by Lisa Lace
Think about the tickets, Tom. You can see her anytime.
I say one last goodbye to Laura and the kids, giving each of them a hug, then walk briskly toward my rental Mercedes.
It’s full of gifts from everyone in the trunk; the plant Zoe gave me is strapped into the front passenger seat beside me. I turn on the ignition and reach for the stick to switch into drive. I’m about to press down on the gas when something catches my eye.
Zoe’s note. I still haven’t read it. I turn off the car and pull Zoe’s card toward me. I open it and read.
Dear Tom,
Merry Christmas.
I know you don’t know the first thing about flowers, but this one is a chrysanthemum.
Chrysanthemums symbolize lasting relationships, loyalty, and devotion. People don’t often give someone a red chrysanthemum because that’s a symbol of devoted, passionate love rather than friendship or a short romance.
It was the perfect flower for you.
The time I’ve spent with you since you came back to Maine has turned my life upside down. You’ve given me all the things I never knew I wanted.
Please stay, Tom. I love you.
Zoe xx
Zoe
After Tom leaves, I’m in shock. Everything I’ve grown to love and cherish has been ripped away. I start to cry as soon as he’s gone, and Laura’s face creases with sympathy.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
I wipe my eyes, but the tears keep coming. “I really thought he might stay.”
Laura rubs my back. “You never know what the future holds. I believe that you two are meant to be together. I’ve never seen either of you so happy before.”
“There’s so much keeping us apart now. I have my work, he has his. How are we meant to build a life together with all that in the way?”
“When things are meant to be, they find a way.”
“I love him, Laura.”
Her face softens into a kind smile. “I know. It was written all over your face every time you were in the same room. His, too. How did you even get there? You had such a rocky start.”
“All I had to do was look beneath the surface. All that ego and flashing his money wasn’t real. The real Tom is the kindest, sweetest, most generous man I’ve ever met. He tries so hard.”
Laura nods. “I always saw that in him, too. No matter how much he screwed up, you could never say he didn’t try.”
“What will I do without him?”
“You’re not without him. It’s just going to take a little more effort now.”
“It sounds stupid, but I miss him already.”
“It’s not stupid.”
I raise my hands helplessly. “I know he’s trying right now, with the ticket and everything. I mean, this necklace. What a beautiful thought. He’s trying to show me that I mean something to him, right?”
“I’ve known Tom his whole life, and he’s not the sort for grand romantic gestures. He wouldn’t have done those things if he didn’t want you to know how much he cared.”
Megan is listening in on our conversation. She reaches out and gives my knee a squeeze. “Don’t cry, Aunt Zoe. I know he hasn’t been around before, but I really believe him this time. He’s different now.”
Laura nods. “She’s right, sweetie. I’ve never seen this side of Tom before. You bring out his softer side.”
“And what about when he’s back at work?” I ask. “Don’t you think he’ll go right back to how he was before he came here? All those cameras flashing in his face and people worshipping him. Will he forget what we had here?”
I hear the front door open and spin around to see Tom standing there. In his hand, I see my chrysanthemum note.
He doesn’t say anything. He strides across the room in three short steps, pulls me up into his arms, and kisses me like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
I sink into his arms without questioning his return. My heart flutters wildly, my knees grow weak. All my fear disappears. Tom’s here.
He draws back, holding me by the shoulders and holding my gaze. “I read your note, Zoe. The chrysanthemums—I feel the same. Since I’ve met you, I’ve been different. You’re the missing piece. When I’m around you, it feels like everything has fallen into place. I love you.”
Megan and Laura hold onto each other with baited breath and round eyes.
My own eyes widen, my lips part in surprise. I step close to Tom, clasping at his shirt. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”
He grins and pulls me into his arms. “Yes. I’ve told the pilot to go home.”
I’m so happy my legs grow weak, and only Tom is holding me up. He laughs and squeezes me tightly.
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but they’ll manage without me while I figure it out. You can tear up that plane ticket. I don’t want any back-and-forth. Wherever we end up, I want to be there together.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes. I don’t want New York anymore. I don’t want fast cars and fancy parties. I’m sick to death of penthouses. I want this. A home. A family. You.”
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him so hard he stumbles back a step. I feel his laughter rising in his throat as we kiss. I laugh too, even as tears stream down my face. They’re happy tears.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Two years later, Tom takes me for another private viewing at Maine State Aquarium. Afterward, he tells me that he’s booked a boat trip on the harbor.
I board that boat talking about lobsters and shellfish, and wondering out loud whether they pull the lobsters from these very waters. Then, when I turn around, I find that Tom is on one knee, holding up a ring in one hand, and a single red chrysanthemum in the other.
I stop talking about lobsters.
“Zoe, life once threw us together when we didn’t expect it. It was only a couple of months, but that time with you stopped me in my tracks. I realized that I was missing out on the most incredible journey of my life. I haven’t regretted a single moment of life with you since leaving New York, and I can’t wait for everything that’s yet to come. I love you. Will you marry me?”
