, and I become acutely aware of how she’s angled her body toward him.
“They’re sitting awfully close for a first date,” I mumble.
“That’s a good thing, remember?” Alisha says.
“Yeah. Yes, definitely. Of course,” I repeat like I’m trying to convince myself. “There’s usually some warm-up time involved, that’s all.”
“You’re good at what you do. You’ve already warmed them up. Now it’s game time,” Alisha says, slightly distracted. On the other end, I hear the opening song of My Best Friend’s Wedding in the background.
I nod to myself. “Right. We’ve got this in the bag. By the end of the night, he’ll be swooning.”
Harper drops her fork, and Bennett reacts before she has a chance to, picking up the utensil and standing to grab her another one. “I wonder if he’ll throw himself on the ground for her, too,” I mumble. At the thought of him doing that for Harper, my breathing becomes shallower.
“He did what?” Alisha asks, humming along to the movie’s song.
My heart thumps hollowly. “He was a gentleman, that’s all,” I say, not wanting to give more life to a kind gesture that probably meant nothing.
The crinkle of a plastic bag cuts the first part of Alisha’s sentence off. “—hope she’s into him. From the way you described him, he sounds intense. Now that I think about it, though, he could’ve reacted to the article a lot worse, so maybe he’s not so bad.”
I take a sip of beer through the wide straw, a mouthful of tapioca coming up with it. “He’s not a bad guy. Besides, he’s our enemy. Not hers.”
“By the way, have you talked to your Pó Po yet?” Alisha asks.
A group forms around a table to cheer on a dumpling-eating competition. “Not yet. I need more details first. He could be messing with me. Trying to get into my head.”
“That’d be a bizarre way to do it, don’t you think?” she says.
I narrow my eyes in Bennett’s direction. “This guy’s capable of anything.”
I lean onto my elbow to see around a family who has stopped to huddle in my line of sight. When they finally move, Harper’s alone at the table. I scan the crowd and find Bennett paying for more dessert at a booth.
“I wonder if he’ll scrape the frosting off that cake, too,” I say. Instead of going back to the table, he turns in my direction. “Uh, let me call you back.”
“I’m a big boy. I don’t need a babysitter, you know,” Bennett calls out to me as he approaches. He slides a plate of matcha cake across the table. “I brought you this. Thought all your sleuthing might make you hungry.”
“That was unnecessary,” I say, my mouth watering. “How did you know I was here?”
“I sensed a disturbance in the Force,” he jokes. “You only sat next to one of the few decorative palm trees and are wearing sunglasses at night. You might as well have strapped a neon light to your chest that blinks, ‘I’m discreet!’”
I lean my forehead into my palm. “Does Harper know?”
“Oh. Yeah. She thinks you’re really committed.”
I push my sunglasses over my head. “Because that’s what in-person matchmaking allows me to be. Committed. You’re not left to your own devices like all the poor souls in Digital Purgatory.”
“In what?” Bennett asks.
“Nothing. You wouldn’t understand. You didn’t tamper with this, did you?” I ask suspiciously, hovering my chopsticks over the icing.
Bennett shakes his head. “Too many witnesses.”
The corner of my mouth lifts into an almost-smile before I remember why I’m here and my mission of taking down Bennett—I mean, finding Bennett love.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can call it off right now, no hard feelings.”
“Your date’s going that well already, huh?” I ask, crossing my arms over the section of table in front of me. “We can call it off if we both agree that I win.”
“No one has won yet. But you know what happens if one of us does, right?” he adds with a peculiar shyness.
I drop my hands into my lap. “The details of the competition were pretty clear,” I state. But deep down, I know what he means. If I win, I lose Bennett. But he’s not mine. Never has been. Any chance of there being an us is over before it can even begin. What am I saying? There is no us. There could never be an us.
Bennett lingers in the drawn-out silence. “Okay. As long as we’re clear.”
“Perfectly,” I say hesitantly, my voice shaky. I clear my throat. “Harper’s great, isn’t she?”
Bennett looks caught off guard by my quick transition. “She really is,” he says. “I have to thank you for not sending us to salsa dancing or anything. The night would’ve ended before it started.”
“Very interesting,” I say. “How do you know there’s not going to be dancing here?”
“Here in public? Where? On the tables?”
