Chapter 3

Sophie had just about recovered from the disaster that was Ethan's blind date when she received another text from him. Her stomach sank as she stared at the message.

Ethan D'Angelo: I'm officially done with the dating scene. You're booking my next one.

Sophie stared at her phone. Wait, what?

Ethan D'Angelo: You heard me right. No more blind dates. I need you to find someone that actually fits my... caliber.

Sophie rolled her eyes so hard she almost pulled a muscle. His caliber? Ethan couldn't even get through a meal without complaining about the food or the ambiance.

But she wasn't about to let that slide. She had already invested too much time and energy into these disastrous dates. Maybe a little "matchmaker" redemption was in order.

Before Sophie could respond, Ethan sent another message.

Ethan D'Angelo: And I'm going out for drinks with a few friends tonight. You should join us. You need to unwind after your hard work of failing my last date.

Sophie's fingers hovered over the keyboard as she debated. Join him for drinks? This could end in disaster, or it could be the perfect opportunity to make sure he realized his high expectations were the real problem.

She decided to go. The idea of getting out of the office and having a few laughs sounded too good to pass up. Plus, maybe she could guilt-trip him into accepting that maybe—just maybe—his ridiculous standards were making all these dates fail.

---

By the time Sophie arrived at the upscale lounge where Ethan had texted her to meet him, she was already regretting her decision. The place was one of those trendy spots with dim lighting, a crowd that made her feel like a fish out of water, and a drink menu that looked like a foreign language.

Ethan, of course, was holding court at a table in the corner, surrounded by friends who all looked like they were straight out of a professional photoshoot. Sophie sighed, making her way to the group. She wasn't sure which made her more uncomfortable—the fact that she was underdressed or the fact that Ethan's friends all seemed to be judging her existence with a single look.

"Hey, Sophie!" Ethan greeted her with a grin. "Glad you made it."

Sophie plopped down beside him, trying not to feel like a total misfit. "Nice crowd you've got here," she said, eyeing the group with raised eyebrows.

"I know, right? Everyone's so chill," Ethan said, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. "This is my buddy Marcus," he said, pointing to a guy in a suit who looked like he had stepped out of a business magazine. "And this is Elena," he gestured to a woman who had about a thousand-dollar handbag on the table. "And this is Julian," he nodded to the guy in the corner who was silently tapping away at his phone.

Sophie gave a nod of acknowledgment but couldn't help but feel out of place. She was pretty sure none of them had ever eaten instant noodles or survived an awkward family gathering where no one was allowed to speak.

"So," Ethan said, rubbing his hands together. "Marcus, Elena, Julian—this is Sophie, my professional matchmaker."

The group erupted into applause—loud and obnoxious. Sophie's face turned red. "Please, no applause. I just find people who are willing to tolerate Ethan's... 'charm.'"

Ethan smirked but said nothing. The drinks arrived, and Sophie took a long sip of her wine, trying to loosen up. This was supposed to be fun, right? Not some weird high-society hangout where everyone was trying to outdo each other with their wealth and connections.

"So, Sophie," Marcus said, leaning in with an eyebrow raised. "How exactly does one matchmake someone like Ethan?"

Sophie blinked. Matchmaking Ethan was a feat she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy. "Well, it's not easy," she said, trying to play it cool. "You basically have to sift through a thousand people who think they can handle his impossible standards. And then you pray for a miracle."

The table laughed, but it was clear that Marcus was intrigued. "I think we need a follow-up on that. What exactly are his 'standards'?"

Sophie grinned. This was going to be good. "Oh, you know. He only dates women who don't talk too much," Sophie said, making air quotes. "They must be super interested in his ideas but never ask any questions that might make him sweat. Oh, and they have to like his taste in music, which, trust me, is basically just classical music and smooth jazz."

The entire table stared at her. Ethan's face was frozen in a half-smile, but Sophie could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. "It's true!" she said, raising her glass in a toast. "I've never met someone so picky in my life."

Ethan let out a groan. "Sophie, you're killing me here," he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

Sophie laughed. "Come on, Ethan. You've got to admit, your taste in women is a little... over-the-top. You wouldn't date anyone who liked pineapple on pizza, right?"

Ethan's eyes narrowed, but then he cracked a grin. "I guess you have a point," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe I've been a little too picky. But honestly, Sophie, what am I supposed to do? I don't want to waste my time with someone who doesn't get me."

"Well, maybe," Sophie said with a sly smile, "you need to date someone who doesn't want to change you. The whole 'I'm perfect just the way I am' thing doesn't work for you, buddy."

Ethan gave her an incredulous look. "Oh, now you're going to tell me what I need?"

Sophie shrugged, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. "I'm just saying—if you want to stop wasting time on bad dates, maybe stop looking for the perfect one. Maybe you need to find someone who challenges you instead of just agreeing with everything you say."

Ethan looked at her for a long moment, as if he were trying to figure out if she was joking. Finally, he smiled. "Maybe you're right. But... I don't know if I'm ready for all that. I kind of like being in control."

Sophie leaned in. "Well, Ethan, guess what? You might not be in control for much longer."

The whole table went quiet. It was a casual statement, but it was enough to make the air feel thick with tension.

---

Later that night, as Sophie was walking out of the lounge, she felt oddly satisfied. Ethan hadn't come around on the "perfect date" thing yet, but maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to realize that his standards were a bit... too high.

As she stepped into the cool night air, Sophie made a mental note—tomorrow would be the day she really found out what made Ethan tick.

And she wasn't backing down until she got it.