Lunar Love (35)

“Olivia, Bennett, both of your companies match people using the Chinese zodiac, but from what you’ve both said, it sounds like one focuses on compatibility, and the other, not so much.”

I speak before Bennett has a chance to. “That’s right, Marcus. One of us—Lunar Love—actually matchmakes based on complementary traits of the Chinese zodiac. Which is the way it’s supposed to work. My grandmother started Lunar Love over fifty years ago. We’re the original here in LA,” I explain proudly.

Marcus leans forward into the microphone. “Bennett, did you know Lunar Love existed before you started ZodiaCupid?”

I turn my body to face Bennett. “Great question, Marcus,” I say.

Bennett coolly smiles. “I always do my due diligence. But I actually knew about Lunar Love in a more personal way,” he says. “June Huang, the founder, your grandmother,” Bennett continues, looking me in the eyes, “matched my parents.”

My smirk drops from my face. “That can’t be right,” I say. He told me his parents were incompatible. This guy can’t even keep his story straight.

“It’s true. I followed the path of my parents’ history, and it led me to you. To June,” he quickly corrects.

“I think you’re getting your paths mixed up,” I mutter. But even as I say those words, I falter in my conviction. Pó Po couldn’t have done that. She’s careful and meticulous. Mistakes like that are only made by me. I shift my attention back to Bennett.

He nods. “June was an excellent matchmaker, and she built an incredible business. You’re very lucky, Olivia. I’m sure you’re just as good as she is.”

Jerk! What’s this guy’s deal?

“Well, if that’s not adorable!” Marcus says. The audience claps along with him.

“It’s something, Marcus, it’s something,” I say. “But Bennett, just because Pó Po, I mean June, allegedly matched your parents, it doesn’t mean you know her. Or me.”

Marcus and the other panelists look confused as I pick up my conversation with Bennett where we left off backstage. Bennett realizes right away. He gives me a look. The look. The let’s-not-do-this-here look.

Addressing Marcus, the panelists, and the audience, Bennett says, “I see our businesses as complementary to one another. The Chinese zodiac can’t be monopolized. We offer a similar service but in different ways.” He looks smug with his political correctness.

“Our business isn’t a digital identity crisis. That’s the only difference,” I reveal in the heat of the moment.

Bennett’s smile melts off his face. His eyes turn so cold that they extinguish the fire behind mine. “That’s not—” Bennett says before stopping abruptly. He thinks for a moment, his eyebrows lifting. Under his breath he asks, “Were you the one who wrote that WhizDash article?”

Oops.

“You’re CakeGirl, aren’t you?” Bennett asks, the hurt on his face cutting deep into me.

“No sidebar conversations!” Marcus says with a nervous laugh. “Speak up so we can all hear. This is a live recording, all made possible by our generous sponsors.”

Bennett leans onto one of the armrests. “You know, it can be really hard for people to let go of the past, Marcus. Change isn’t easy for everyone. But we’re living in modern times so it’s time to stop getting stuck in our old ways. Digital is the future. What do you all think?” he asks the audience.

The audience claps and cheers to answer his question, their excitement bouncing off the walls of the theater. Everyone except Alisha and Randall, of course. They sit with their arms crossed, looking appalled and shouting boos as shields against the crowd’s enthusiasm.

I try to think of a witty comeback, but instead I become defensive. “Why do people feel the need to get rid of traditions? They’re an important part of history that will be forgotten if we,” I say, motioning my arms around the stage and out toward the audience, “don’t keep them alive. Why are you so against tradition, Bennett?”

Bennett adjusts the collar of his amber cashmere zip-up. “I’m only against tradition when it distracts you from the truth of what’s good. When you operate in a state of denial because you’re stuck in the mud of the past,” he says, his tone icy.

“Poetic! For our listeners at home, the tension in here is palpable,” Marcus says, crossing his hands over his lap. “And remember, panelists, we’re live. We can’t edit anything you say afterwards.”

I look out into the crowd and up at the faded murals above the balcony. The vaulted ceiling glimmers from the thousands of tiny mirrors sprinkled across it. It’s as though we’re in our own Spanish Gothic–style world, the indoor mirror-stars a glimpse of the past. Except instead of the sensation of feeling unconfined by the vastness of the universe, I feel trapped. All eyes are on us—on me—as I form my response.

“Tradition is steady. Reliable. Lunar Love has lasted this long for a reason,” I explain, twisting one of my rose-gold rings around my pointer finger. “We’re not some flash-in-the-pan start-up that’s only around until people move on to the next shiny thing.”

Bennett scoffs. “Sounds like someone’s worried that technology will obliterate what’s old and outdated.”