I motion toward the tables. “This date could be one giant flash mob. You don’t know.”
“If that happens, I’m gone.” Dread ripples across Bennett’s face. “I had an embarrassing junior prom moment that put me off dancing forever,” he explains.
I’m immediately intrigued, but he’s already been over here long enough. “Hates dancing. I’ll make a mental note,” I say, “for the next time that there won’t be because, I mean, come on!” I motion toward Harper across the square, who’s watching the live band that’s just started playing.
“She’s open to trying all the different food, she does interesting work, and she’s very pretty,” Bennett says. A pang shoots through me. “I admit you’re good. Though that was never in question.”
“Exactly. So how about we just call it for what it is? I win, you lose, we both move on.”
Bennett braces his hands against the back of a chair and leans forward. The veins in his forearms swell, shadows pooling in the grooves of his defined muscles. I pull my attention from them, remembering that they belong to the competition in front of me.
“The bet was on who would fall in love first. Last I checked, I’m not in love with Harper,” he says.
“Yet,” I say, not meaning to sound so hesitant about it.
“You’re not getting out of your date,” Bennett says, the corner of his mouth sloping upward.
I catch myself staring at him and look away before he notices me. “Speaking of date, I see what you’re trying to do here. The only rule was that you have to give it a fair shot. Don’t you dare sabotage this,” I say quickly. “Just ignore me. Pretend I’m not here.”
“That’s hard to do, but I’ll try,” Bennett says, his eyes sparkling in the palm tree’s lights. A flicker of electricity shoots through me. We linger in the moment for longer than I expect. Suddenly, he adds, “Hey, did you know Oktoberfest started in 1810, and every year, over two million gallons of beer are consumed?”
I lean forward in my chair. “Keep those fun facts between us,” I instruct. “I don’t know yet how Harper feels about trivia or you being a piñata filled with useless, but interesting, fun facts.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Bennett says, walking backward away from me slowly. He pauses briefly and then turns and heads back to Harper.
When he’s gone, I become highly aware of his absence. He doesn’t look over in my direction for the next thirty or so minutes, as though there’s an unspoken agreement between us. He does something animated with his hands and makes Harper laugh more. I so badly want to know what he’s saying.
Twenty minutes later, I abandon my prime viewing position at the table and find cover in a shadowed arched doorway closer to Bennett and Harper. I check my phone for new emails and confirm the balloon delivery details for tomorrow’s Cookie Day.
“Would you like to join us at the table?” Bennett asks, appearing beside me in the doorway.
My hand flies up over my heart. “You scared me! Don’t do that!”
“You’re lurking creepily in the shadows.” Bennett positions himself next to me, resting his shoulder against the wall. “Do you do this for all your matches?”
“Remember what I said about pretending I’m not here?”
“Harper found a few of her chef friends. I think she’s bored with me,” Bennett says.
“What? No! She’s just being friendly,” I say, standing on my toes to look over the crowd. She’s surrounded by a small group of people in chef jackets. “Go back over there and charm her. Meet her friends.”
“Before I do that, I wanted to clear up something between us. What I said at the panel, about your Pó Po,” Bennett starts.
“You were just trying to rile me up. You were mad about the article,” I say, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction. It doesn’t matter whether I meant to send the article or not. The fact is, it’s out there. And for that, I do owe him an apology. “I’m sorry about that. And for using the digital identity crisis line. And then throwing it back in your face at the panel. And for sneakily matching with you and lying about who I am.”
Bennett smirks. “Is that all?”
“Yes. That’s all I’m sorry for. Nothing else,” I say, watching him carefully.
Bennett reacts to my expression with one that looks like surprise. “I appreciate that. Though the word mad sounds extreme. Hurt, yes. But I can handle a little bad press. I wish it didn’t come from you, is all. The manipulating-a-match thing I honestly can’t be mad about. You beat the algorithm. That’s impressive.”
I lift my chin up. “That’s right. Remember that’s who you’re dealing with. Someone who beats algorithms.”
Bennett inhales sharply before finally saying, “I’m sorry, too, for not telling you I knew who you were.”
My shoulders relax in relief. It feels good to come to some kind of understanding. “Now I guess we’re back to being even.”
“How about we make a pact not to lie to each other anymore?” Bennett says.
I tilt my head forward. “Why?”
