One Shots

Be Mine, Dear Valentine

Night fell on Valentine's day, the most important Sunday of my year. I was on my way to the most awaited event by the elites. A yearly ball that is thrown in Saint Valentine's name which took place in a big mansion. Everyone important always attended. Known as the annual Valentine's Ball, this extravagant gathering held a special allure. Rumor had it that those who were single and graced the occasion had a higher chance of finding true love. Even the couples who frequented the event claimed that it strengthened their bonds.

For me, the purpose of attending went beyond matters of the heart. As a business owner, this was an opportunity to meet potential clients and expand my network. Accompanied by my friend Ivee, who shared my enthusiasm for celebrating singlehood, we reveled in the festivities. However, despite my involvement in orchestrating the event and the enjoyment it brought, there was always a lingering sense of emptiness within me. The elusive feeling of finding true love remained unfulfilled, and I couldn't comprehend why. Yet, a part of me felt compelled to return each year, not only to be present but also to ensure everything ran flawlessly.

As the person responsible for overseeing the event, I worked closely with the contractors and our dedicated team members. Together, we strived to create an atmosphere that exuded both allure and enigma. Every nook and cranny of the venue was meticulously adorned, designed to evoke a sense of intrigue. We aimed to ignite the belief that anything could transpire on this momentous night, particularly when it came to the centerpiece of the evening: Cupid's Shot.

This specially concocted elixir had gained a reputation for its mystical powers. Countless singles seemingly discovered their soulmates before the clock struck midnight. Though I had never indulged in the drink myself, a part of me couldn't help but contemplate whether I should succumb to its tempting allure. The lingering question of whether I would be able to resist its pull remained uncertain.

Looking at my phone, I noticed Ivee's recent message, asking if I would go through with it this year. As best friends we made a pact the previous night after a few drinks, but doubts had crept in.

The limousine ride seemed interminable, yet texting Ivee, effortlessly passed the time. The moment to disembark from the limo fast approaching.

Checking my phone again, Ivee's latest message revealed her imminent arrival, along with the unexpected revelation of setting me up on a blind date. Just what I needed – an additional challenge of interacting with a stranger.

Stepping out gracefully, I clung to the elegant train of my vibrant red dress.

"Good evening, Madam Scarlett," greeted the host attendant's manager, one of my diligent employees. He presented me with a white mask, as was customary for females at this event, while males wore black masks.

"Jordan! Everything looks splendid!" I expressed my satisfaction. He took hold of my hand and led me towards the grand entrance.

"Everything has been executed precisely as you requested, boss," he replied, matching my stride as I allowed my dress train to gracefully cascade behind me, still clutching onto his arm.

"I appreciate your meticulous management of affairs here. It's of utmost importance," I acknowledged.

I noticed a newfound longing in his gaze, a look I had never witnessed before.

"Is everything alright?" I inquired.

"Certainly, Madam."

"Then why the melancholic expression? Has someone been giving you trouble?"

"No, not at all. It's just that walking alongside you has made me yearn for the chance to experience an event like this with a lady as enchanting as you," he confessed.