I shriek louder than Megan opening a designer dress. “Yes! Yes!”
Now we’re taking the next step of our journey. So much has already happened. After Tom decided not to leave, he then decided to stay for good. He sold his company for a fortune and built a house overlooking the sea in Maine, a five-minute walk from Laura and the kids.
Unable to stay unoccupied for long, he started a small local multi-media paper, which he loves. Megan is interning there soon. She wants to be a fashion columnist or blogger.
Laura loves having us both on the doorstep. She comes around all the time. After following her physiotherapy religiously, she is now back on her feet, figuratively and literally. She even told us she’s thinking of dating again.
Megan is off to college after the summer, and Jack is doing well in school, showing a real talent for computer technology.
As for us, we have our own child on the way. Our son is due on December 27th. Just another reason for Christmas to be our favorite time of year.
Mismatch
Ethan
Another camera flashes. Another reporter waves his hand. I try not to look bored as I nod toward one journalist, her pen hovering above her notepad.
Press conferences are all the same.
Her eyes widen at the opportunity, and she poses a question. “Mr. Steele, what has made you take such a leap from cyber security to a dating app? It’s a little out of your ballpark, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. In fact, there’s quite an overlap between the technologies. Online dating should be exciting and fun, but it’s also important that users are safe.”
“And how does your app do that—keep users safe?”
I lean forward and raise my eyebrow at the journalist. She’s a petite, young woman who is trying too
hard to look the part, with her hair tied back into a tight ponytail and her legs wobbling in heels that are too high. She flushes when I look at her and lifts her chin defiantly, to prove she’s got the guts to hold her own.
“Miss…?”
“Evans.”
“Miss Evans,”—her flush deepens when I call her by name— “the uniqueness of this app is that it doesn’t match you with merely anyone who feels like signing up. It carefully profiles each user and analyzes their background, likes, dislikes, personality, and attractiveness.” I pause. “And it matches each person with only one user, whoever is the most compatible. In answer to your question, Miss Evans, security is built into our profiling process. We ensure that the people who use the app are who they say they are. This helps us build the best profile, and confidently provide the best love match.”
Evans scribbles furiously on her notepad.
I’m uncomfortable behind the lectern at the front of the conference room. The glaring lights are too bright, and too many people are squashed into the venue. It seems like every B-rate journalist in New York is here to cover the release of Destiny.
Some of the writers work for relevant magazines, like Technology Today and CyberWares. Others are gossip columnists, more interested in my dating status than the work that has made Destiny a cutting-edge program.
Another reporter shouts his question. “Mr. Steele, has this switch to dating been inspired by your romance with Lorina Valencia?”
I glare sternly at him and force a smile. “What can I say? I suppose love is in the air.”
I see my assistant, Jennifer, standing at the conference room door. She makes a face at my answer. She catches my eye and shakes her head disapprovingly, although I can see she’s holding back a smirk.
Considering she’s met Lorina, her reaction is natural. My latest love affair has been a strategic PR move and a pain in my ass. Miss Valencia, the prima donna trust-fund baby who’s wrapped herself around my credit card, is a spoiled brat in the body of a supermodel. I’ve tolerated her only for the brownie points. Love is in the air.
“You’ve named your app Destiny. Is it fair to say you’re a romantic yourself, Mr. Steele?”
“I’ve been a romantic many times, according to the New York Insider,” I say.
A spatter of laughter spreads through the reporters. Yes, ever since I made my fortunes in the technology industry, my private life hasn’t been private. Every woman I bring back to my place for the night is splashed across the cover of some magazine the next day. A few of them, I suspect, came home with me hoping precisely for that: instant fame from fucking the billionaire playboy, Ethan Steele.
Many glamorous and beautiful women have hung from my arm during my years in the Big Apple. Lorina is the latest—alluring, gorgeous, and the most spoiled-rotten terror I’ve ever encountered. She is a raging toddler, her inner ugliness almost destroying her outer beauty. Almost.
“How successful has beta testing of Destiny been? It’s a bold claim that your app can—” he shuffles through his notes, and reads a direct quote from one of our press releases, “—'make finding your soulmate as easy as filling out a resumé.’”
My team tells me the science is there, not that I truly believe it. Destiny was simply an attempt to cross over into a new market—a younger, more commercial one.
The cyber security software we make is typically targeted at niche and established Fortune 500 companies. Now that we’ve cornered that market from almost every angle, it’s time to lean toward new avenues. My market research team concluded that online dating is the perfect crossover venture from cyber security to the youth market. And admittedly, they have more in common than you’d think.
“I don’t believe it’s a bold claim at all. The science is there. Certain qualities draw us toward one another—some that are conscious, and some we don’t even realize we desire. The magic of this app is that its series of intuitive self-assessment quizzes creates a profile of the user that tells us not only who you are, but who you want—even if you think you don’t know. It’s revolutionary.