“We’ve lied to each other enough, don’t you think?”
“You’re probably right. I guess I can agree to that,” I say. “So you’ll tell me what the product launch is then?”
Bennett’s face glimmers with amusement. “That’s a surprise, not a lie.”
“Fine, then be honest with me about Pó Po.”
Bennett takes a step closer, and I can feel the heat of his body take the chilly edge off. “That would be a weird and specific thing to lie about. She really did match my parents.”
I think for a few seconds. “I’ll have to ask her to confirm.”
“Want to stroll?” Bennett asks, glancing over my head at Harper.
I look over in the same direction. She’s engrossed in conversation with her group of friends. “Quickly. Tell me more about Pó Po. Then get back there and be social.”
We weave around families and children munching on dumplings, making our way to nowhere in particular. I unzip my jacket to release some of the heat forming in my chest. Too much boba beer probably.
“You didn’t expose Pó Po on stage. Why?” I ask as we walk side by side under colorful archways.
Bennett lifts an eyebrow in surprise. “What was there to out?”
“That she made an incompatible match,” I say grimly.
He tucks his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. The curves of his upper arm muscles are accentuated as the fabric of his sweater pulls tighter against his body. My heart rate quickens when I notice the way he’s looking over at me. “Your Pó Po made a successful match.”
“Not technically. You could’ve delegitimized our entire business in ten seconds.”
“The legacy and credibility of Lunar Love isn’t hanging by the thread of one incompatible match,” he says. “You’re known for your quality matches, period. I think it’s you getting hung up on needing every match to be perfectly compatible.”
“It’s how relationships should be,” I say firmly.
“Olivia, you’ll miss out on good people if you believe compatibility is the one and only way to love,” Bennett says. “Trust me on this.”
“No, I’ll only avoid the wrong people if I do,” I retort. “Pairing incompatible animal signs together only leads to trouble.”
In the courtyard, the live band finishes their set and switches out with a guitarist who starts playing an acoustic version of “What a Wonderful World.” A few of the older couples slow dance in the courtyard, their heads resting against one another. Unexpected longing for something indescribable strikes me suddenly. I swat the emotions away.
“Look, it’s your nightmare,” I joke, swaying to the music.
Bennett ignores the dancers. He doesn’t even tap his foot to the beat. Instead, he just examines my face. “Life is restrictive as it is. Why set more boundaries for yourself?”
“You never answered my original question backstage about how you know me through Pó Po,” I push back, changing topics.
“She talked about you,” he says casually.
“What, did you meet every week for brunch or something?” I ask sarcastically, lifting and dropping my shoulders to imitate his nonchalance. “Elaborate. I need more details. Where and when did you meet? What did she say exactly? You have to tell me. We just made a pact!”
“She told me that you would be taking over Lunar Love soon. She showed me photographs. You were a pretty cute kid.” Bennett grins, the beauty mark on his cheek lifting with the corner of his eyes.
I bury my face in my hands. “Oh, god.”
“What’s so bad about childhood photos?” he says with a laugh.
I spread my fingers over my eyes and peek at Bennett through them. “It’s not that. You were both conspiring!”
Bennett turns to walk sideways, bending closer to look at me through my window-fingers. “You make it sound a lot shadier than it was. She didn’t mention me to you at all?”
“Definitely not,” I say on an irritated exhalation.
Bennett sighs. “Your turn. What really happened at the baking class?”
We find an empty spot to sit at the Mission Playhouse’s curved fountain, the sculpture in the center spilling over with water from top to middle to bottom. From here, I can see Harper, who’s laughing and chatting with her friends, not looking like she’s missing Bennett at all. That’s not a great sign.
I refocus on Bennett. “I told you, it was a friend from a past life. That’s all there is to know.”
“Pact,” Bennett says, holding his hand over his chest.
“Was that a trick? Just so I’d tell you?” I ask defensively.
Bennett crosses his ankle over his knee and rests his elbow on his thigh. “You promised.”
I sigh. “She really was an old, close friend. Colette.” Saying her name brings her ghost to life. Water splashes into the center of the fountain, sending ripples outward toward us. I bite my lip, trying to find the words. “I destroyed her life.”
Bennett doesn’t laugh or scoff. He sits and waits patiently for me to continue, his calmness encouraging me.
