Being single on Valentine’s Day sucked.
Everybody had plans. My poly-friends, Jason, Emily, and George, left for a trip to Polynesia. They loved the pun. Even Mitch and Hal, who hated constructed holidays, made festive couple plans. I sat at my desk in my bustling office twirling paper clips and pouting.
And I don’t pout.
Loneliness was the pits. But why was being alone walloping me so hard this year? Maybe it was all my friends reveling in happy, stable relationships.
“Sylvia, you have mail.” Chloe, our office superhero, handed me an envelope, a fancy piece of stationery with a luxuriously soft feel. “You lucky devil. I wish I had gotten this invitation.”
I turned the correspondence over. When I fingered the paper, it reminded me of the exquisite craftsmanship of Italian stationery I had found in Florence, but I didn’t recognize the intricate design of the embossed logo. “You know who this is?”
“You don’t?”
I shook my head.
“You’ve never heard of ‘Make You Smile’? They’re renowned for their year-round parties. Their Valentine’s bash is supposed to be outrageous. It’s for single people. Names are submitted and selected at random.” Chloe rattled off this information with the energy of a marketer for the company.
“But I didn’t submit my name.”
My brain spun to my little group of absent friends. Who set this in motion?
“I want a full report, Sylvia. I hear it’s their signature decadent event. They dress you, feed you. There’s dancing. The whole nine...