Chapter 3:Blind Date

Charlotte Bennett stared at the email for nearly a full minute before sighing and closing her laptop.

Then she opened it again.

The message was still there.

Unfortunately.

Congratulations! Your application has been accepted.

Blind Match Elite invites you to attend an exclusive private event tomorrow evening at 8:00 PM.

Charlotte groaned.

"What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking that you've spent the last two years working seventy-hour weeks and haven't been on a date since college."

Her best friend, Madison, didn't even bother looking up from her phone.

Charlotte rolled her eyes.

"Thank you for your support."

"You're welcome."

Madison finally looked up from her phone and fixed Charlotte with a determined expression.

"You're going."

"I am not."

"You absolutely are."

With a groan, Charlotte dropped her head onto the desk separating them. The tiny apartment she rented in Queens was barely large enough for two people, yet she and Madison had somehow made it work for almost three years. Sharing expenses helped, but not enough to make life comfortable.

Every month, nearly half of Charlotte's paycheck disappeared into rent. Whatever remained was quickly swallowed by student loan payments, groceries, utilities, transportation costs, and a seemingly endless list of small expenses that appeared without warning. By the time everything was paid, there was rarely enough left over to worry about luxuries. Dating had never felt like a priority when most of her energy went toward staying financially afloat.

At twenty-four years old, Charlotte worked as the executive assistant to one of the most recognizable CEOs in America. On paper, it sounded impressive. Most people assumed she spent her days attending glamorous events, traveling to luxury destinations, and working alongside powerful executives. The reality was considerably less exciting. Most of her job involved fixing problems, preventing disasters, and somehow keeping Ethan Calloway's chaotic schedule from collapsing completely.

Madison crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch.

"You need a life."

"I have a life."

"You have spreadsheets."

Charlotte lifted her head just enough to glare at her friend.

"I like spreadsheets."

"You need therapy."

Despite herself, Charlotte laughed.

Maybe Madison wasn't entirely wrong.

Ever since graduating with her degree in Hospitality and Tourism Management, she had focused almost exclusively on building her career. Landing a position at Calloway Grand Hotels straight out of college had felt like winning the lottery. The company was one of the most prestigious names in the hospitality industry, and getting hired there had been a dream she never expected to achieve so quickly.

Working directly under Ethan Calloway, however, had never been part of that dream.

Not because he was cruel. He wasn't. At least, not intentionally. The real problem was that Ethan existed in a constant state of controlled chaos. One week he was opening a luxury resort in Greece, the next he was purchasing a yacht large enough to host hundreds of guests, and a few days later he would appear on the cover of another magazine beside a model whose name Charlotte could never remember. His entire life seemed to operate at a speed that gave her headaches just thinking about it.

She couldn't imagine dating someone like him.

Not that it mattered.

Ethan Calloway probably didn't even realize she existed beyond her role in the office. To him, she was likely just the woman who organized his calendar, scheduled his meetings, and somehow managed to keep his professional life from falling apart.

Madison pointed toward the laptop.

"You're going."

Charlotte let out another sigh.

The truth was that she had only signed up because Madison had spent weeks talking about the company. Blind Match Elite wasn't some random dating app filled with fake profiles and filtered photographs. It catered specifically to professionals, and everything about the process was designed to be anonymous. No photographs. No social media accounts. No judging people based on appearances, careers, or follower counts. Just conversations. Real conversations.

The concept had genuinely intrigued her.

At least until she had actually been accepted.

Now she felt more tempted to hide under a blanket and pretend the invitation had never arrived.

"What if it's awkward?"

Madison laughed.

"What if it's amazing?"

Charlotte wasn't convinced. Still, deep down, she already knew she was going. Part of her was simply tired. Tired of working. Tired of worrying about bills. Tired of watching life pass by while she spent most of her days behind a desk answering emails and managing someone else's schedule. Maybe one evening dedicated entirely to herself wouldn't be such a terrible idea.

The following day passed exactly the way most workdays did: in a blur of meetings, emails, schedules, cancellations, rescheduling requests, and enough last-minute changes to keep Charlotte occupied from the moment she arrived until lunchtime. By noon, she barely had enough time to finish her coffee.

That was when Ethan stormed out of his office.

His expression alone was enough to send employees scattering in different directions. Conversations died almost instantly, and several people suddenly became very interested in their computer screens. Charlotte watched him disappear into a conference room and frowned slightly.

