Chapter 1
“I know, Mom. I’m in front of the café. Call you later!” Emmanuel Lowe hung up impatiently. The twenty-eight-year-old had never been in a relationship. After seven years in the army, he’d retired and worked at a Yeringham hospital for three years as a gynecologist, earning eighty thousand dollars a year. Worried he’d end up alone, his mother had taken it upon herself to set him up on numerous blind dates—seventeen, to be exact. Alas, wedding bells remained elusive, and he felt he was merely going through the motions.
Just as he entered the café, he heard a weak cry for help. “Help! Someone help me!” He assisted the old man, who replied with a smile, “Thank you for your kindness!” Emmanuel noticed the incongruity: the man's tattered clothes contrasted sharply with his impeccably clean hands, suggesting a life of wealth. He had no time to investigate further; after ensuring the old man was unharmed, he rushed inside for his date.
The café was massive and labyrinthine. His mother had said his date was at table eight. While searching, he stumbled into a secluded area, softly lit, strewn with petals, and fragrant with flowers. He felt as if he'd entered a dream.
He froze. A beautiful, elegant woman sat at a table. She was breathtakingly perfect. She sipped her coffee, legs crossed, a copy of The Power Broker on the table. Upon noticing his abrupt entrance, her expression shifted to confusion and disgust. His heart pounded. In his twenty-eight years, he’d never felt such attraction. His work as a gynecologist had hardly sparked any romantic interest; he’d even questioned his attraction to women. This woman, however, was different.
Am I nervous, or am I already attracted to her?
He noticed a large "8" on her table. She's my blind date? Taking a deep breath, he approached and sat opposite her. Her expression grew increasingly flabbergasted, even hostile.
He ignored her. He introduced himself: “Hi! My name is Emmanuel Lowe. I’m twenty-eight, a gynecologist, I make eighty thousand a year, and I don’t own a car or a house.” His calm demeanor was remarkable.
She stared, then smirked. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mackenzie Quillen. I’m twenty-seven, with dual doctorates in finance and business administration from Harvard. I made three billion last year, and I have a car and a house.”
Emmanuel was stunned. What the heck is happening? He'd always assumed blind dates came with complications. Mackenzie, however, seemed flawless. Where’s the catch? He entertained various theories.
Mackenzie smirked at his perplexed expression. She'd deliberately intimidated him. Awkward silence followed.
He decided to persevere, at least to appease his mother. “I don’t make much, but if you decide to date me, I promise I’ll always protect and cherish you. I’ll do all the housework. Of course, I’ll maintain my masculine pride with my family. If we marry, I can give you five to six thousand a month.”
Mackenzie chuckled. She’d never met such a man.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked, unimpressed. “I know I don’t check all the boxes, but I’ll be a good husband!”
She continued to laugh.
Annoyed, he demanded, “Why are you laughing, Ms. Quillen? Don’t you think you’re being rude?”
“Sir, you’re a very good man!” she said coldly. “But I think you’re the confused one. I’m not here for a blind date!”
Emmanuel’s eyes widened. “Isn’t this table eight?”
“Yes, but this is the VIP area. You must be looking for table eight in the main dining area. Please go out and turn right!” She pointed.
Mortified, he apologized profusely and fled. How could I be so stupid?
Shortly after, an old man, escorted by four bodyguards, entered Mackenzie's private room. It was the man Emmanuel had helped!
He said, “Perhaps this is fate, Mackenzie. You’re twenty-seven, but your misandry has prevented relationships. But this young man succeeded! He's kind and just. He helped me outside, expecting nothing in return!”
The old man was Terence Quillen, chairman of Yeringham’s largest financial corporation. He’d lost three sons, leaving only daughters or no children. Mackenzie, his favorite granddaughter and heir to Terence Group, was intelligent and charismatic, but she was still a woman. Before he died, he wanted a great-grandchild. He'd faked his fall to find a suitable man for her.
Mackenzie remained unmoved. “Grandpa, he may have passed your test, but he hasn’t passed mine. I’ll marry him if he aces my test.” She wanted to fulfill her grandfather’s wish, but only if he was a good man.
Terence beamed. “All right! I’m sure he will pass your test!”