1| Happy Birthday

You know what the problem is with being a journalist in the year 2022? Everything has been done before. If you think you've come up with an exciting new idea, chances are somebody has already done it.

The unfortunate truth is, no matter how obsessed you are with your job, no matter how committed, you have to really think outside the box. All this obsessing and hours spent journaling will inevitably lead to one thing- a serious hit to your dating life. In fact, if you're anything like me... it's pretty much non-existent.

So... when a night of drunken brainstorming landed me in a position to date WHILE working, I didn't have much of a choice but to follow through. Although instant regret of emailing my boss an absurd idea hit me like a bad hangover, the idea took. I was going to write about something so absurd that it might just work; an idea that propelled me straight out of my comfort zone.

My name is Kyla Adams, and this is my story of how I met my boyfriend through a series of mini-dates that took place in the elevator on the way up to my office.

The game was sort of a mix of already existing dating shows. Think "The Bachelor" mixed with "Love is Blind" mixed with speed dating. That's right- the game is called "eleDATE," and it isn't a reality show. It's my real experience that I documented immediately after every "date." Buckle in, and see if you can guess which "bachelor" stole my heart.

**********

I stole a glance at the vibrant purple clock sitting on my desk. "4:00," it read.

"One hour left guys. We got this!" I encouraged. As I looked around at the tired faces of my friends, I knew we were all ready for the weekend.

That's not to say we didn't love our jobs, because we definitely did. It was a literal dream job.

We were journalists for "Clicked," an online platform where people went for all the hot gossip. This place was packed full of eager writers in their 20s and early 30s all trying to top one another to get the best scoop, do the best experiment, and ultimately write the best article.

The more our articles were featured, the more we got paid- every man for themself, kill or be killed- that's how it worked here.

The office building we worked in was huge, and each floor was separated by job title. The bottom floors were all about design. That's where the graphic designers played around to make sure the website stayed organized, interesting, and aesthetically pleasing.

Then you had the photographers- literally the paparazzi of "Clicked." If the journalists come up with an amazing story, the photographers were there to get the shot to capture it. Then you have the videographers, the media specialists, the product testers- yes that's a thing, and in the middle of the building is the break room. It was a large area with lounge seating, TVs, vending machines and cafeterias.

Then, as you move up the floors you get to the editors, and the writers near the top.

The writers are also separated by floor. You have the celebrity gossip column, the TikTok trends, cooking, shows and movies, drugs and alcohol, sex, world records, debunked, life hacks, home and decor, and of course where I write- love and dating.

It's our job to be ahead and to write articles that keep the readers coming back to us. Each floor has a spokesperson to attend our board meetings, and for my section, I'm that person. That means, every week at 4:30 I needed to go and report to the man in charge- Dakota Kramer.

Dakota is one of the youngest CEOs in North Carolina, and he's the one who started this business. He's as easy on the eyes as he is intimidating, but he's also smart and knows a good article when he reads one.

Luckily, I happen to be on his good side. I was one of the first journalists he hired and I had been featured several times since then. In the beginning, Dakota and I actually went out a few times before he knew how successful he would become. Once the popularity of the site blew up, he had to step it up as the boss, hire more writers, and eventually our relationship fizzled out.

Now, he was cold and professional, and spent his time hiding away on the top floor of the building.

"Good luck pitching to Kramer," my friend Cole said. "I heard he's been in a mood today."

He didn't know my history with Dakota; nobody did. I didn't want anyone to think he was giving me special treatment, because he definitely wasn't. I was a workaholic and I knew that if my story was featured that week, I truly earned it.

"Oh shut up, she's gonna be fine. Besides, it's her birthday this weekend so if he's a dick again she can drown her sorrows in alcohol," Lydia chimed in from her desk across from mine.

I shook my head. "Yeah, it'll be fine; And noooo way Lydia. I told you- tonight's going to be chill. Nothing crazy. I have some writing I gotta do this weekend, so I can't be hungover."

My friends exchanged a look but I ignored them as I gathered up my things.

"Well, he can't be too harsh," Ellie piped up. "You look hot today in your birthday outfit."

I shook my head, heading towards the elevator. I did dress up nicer today. I was going to go get drinks with some of my friends from work- aka the "love and dating" writers. There were 10 of us, but where my desk was set up I mainly talked with Lydia, Cole, Ellie, Rory, and Hayden.

We were a close-knit group and they always knew how to keep things interesting at work. Cole and I had become friends first. He was someone that I knew I could always count on and we still are super close. Next I met Ellie and Lydia, and the 3 of us clicked instantly- the 3 amigas. Rory joined our squad when he and Ellie started dating, and Hayden joined shortly after. He always knew how to have a good time.

Now, the 6 of us were pretty much inseparable.

Anyway, I knew I'd be getting done with my work around the time I'd need to leave for drinks, so I just wore my dress here.

I wasn't super tall- only about 5'5" so my red dress flowed long enough to be appropriate for work. It was fitted, but not so much that it was skin-tight, and it was modest enough to look "business-chic" instead of "party girl."

I entered the elevator, hitting the button for 50. The top floor was literally all for Dakota. I shifted in my black strappy heels and smoothed a hand through my long strawberry blonde hair, waiting for the door to open. I wasn't sure why I always got so nervous to come up here. I literally did this every week and still, it never got any less awkward or intimidating.

