Chapter 2: Prestige Hotel

Vivian sighed in disbelief. No matter how many blind dates she rejected, her grandmother always had new ones lined up.

The men varied widely—chairmen of other groups, CEOs, lawyers, even the sons of famous actors. The age range was, however, fortunately generous, from twenty to thirty-five, but none had managed to capture Vivian's interest.

Exhaustion settled over her like a heavy rain. These endless meet-ups drained her more than any board meetings. Every man she met was either too shy, overly strict, boring, or a complete jackass.

It wasn't that Vivian hated the idea of marriage. On the contrary, she had once envisioned it with a hopeful heart. But her past weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't fully move on from the memories that haunted her to this day.

Her first love was a ghost she hadn't been able to exorcise, and it clung to her, making it impossible to open her heart to someone new.

She knew she wasn't ready to commit. If she were to enter a relationship now, she'd only bring her unresolved issues along, and that wasn't fair to anyone. The thought of dragging someone else into her emotional mess was unbearable.

"Mrs. Ahuja, do I have to go on this blind date?" Vivian asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

"Certainly, Ma'am," Mrs. Ahuja replied calmly, though internally, she was irritated by the recurring question. Her answer always remained the same, no matter how many times Vivian asked.

"Mrs. Ahuja, show some creativity. Can't you ever change your responses?" Vivian pressed the elevator button, turning to her only friend with a playful pout. She gracefully tucked her silky brunette hair behind her ear, a small gesture that hinted at her underlying fatigue.

"I don't have creativity, Ma'am," Mrs. Ahuja said, raising her head to meet Vivian's gaze. Her eyes were kind, but her tone was firm.

"Really?" Vivian crossed her arms over her chest, arching an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"I do not have any at work," Mrs. Ahuja corrected herself, her lips twitching into a faint smile.

Vivian rolled her eyes, cursing Sanvi's work ethic under her breath. When the elevator's doors opened with a soft 'ding,' she stepped inside, leaning against the cool metal wall.

The fatigue she had been holding at bay finally caught up with her, and she let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her responsibilities settle on her shoulders.

As the elevator descended, Vivian could only wait to quickly enter her car and go five kilometers away from the company building. Then, finally, she could get her friend back.

Immediately after they fulfilled the requirement, Vivian leaned her head on Mrs. Ahuja's shoulder. "I'm so tired," she murmured, her voice small and vulnerable, a stark contrast to the commanding presence she had maintained all day.

"You can't do that, Vivian. Your grandmother will be angry," Mrs. Ahuja said, trying to push Vivian's head off her shoulder, but Vivian clung to her stubbornly.

"I'm tired," she repeated, her eyes half-closed as she savored the brief moment of comfort.

"Me too," Sanvi admitted.

"Why?"

"It's been a long day. Please, let me go," Sanvi tried again, but Vivian remained resolute, her grip tightening.

"Never."

Sanvi sighed, giving up on her struggle to free herself from her friend/boss. "Do you want to see his photo?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Not interested," Vivian replied, her tone sulky as she turned her head to the beautiful wedded friend of hers, refusing to even talk on the blind date matter.

"Whatever," Sanvi muttered, moving her gaze away from Vivian, trying to enjoy the pleasant weather outside as a warm silence surrounded them. The sky had a soft blend of twilight colors, and the solid roads ran fast beneath them.

After a few moments of silence, Vivian suddenly spoke up. "What if I sent a con-artist in my place?"

Sanvi turned her head towards Vivian, her eyes wide in disbelief. "What? That's absurd! Where do you even come up with such ridiculous ideas?"

Vivian shrugged, a small smirk playing on her lips. "I read it in a webtoon."

Sanvi blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. "You're the CEO of a major fashion company, and you're still reading that stuff, moreover, even applying it in your life?"

Vivian nodded with a playful grin. "I never stopped reading them. They're entertaining."

Sanvi sighed, rubbing her temples as if warding off a headache. "Vivian, this is reality, not fiction. You can't just avoid reality by sending someone else to your blind date. You have to face it."

"But I don't want to," Vivian replied, her voice dipping into a childish whine. She turned away from Sanvi and instead diverted her attention to the outside view, clearly exhausted by the thought of yet another forced social encounter.

Vivian had grown increasingly weary of these blind dates—each one more tedious than the last. To her, these dates were nothing more than wasted opportunities to focus on her work, which had always been her true passion.

"Sanvi," Vivian called out softly, but Sanvi remained silent, perhaps hoping to avoid another round of complaints.

In a fit of rage, Vivian gently shoved Sanvi's arm away and leaned her head against the window, her breath fogging up the glass as she exhaled deeply. Sanvi, finally freed from Vivian's persistent clinginess, felt rather happy that she had finally been forgiven from her.

What bad luck Sanvi has! She's never been one to enjoy people clinging to her, yet, to her misfortune, Both—her best friend—and her husband are the clingiest people she has ever encountered.

Sanvi sighed, recognizing Vivian's action as a sign of something deeper. As they arrived at the grand entrance of the Prestige Hotel, where the blind date was arranged, Vivian stepped out of the car. Instead of taking Sanvi with her as she usually did, she turned to her with an strange serious expression.

"Stay in the car, Sanvi," Vivian instructed, her voice firmer than usual.