“On most dating apps, you tell the computer what you want. Destiny tells you what you need. It reads between the lines of your answers to figure out which personal characteristics will get your heart racing. It stops you from being too sensible. ‘Does he make good money?’ ‘What will Mother make of her?’ ‘He must like dogs.’ ‘She must like children.’ Forget it. This app takes all of that away and matches you based on what gets you going, and what matters most. The rest is up to you.”
“What do you mean, ‘what gets you going’?”
“Exactly that. With online dating, people tend to go searching for one of two things: true love, or a thrill. Why can’t it be both? We prioritize compatibility in three areas: conversational compatibility, humor compatibility, and sexual compatibility. The perfect partner is someone you can talk with, laugh with, and who fills you with desire. Nothing else matters.”
“Does this app match people based on anything practical, like social or economic status?”
“You can’t make love to a credit card—although a few women I’ve known have tried. A love match, a real love match, isn’t based on earnings, status, or any of those superficial things. It’s about the way you feel when that person walks into the room.”
I say the words, and I feel darkness come over me. Only one woman has ever turned my world upside down like that, and Lorina isn’t her.
“You’re saying that you’ve found the formula for romantic chemistry?”
“We’re pretty damn close.”
The press conference lasts another twenty minutes, and when it’s over, I am relieved. I leave the conference room. Jennifer is waiting for me in the lobby of the building.
I hold up my hands. “Well?”
“You couldn’t have kept the sarcasm out of your voice when talking about soulmates? You’re meant to be promoting the app, not telling everyone how true love is a scam.” She’s crossed her arms in front of her and is trying to keep a straight face as she scolds me, although that smirk is still hiding beneath her frown. She’s wearing a tan-colored pencil skirt with a dark blue silky blouse, her long strawberry-blonde hair is perfectly straight, and her bangs are level like a razor’s edge.
“They were eating it up when I was talking about Lorina.”
“Ah, yes. Love is in the air.”
“Now who’s being sarcastic? Lorina is the light of my life, love of my heart.”
“Press conference is over, Ethan. You’re making me sick with that stuff.”
I smile. Jennifer has been by my side for so long now, she knows me better than I know myself. Perhaps she and I could have made it work if she hadn’t been in such a desperate situation when I first met her. In the end, she met her current partner, Bill, and she is happy. I’m glad she’s found someone, and I’m content to keep her as my personal assistant—and my closest and bluntest friend.
“I think you pulled it back with the talk about security and the profiling. Mentioning the psychology team was great. I forgot to put that in your notes. Destiny is unique, you’ve got to give it that. With the coverage we received today, I bet you’ll have half-a-million downloads by the end of the weekend.”
I nod, loosening my tie as we step out of the building and head toward the waiting limousine, ready to jet off to the next promotion. Jennifer has supported Destiny from the beginning. She met Bill online, convincing her that apps and websites hold the path to true love.
“That’s great,” I say. “I’m glad we’ve got all this press out of the way, so I can get back to focusing on the defense contract sooner.”
“We’re all set, Ethan. You’re meeting with James Healy tomorrow to discuss the specs. After that, you have a month to build your proposal.”
“It needs to be perfect, Jen. We both know that asshole Vincent is after the same deal.”
Jennifer offers a breezy smile and gives my arm a squeeze. “You know you’ve got this. Secur
ity is your thing. You’re the best.”
“I totally know that Vince is going to be talking shit about me to Healy as soon as he gets his shot.”
“Healy isn’t dumb. He’ll see right through it. If Vincent stoops to tactics like that, it’ll only make him look like a snake. Don’t worry about it.”
I clench my jaw and enter the car. Jennifer starts listing off my meetings for the day. Her voice becomes background noise, and I lay my head back against the headrest and shut my eyes. I’m wondering about Destiny, and all the claims I’ve made.
If I tried it, would it match me with the girl who holds my heart?
Lily
I stretch my arms up to the sky and breathe in the fresh Arizona air. There is a light breeze that keeps me cool and makes the leaves of the trees rustle. I can smell the newly-cut grass. As my toes curl into my yoga mat, I enjoy the feeling of the sun warming my skin, and I dip into the next position.
It’s busy today at Rumsey Park because the weather’s beautiful. It’s the perfect morning to be practicing yoga outdoors. My best friend, Chloe, is running the class, and she raises her eyebrows at my curled-up toes. She shakes her head. “Find balance in your core, Lily.”
I uncurl my toes and immediately begin to wobble. I see Chloe grin as she passes and begins to chastise another student. I’m grateful when we move into ‘child’s pose,’ and I can let my forehead rest against the mat, my butt in the air in my new purple yoga pants.
Chloe returns to the front of the group and brings the session to a close. It’s a relief when I can slouch again. As she says goodbye to the last of her students, I roll up my mat and join her. We’re finally alone.
She nudges me with her hip. “What have I told you about those toes?”
“I keep falling over! Especially in flamingo pose.”
“It’s not called ‘flamingo pose,’ Lily! It’s Lord of the Dance.”
