Thirty and Single.

Chapter 3.

My apartment wrapped around me like a familiar blanket. After I kicked my heels, I dropped my purse on the console table by the door and leaned against the wall, exhaling. The date with Owen had gone better than expected but also worse. Kind of like ordering your favourite dessert and realizing halfway through you've lost your taste for it.

With a sigh, I picked up my phone and called the one person who could always talk me through my emotional messes—my mother.

She answered after two rings.

"Hello baby girl! How are you?" Her voice was warm, melodic. It always made me feel like I was seven years old again.

I rubbed my forehead. "I'm fine, Mom. How are you?"

"Mmm, I'm fine. But I miss you, baby. You should come home this weekend."

I smiled faintly. "I miss you more. I'll try, okay? Can't promise, but I'll try."

There was a pause on the line. Then her tone shifted to something more teasing. "Are you still going on those dates?"

I chuckled. "Yes, actually. I just got home from one."

"Oooh. How was it?" Her curiosity was childlike. She lived for these updates.

"It was... okay." I took a deep breath. "But he has a kid."

"What's wrong with that? I thought you love kids."

"I do, Mama. I do," I said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of wine. "But I'm not ready to be a stepmom. It's a lot."

She went quiet for a second. Then came a long sigh. "So what did you tell the poor guy?"

I winced. "I told him I didn't see us getting together."

"Genesis!" she scolded, dragging out my name like only she could. "That sounded kind of harsh."

I didn't respond.

"Are you still planning on going on another date?"

"Yes. Tomorrow. With someone named Wyatt."

"Okay, darling. I hope you find what you're looking for. But remember, not everyone comes in perfect wrapping. Love sometimes sneaks in the side door." She yawned. "I'm feeling sleepy. Have a good night, baby. I love you."

"I love you too," I murmured, then hung up.

After the call, I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to picture Owen again. Tall, kind, emotionally mature... but also a father. And I wasn't ready to mother anyone. I knew that for sure.

Dinner was leftover Thai noodles I ate half heartedly in front of the TV. I answered a few emails from Quinn, my editor-in-chief and finally surrendered to sleep.

The Next Morning

I woke up early, grateful I hadn't stayed up scrolling Instagram until 2 AM for once. My morning routine was smooth shower, moisturizer, espresso, outfit. I didn't even second-guess my choice of a light grey blazer and wide-leg slacks. Classic. Powerful.

At the office, the energy was palpable. Something was buzzing in the air. I passed a few co-workers whose faces were lit with excitement, and the source became clear the moment I stepped into Quinn's office.

She looked up from her laptop, practically beaming.

"Genesis! Thank you so much for giving Brooklyn a chance. Her story is everywhere! We're getting calls from publishers, PR firms even a TV station."

I smiled. "She worked hard. I'm glad she's getting the recognition."

Quinn nodded, then leaned back in her chair. "She's not your assistant anymore. I want the two of you to co-develop stories from now on. I'll assign you a new assistant by next week."