Chapter 1
After six months of online dating, my boyfriend stubbornly refused to meet in person. So I spent twenty bucks to hire a courier to deliver some treats and secretly scope things out for me.
When the courier came back, his voice was heavy with sympathy. "Listen to me, miss," he said, "delete him. That man... he's short, shabby, and leaning on a cane. He looks at least sixty."
I froze, then snapped. Without a second thought, I blocked him. I typed: [You freaking liar! We're done.]
The next day at work, the whole office was buzzing about how the high-and-mighty CEO, not even thirty, had been dumped. The reason? Word was, he was considered too old and useless.
I was just about to enjoy the gossip when the big boss called me into his office. He stared at my freshly painted crimson nails, brow furrowed, a curious gleam in his eye. "That shade looks kinda familiar," he said.
*****
When the courier called, I was glued to my phone, daydreaming about what kind of drop-dead gorgeous man my online boyfriend must be.
But he instantly shattered my fantasy. "I'm not trying to scare you. But when he opened the door, I froze. The guy's hair was thinning, and his face was all wrinkles. And I swear he looked at least 60. He was even holding a cane.
"Miss, you're so young. Don't go throwing your life away on some May-December romance. If you walk him out in public, people are going to think you're after his pension."
My head was spinning. I didn't even remember how I hung up. By the time I snapped back to reality, tears were already streaming down my face.
No wonder he had refused to video chat. No wonder he always dodged meeting in person. What, was he scared his dentures would fall out and give me a heart attack?
And all those generous money transfers he used to send me—had he been dipping into his retirement fund?
The guilt hit me like a freight train. I cried even harder. What was I, some kind of scammer targeting lonely seniors?
Sniffling, I opened my banking app, ready to send the money back.
The second I unlocked my phone, a message from him popped up: [Babe, I got the high tea treats you sent. I really liked them.]
[Did you get your nails done? I'll cover it. Go grab a coffee too, okay?]
I stared at those lines, my stomach turning. The thought that I had spent six months calling a sixty-year-old man "babe" made me want to rip my own tongue out.
He had no clue I was spiraling. He just kept texting like everything was fine: [Why aren't you replying? Are you tired?]
[I just sent you 1800 dollars. Go enjoy something nice to eat, and don't push yourself too hard.]
If this had been a few days earlier, I would've happily taken the money and sent back a kiss emoji. But now? The money felt like it was burning a hole in my hand.
A retired old man spent money like there was no tomorrow. Guessed that he figured he had not many years left to spend it.
Furious and disgusted, I sent the money straight back and started hammering at my screen: [Keep it.]
[I never imagined you'd be such a scumbag, you old scammer.]
[Stop grossing me out. We're done.]
The second I hit send, I blocked and deleted him.
Staring at the empty chat window, I started storming around my room, packing.
The bag he bought me? Trash.
The prepaid shopping cards he topped up? Straight onto eBay.
The homemade air-dried sausages he'd mailed me... I held the bag of perfectly seasoned sausage and hesitated for a full three seconds.
To be fair, the man could cook. That sausage was better than anything I'd had at a five-star restaurant. But I shook my head.
I was looking for a boyfriend, not a personal chef. And I sure as hell wasn't signing up to see some old guy off to the grave.
So I steeled myself, tied up the bag with the sausages inside, and dumped it by the trash cans downstairs. Let the stray cats and dogs enjoy it.
I spent the entire weekend holed up at home, crying my eyes out. I felt like I'd made a fool of myself in front of the whole internet.
By Monday morning, I dragged myself to work with swollen eyes.
The second I walked into the office, I knew something was off. The break room, usually louder than a flock of birds, was dead silent. Everyone looked like the sky was about to fall.
I grabbed a coworker and whispered, "What's going on? Is the company going under or something?"
She slapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide. "Shh. Mr. Carter's back."
I froze. Alex Carter? The legendary big boss who had been off inspecting the branch office for the past six months had finally decided to grace us with his presence?
I'd only joined the company half a year ago and had never even seen Alex in person. From what I'd heard, he was cold and distant but insanely competent, and not the type to blow up over every little thing.
"So he's back. Why is everyone acting like the sky's falling?" I asked, genuinely confused.
My coworker glanced around, then leaned in, eyes practically glowing with gossip. "You have no idea. Mr. Carter is in a terrible mood today. That manager who just went in to report? Came out crying.
"I heard... he got dumped. And it was one of those sudden breakups—totally out of the blue."
Well, damn. Even the mighty CEO wasn't immune to getting dumped these days.
For some reason, that made me feel a lot better about my own disaster.
Still, I frowned. "No way. Isn't Mr. Carter like the hottest bachelor in town? He is loaded and handsome, and he still got dumped? What for?"
My coworker's face twisted. She squeezed out the answer through clenched teeth. "Apparently... she thought he was too old."
I gasped, my voice practically squeaking. "Alex? Old?"
Was this some kind of joke? Didn't the company profile say he was only 28? If that counted as old, then what was my sixty-year-old online boyfriend? A museum exhibit?
The moment the words left my mouth, the elevator across from me dinged and the doors slid open. A tall, striking man stepped out.
He wore a perfectly tailored designer suit, broad in the shoulders and trim at the waist. His features were so handsome that they could make anyone's knees buckle.