Page 121 of Meet Cute Reboot
She returns to the house.
“I’m sorry about the card,” Madison says after the door slams a second time.
“What card?”
“The maid of honor invitation card.”
“Why?”
“I just... It was bad timing. I know how important Luke was to you. I was really hoping things would work out.”
“It’s okay. He’s a lost cause. Better to know now than to waste two more years with him.”
Madison peers at me. She seems unconvinced.
“Thanks, everyone,” I say. “You can all go back to your posts.”
“I don’t feel like we helped,” Mom says.
“You did. I think I just need a few minutes alone.”
My family obliges by shuffling back into the house, leaving me to push the porch swing back and forth gently with my toes.
The weight has lifted. The water behind the dam has equalized.
Nana is right. This house isn’t my problem. It’s much more than that. Fixing it is my dream. I just need to come up with a new plan. A plan that doesn’t involve Luke.
A fresh realization descends onto my chest: I not only have to extricate myself from Luke’s money. I have to wipe myself clean of his marketing mojo. His face is splattered all over my Instagram account. How am I going to tell everyone we didn’t work out without drawing a huge black smudge on MatchAI’s reputation?
My marketing plan is as terminal as the garage. Bethany and I will have to come up with a new one. Assuming Excel doesn’t drop me when I tell them I can’t work with Luke anymore.
Maybe I can just be honest with my Instagram followers, tell them Luke and I were always a sham. I could apologize. Offer to try Cupid again. Give her a fair shake.
I pull out my phone.
The database feeding Cupid’s algorithm has grown over the past few weeks. Single men have filled out their profiles. Maybe Cupid could work for me. Who knows?
I pull up the app and stare at the Choose button. I created this app for singles like me. Singles who need a touch of my magical matchmaking dust. I believe in my app. I believe it can work.
I press Choose.
Available bachelors scroll by, in a whir at first, and then slowing, clicking by until Cupid chooses my match.
You’re kidding me.
Luke’s profile picture smiles back at me, just like it did during the news segment with Felicia Acrea. I quickly scan his profile to see if he cheated the system again. Everything checks out. The real Luke is my best chance at romance.
I’m screwed.
Chapter 23
Cassie
I lie awake in bed thinking of ways to tell Bethany that I have to cut ties with Luke. I come up with exit plans, contingency plans, fall back plans. No surprise, I’m up until the wee hours. Pudge keeps me company, purring on my chest while my heart races. I think she likes the vibration—thethud, thud, thudagainst my ribs. I’m not happy to oblige her. I’m tired-wired, the worst kind of fatigue.
When I finally manage to slip into dreams, Luke doesn’t make an appearance, but hurricanes do. From four o’clock to six o’clock in the morning, I dream of the same CAT5 hurricane about to make landfall. I run from store to store frantically trying to find supplies. When I can’t find any flashlights at Lowe’s, the guy tells me not to worry because we have phones for that now.
I force myself awake at six thirty—I can’t take the stress of the oncoming CAT5 anymore—and I make myself some black coffee and a piece of toast, and then I shower and dress for the day.