That was unusual.

Ethan was normally confident.

Arrogant, even.

Today, however, he looked furious.

Something had clearly happened.

For a moment she considered asking about it. Then common sense prevailed. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with her, and getting involved in Ethan Calloway's personal problems had never ended well for anyone.

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the conference room looking no better than before. If anything, he seemed even more distracted. His jaw remained tight, his shoulders tense, and he carried himself like a man trying very hard not to punch the nearest wall.

He stopped beside her desk.

"Cancel tomorrow's lunch meeting."

Charlotte looked up from her computer and blinked.

"The investors from Chicago?"

"Yes."

"They flew here specifically for that meeting."

"I don't care."

Charlotte blinked.

"The investors from Chicago?"

"Yes."

Charlotte frowned and glanced at her schedule. "They flew here specifically for that meeting."

"I don't care."

The blunt response caught her off guard. Normally Ethan could be impulsive, but he was rarely careless when it came to business. Without arguing further, she made a note on her calendar and began rearranging the appointments that would inevitably be affected.

"Anything else?"

For the briefest moment, Ethan hesitated.

Something shifted in his expression. The frustration was still there, but beneath it Charlotte caught a glimpse of something she had never associated with him before. Exhaustion. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the usual mask of confidence and control.

"No."

Without another word, he walked away.

Charlotte watched him disappear into his office and frowned.

That was strange.

Very strange.

***

At seven-thirty that evening, Charlotte arrived at the address provided by Blind Match Elite. The building occupied an elegant brownstone on Manhattan's Upper East Side, and everything about it radiated wealth and exclusivity. A uniformed doorman greeted her before she had even reached the entrance, while soft music drifted through the lobby beyond the glass doors.

Inside, a smiling receptionist verified her identification and escorted her down a private hallway lined with tasteful artwork and warm lighting.

"Your match has already arrived."

Charlotte's stomach immediately tightened.

Wonderful.

Now she was nervous.

The receptionist handed her a folded silk blindfold.

"Please put this on before entering."

Charlotte stared at the piece of fabric before letting out a nervous laugh.

"This suddenly feels illegal."

The woman smiled politely.

"I promise it isn't."

A few moments later, Charlotte found herself standing inside a private room with the blindfold securely covering her eyes. She couldn't see anything. The darkness made her acutely aware of every sound around her, and her heart seemed determined to beat twice as fast as normal.

This was ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Then she heard a man's voice.

It was deep, smooth, and confident enough to immediately capture her attention.

"Are you nervous too?"

Charlotte froze.

The voice sounded slightly distorted, as though it were passing through a filter. The company must have been using some type of voice-modification software to preserve anonymity. Somehow, that made the entire experience feel even stranger.

"A little."

The man chuckled.

"Good."

Despite herself, Charlotte smiled.

"Why is that good?"

"Because now I don't feel ridiculous."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. To her surprise, the sound came easily.

For several seconds neither spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it carried the awkwardness of two strangers trying to decide how to begin a conversation while sitting in complete darkness.

Eventually, the man cleared his throat.

"So."

Charlotte smiled.

"So."

"We're really doing this."

Apparently they were.

Carefully, she lowered herself into the chair opposite him. The table separating them felt surprisingly small, leaving them close enough that she could hear every breath, every shift in posture, and every subtle movement he made.

"What made you sign up?" he asked.

Charlotte considered the question.

"The honest answer?"

"I prefer honest answers."

A small smile tugged at her lips.

"I work too much."

The man laughed softly.

"I can relate to that."

"What about you?"

There was a brief pause before he answered.

"My friends convinced me."

Charlotte immediately narrowed her eyes beneath the blindfold.

"That's not the real answer."

His chuckle returned.

"You're right."

For some reason, that admission pleased her.

Even without seeing him, she could tell he was smiling.

"I guess I wanted something different."

"Different?"

"I've met plenty of people."

His voice lowered slightly.

"But I can't remember the last time I had a genuine conversation."

The answer caught her off guard.

It sounded sincere.

Lonely, even.

"What do you do?" she asked.

The hesitation that followed lasted only a second.

"I run a company."

Charlotte laughed softly.

"That sounds suspiciously vague."

"It is."

"Why?"

"Because if I tell you what company, you'll know who I am."