Page 70 of Meet Cute Reboot

As I bury my face into her fur, my thoughts flit to Luke. The “new and improved” Luke. The one who pines about me, who told his mom I’m the one.

“I can’t believe I’m even considering him,” I say to Pudge. “Tell me I’m crazy.”

Pudge looks up at me and meows innocently.

“Yeah. I’d play dumb too.”

I sigh, fluff my hair, and stretch.

Time for bed. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

Chapter 15

Cassie

The week roars by like a Lamborghini in the hands of a reckless teenager. On Monday, Bethany set up shop in my conference room, and we’ve been at the whiteboard ever since, brainstorming marketing ideas for the rollout to South Carolina and the neighboring states. I outlined a rollout strategy in my business plan but going viral on Instagram wasn’t included. You can’t assume a social media frenzy is going to propel your product into the national consciousness. Not that MatchAI is going national, but my livestreamed dates with Luke have a combined total of over three million views, most of those coming from Luke’s encounter with Sonja’s breasts.

While Bethany and I have been holed up in the conference room, Sarah has been making sure both of my businesses receive proper attention, taking care of customer service calls, including the occasional complaint, and making sure my tour guides are happy. She’s been fielding my emails too, including the responses from Luke’s neighbors regarding my potential tour there. Several ghost stories need my attention, but since I don’thave time to look at them now, she’s been tucking them into a folder for me to peruse whenever I catch my breath.

“So, you’re going to write the copy for the Facebook ads, and I’m in charge of the Reels,” I confirm.

My back is to the glass partition. Bethany is across from me, her back to exposed brick, a pile of notebooks and scratch paper between us, the remnants of rejected ad copy and discarded TikTok scripts. The final drafts are stored safely in our computers, ready to be launched into the world.

Neither of us has washed our hair in days. She’s hiding hers in a sloppy bun. I have mine pulled back in a limp ponytail.

“Yep,” Bethany says. “The videos are all you. We’ve already established that your face sells. Mine? Not so much.” Her rosy lips pucker as she sucks in a breath. Yes, even when she’s exhausted, she wears lipstick. Can’t say the same for myself. My lips haven’t seen a tube of lipstick in over a week.

“Do not underestimate the marketability of your visage.” I circle my face with my finger for emphasis.

“Do you guys need a break?” Sarah says from the conference room doorway.

“Yes. Definitely,” I say. “We’ve only slept eight hours in three days.”

Sarah pulls out the chair next to me and sits. “You’re gonna have to hire a customer service rep. I’ve been on the phone all afternoon telling people to shut down their computers and start them back up again. It’s a web app people. Just close the browser and reopen it.”

“Is the app glitching?” I ask, worried. Last thing I need are more technical difficulties.

“Mostly just people who don’t know their way around a computer. Also, I didn’t sign up to be an IT helpdesk.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Kidding,” Sarah cuts in. “I don’t mind.” She crosses her legs. Wearing a light blue, puff-sleeved blouse, gray slacks, an actual hairstyle, and a full face of make-up, Sarah looks more put together than me even though she agreed to miss her Tuesday classes to put in an extra day of work. I’ve been letting her come and go at reasonable hours, while Bethany and I burn our candles at both ends.

“Are you really telling people to shut down and restart their computers?” I ask.

“Only a couple times. It worked. Most people are using the app on their phones, though, so I just tell them to click the big Choose button. That usually works.”

“I’ll see about contracting a call-center,” Bethany says.

Neon dollar signs buzz in my mind. “Can I afford it?”

“If you’re rolling out to three states, I don’t see how you can afford not to.”

I see her point. We’re moving fast. Faster than I planned. Thanks to Luke. Well, and me.

Which reminds me, I haven’t heard from Luke all week. I expected him to text me, or accidentally drop by on his bike sweating buckets and asking to borrow my shower, but I haven’t heard a peep. It’s almost like he’s exercising restraint.

I groan.