I had just finished with my self-soothing talk when the elevator doors pinged open and I was met with the large, elegantly decorated floor that was Dakota Kramer's office.

The slate-gray tiled floor was immaculate and shiny, and the click of my heels echoed as I made my way towards the large desk situated in front of a huge window. The window wall was my favorite part, as it revealed a bird's eye view of the city.

Dakota sat motionless in his black, leather, swivel chair, his eyes locked onto the screen in front of him.

"Mr. Kramer?" I asked. My voice sounded odd in this deafening silence.

"Oh yes, Kyla. I forgot you'd be coming in today," he said, breaking his attention away from the screen to scrutinize me.

"I come in here every Friday sir," I pointed out.

He stared at me for a brief moment and I was nervous to break eye contact. He was very put together, always wearing a button up shirt of a different color and pattern. Sometimes he had a tie, but today he didn't and left the top 2 buttons of his shirt undone to embrace casual Friday. The white material of his shirt strained tightly across his biceps and brought out the deep olive color of his skin. I continued to look at his dark eyes- they were so dark they were almost black in color and they were surrounded by a field of thick lashes. His chocolate brown hair and eyebrows were dark enough to match the stubble that grew on his chin and around his full lips.

"I know," he finally spoke. "I guess time just got away from me." He jumped up to round the front of his desk and grab the reports from my hand, "What do we have going this week in the love and dating section?"

I took a step back so that I could look up at his face. He was tall, so without lifting my eyes to meet his, I would be face to face with his perfectly muscled chest.

"We have a lot this week and some people are teaming up together to experiment, but one of the topics that I think you'll really like is 'do glasses make a difference'?"

Dakota lifted his eyes from the files to meet mine. "Interesting. Can you elaborate?"

"Ellie and Rory are going to go to the clubs one night without wearing glasses and the next night wearing a big framed pair to see if the way they are treated or how they get hit on changes," I explained.

“Hm," he pondered, "Okay. I like that one."

I continued walking him through the remainder of our topics - "Is Chivalry Dead in 2022? Ways to Spot a Catfish on Tinder, Going Out With a ‘Heroin-Chic,’ What Gay Men Really Want, Try These Things on Your Significant Other..." I read.

"And I was thinking that I'd research the different stats on the dating sites. Like, what's the most common age group, race, gender, and overall success rate including Bumble, Tinder, F******k Dating, Coffee Meets Bagel, Hinge, and The League," I concluded.

He nodded in understanding, although I saw his eyebrows furrow as if he was deep in thought about something.

"Kyla, come take a walk with me," he finally said.

"Um... okay?" I agreed. I watched as he turned on his heel, walking slightly ahead of me as I tailed behind.

He stopped when he reached the stupid basketball hoop he had on the other side of the large room, picking up one of the balls.

"Here, catch," he shouted, as he quickly threw a small basketball at me.

"What the heck?!" I squealed, holding my hands out to catch it and squeezing my eyes tight.

Unfortunately, the ball bounced off my palm and went rolling back towards Dakota.

"See? You didn't expect that, did you?" He smirked.

"No. I definitely didn't," I huffed, unsure what he was getting at.

"And how do you feel?" He asked, stepping towards me, "Intrigued? Alert? Eager to hear more about why I threw that at you?"

"More like confused and waiting for you to make your point," I quipped.

"I'm just saying that what I just did was unexpected; ergo - not boring."

"So you're saying my idea is boring?" I asked, offended by his point.

"I'm saying," he said, holding up a lean finger, "that you don't ever write outside of your comfort zone."

I didn't know what to say so I just watched as he took even more steps towards me, closing the distance between us.

“Listen, Kyla. You're a great writer; I'd even say one of my best. BUT, you play it safe and only write stories based on research."

"Research is what I'm good at, Sir... I know how to find information a lot of people don't," I justified.

"I realize that, and that's great, but your articles haven't been very interesting lately. You write for "love and dating." These articles are supposed to be fun and personal; you're supposed to go out there and write about your own dating experiments and experiences. I mean... that is if you have any," he added, starting to walk away now back towards his desk.

I scoffed, following quickly behind him as I was even more defensive now. "Excuse me? Are you saying that I don't date? Because I do. I date."

"I stand corrected," he said, pulling out his chair to sit back down.

"I mean, I know I haven't had one in a little while, but..."

"Woah Kyla, it's none of my business what you do with your personal life," he cut me off. "But, it's your job to come up with something unique and interesting to write about, and a lot of the best stories come from people willing to put themselves out there."

"I..."

"Shhh..." he said, cutting me off again. "Take the weekend, really think about it, and bring me a pitch on Monday of something fun and personal."

"Um... okay. I'll try my best," I responded, feeling weirdly small standing here while he scrutinized me.

"No," he stated, "You are going to come up with something amazing, or you're fired."

"What?!" I exclaimed, my composure breaking. "Are you serious, Dakota?"

His eyes widened when I used his first name. "Yes. Be careful, Kyla. We may have a past, but I'm still your boss. Monday it is."

I had nothing else to say. I just nodded and walked to the elevator.

"Oh, and Kyla?" He called from behind me.

I turned to look at him; he was staring from where he sat at his throne.

"Happy birthday."