Lunar Love (34)

“No, that didn’t come out right. I—”

“And what do you mean it clicked? How do you even know who I am?” I ask, my tone edgier.

“Hey, remember that you lied to me, too,” Bennett says. “You’re also complicit in whatever this is. For all I know, you could’ve known who I was before our first date.” He scrunches his forehead in thought. “Wait. Did you?”

“Did I what?” I say obliviously.

“Did you know who I was before our first date?”

Caught again. I bite my lip. “I knew who you were since the Matched with Love conference, okay?” I say, finally conceding. “You were there yammering on about how opposites can attract and handing out beta codes and surprisingly soft eco-fleece like candy.”

Bennett studies my face. “That was you I was debating with?”

I look past his shoulder to avoid making eye contact with him.

“Good for you. You had me fooled. So you, what, saw me at the conference and then purposely used my app to match with me?” he says in a slightly joking tone.

I don’t answer.

His mouth drops open. “No…way. And here I am thinking fate played a role.”

A small snicker tumbles out. We may have coincidentally run into each other at the bakery, but we were brought together because of my matching abilities. Sure, they may have been on his app, but that’s beside the point.

“Fate? Please. I am fate,” I mumble. I regret ever wanting to tell him the truth.

Out of nowhere, Bennett breaks into laughter, his entire body shuddering in amusement.

“You think this is funny?” I ask, looking around at the stares we’re attracting.

“I laugh so I’m not completely freaked out. We both lied so we could see more of each other,” Bennett says.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” I say, though this isn’t entirely accurate. Part of me did want to see him again, and now after this, we’ll probably never see each other again. That’s a discomforting thought.

Bennett presses a hand against his chest. “You’re acting like I’m the bad guy here. You do realize how manipulative what you did was, right?”

I cross my arms, probably looking pouty and petty, but I don’t care. “You’re right. I never should’ve tried to match with you,” I say, exasperated. “Now you know how I know who you are. How do you know who I am?”

“We should talk about this after,” Bennett says, remaining calm. “I’ll explain everything.”

“No. We’re going to talk about this right now. My taking over Lunar Love hasn’t been announced yet publicly. In fact, today is the announcement. You would’ve found out once you heard the podcast. Did Marcus give you a list of panelists with our titles?”

“He didn’t,” Bennett says matter-of-factly.

“Then tell me how you know who I am,” I command, growing in confidence.

Bennett pushes his hands into his dark jean pockets and looks over at the crimson velvet curtain. “I can’t really say,” he mumbles.

I close the distance between us. His musky scent sweeps over me and chips away at my assurance. How dare he unnerve me like that!

“What, did you take a blood oath? Bennett,” I say sternly, “tell me.”

His eyes scrunch as he processes something. “I know about you,” he starts slowly, “because of your Pó Po.”

“Pó Po as in…June Huang?” I ask with a laugh. “No, seriously. That’s not funny.”

Bennett nods. “Seriously.”

I stumble back. “What the—”

“Olivia Huang Christenson, everybody!” Marcus announces from the stage.

Bennett gently grabs my shoulders and turns me around. I somehow manage to put one foot in front of the other and walk across the stage. I even get a wave in. Randall points to his cheeks and mouths the word “smile!” I force one across my face and then see him shaking his head and mouthing “too much!”

Under an ornate arch spanning the width of the stage, five armchairs are arranged in a half-moon formation like we’re about to be in conversation with Oprah. Even she wouldn’t be able to soothe me right now. Small tables with microphones are placed artfully in front of each seat. The third panelist, a woman who I recognize as the relationships editor from El Lay Daily, is already settled into the farthest chair to the left of Marcus. The fourth panelist, the consumer market research person, is seated directly next to him. She looks up at me and gives me a polite smile. I sit in the chair opposite her, meaning Bennett will be between me and Marcus. Just the two of us sitting stage right pretending to act like everything’s normal. How hard can that be?

“You look like a celebrity caught in paparazzi headlights! Relax. This won’t be too painful!” Marcus whispers to me with a chuckle before announcing Bennett.

I watch Alisha’s and Randall’s jaws drop as Bennett crosses the stage and sits down next to me. He gives the crowd a small wave before his eyes flit over to mine. I want to glare at him, but if I look at him for too long, I fear I’ll forgive him before he’s even had a chance to say sorry.

We spend the next ten minutes giving brief introductions, explaining the work we do, and fielding easy questions. I try to remember my talking points, but my thoughts feel like mush as I try to overanalyze every interaction I’ve had with Bennett. It isn’t until Marcus directs a question to both me and Bennett that my brain perks up.