“I didn’t know she was back in town,” I add. “Seeing her was surreal.”
“How did you destroy her life?” Bennett asks without a trace of judgment in his voice. He’s in the middle of a date but is acting like he has all the time in the world for me.
“By matching her with someone incompatible.” I stare at the mossy floor of the fountain to avoid eye contact with him. The lights around the circumference of the fountain wall power on, making the water glitter in the lavender dusk. “I convinced her to let me match her. When she finally agreed, I was in a place in my life where I thought incompatible matches were harmless. I learned my lesson. I’ll never let that happen again.”
“That’s tough,” Bennett says.
I spiral deeper into my memories, reflecting on what happened. It wouldn’t be the first time these thoughts have taken over.
“I must’ve missed something in the background check,” I try to reason. “The guy convinced Colette to make a sketchy investment, took her money, and then vanished. That happened because of me. He tricked us both.”
“That’s awful,” Bennett sympathizes.
“As her matchmaker and friend, I should’ve known something wasn’t right. I was too distracted with my own life,” I admit. “I let what I was going through influence me. I refused to listen to Pó Po, to my gut, or to anyone who knew better.”
The noise of the crowd around us fades away. I confide in Bennett like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like I’ve done it before a thousand times. He listens carefully, focusing on my face. Feeling him watching me is unnerving and wholly satisfying at once.
“I haven’t talked to Colette in years, and it’s all my fault,” I continue. “Our friendship ended overnight.”
“Have you tried reaching out?” Bennett asks.
I turn my head side to side slowly. “It was pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with me. The blowup was intense. It was a rough time.” I move my ring up and down my finger, twisting it around and around.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bennett says softly. “That’s hard to lose someone like that.”
I wave my hand through the air. “I was reckless. I had—have—a responsibility. What I do, what we do, affects actual human lives. It isn’t a game. The consequences are very real,” I say breathlessly. It’s been years since I’ve talked about this. For a moment, it’s as though the weight of the world isn’t my burden to carry.
“Hence what you said about incompatibility only leading to trouble.” Bennett angles his body toward me, the expression on his face compassionate. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Is that a good enough reason for you throwing yourself on the ground?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“I would’ve done it for less,” Bennett says earnestly, a small grin playing across his lips.
His smile is contagious, and I can’t resist mirroring it. I bite down, blushing.
I look over the crowd to check on my client, who’s no longer with her group of friends. Bennett stands to greet an enthusiastic Harper, who’s spotted us. She waves excitedly and jogs the rest of the way to us.
“Hi, Olivia!” Harper says with a big smile, her lips painted blush pink.
“Harper, hi,” I say in my most professional tone. The optics of this must look bad. I form excuses in my head to say to her. But really, there’s no excuse for taking her date away. None that I could tell her anyway.
“I just needed some coaching,” Bennett says, covering for me. “She came by to make sure we were doing all right.”
“That’s so nice of you! Sorry, Bennett, I got caught up with some people I know from work,” she says, gesturing toward the food trucks. “One chef was having a bit of drama, and I had to report for friend duty. The food world is small.”
“Pea-sized,” Bennett says with emphasis.
I let out a laugh. Betrayed by my own heart.
“I thought you two were talking shop over here,” Harper asks conspiratorially.
“What? No, definitely not,” I say.
Harper rests her hand casually on her hip. “I thought you were kidding at first when you told me that this date was with the founder of ZodiaCupid. Who knew he was using Lunar Love! But he uses both like me. I guess why limit yourself?” she says. “How nice that the two of you get along so well.”
Bennett lifts up his eyebrows in agreement with her. “We’re all just trying to bring more love into the world. Isn’t that right, Olivia?”
“One compatible match at a time,” I say sweetly. “Don’t let me hold you up. Enjoy the dumplings and the unlimited beer, on Lunar Love.”
“In that case, round two in the beer garden?” Bennett asks, offering his arm to Harper. She links her arm in his and smiles. I gulp down my envy as their bodies move together as one.
“Bye, Olivia!” Harper says giddily.
“Enjoy your date! Love is in the air!” I shout awkwardly, attracting stares from children challenging each other to stuff entire dumplings into their mouths.
Bennett glances over his shoulder, making eye contact with me one last time before entering the beer garden. Rat and Dragon are on the move.