Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once an idea was formed in Bertha's mind, little could she or anyone do to make it go away. So it was really unfortunate that her sister decided to make Bertha question her life's choices on her own birthday no less. She was Bertha O'Brien, handsome, clever and rich. Insanely rich. Her company's worth was around 740 million and it was the largest and most successful matchmaking business on the east coast, second in America. Most important of all, Gilded X gave her satisfaction like nothing else; she was yet to find something that could give her such a fulfilling sensation as a match well done.

Bertha has been popular since her childhood and her social circle had never stopped growing. Her good grades that had driven everybody's attention turned out to be good insights for almost everything in her life. She was smart and everyone knew and valued her opinion because of it. And if she was right about almost everything, then Bertha couldn't blame others for seeking her advice. It didn't hurt that she knew what looked good on her and used that in her favor. There was merit to that no matter how much George Russell liked to accuse her of being vain. She was also a great conversationalist; even better, she was able to extract good information from the most mundane chat. Well, almost always, since Mrs. Forte insisted on boring her to death talking non stop about her dog, the weather and her beloved niece with so much detail every time she showed up at Gilded X’s office that Bertha simply had no use for all those dull facts.

All of that meant nothing in the end if it was not put to a good use. And there wasn't a more noble cause than making someone find their better half. At the end of the day, Bertha was doing a favor to the universe by putting all her good and sharp skills to multiply marriage ratings in Mannathan. And if people wanted to generously reward her for it, so be it. The exacting after the first date, an extended glance between the new couple, their bright smiles after the proposal and even their recommendation to friends were nice and all, but Bertha didn't accomplish 630 weddings by being just lucky. She was really good at her job, so she wouldn't feel shame for being extremely well paid for it.

*

It all started when her sister Monica'd decided to pay a surprise visit. The thing was Monica sucked at surprises, so Bertha already knew she was coming to celebrate her birthday even though, for marketing reasons, the foundation of the company and Bertha O'Brien’s birthday all happened on the same day. And by pure luck it was also on Valentine's Day. Still, her sister came on the correct date with balloons, a huge cake for all the employees and her sweet son, too. But Larry coming meant that his boss would be there as well. George Russell had the annoying skill of being present on Bertha's worse moments, not only being a witness but enjoying the whole thing, just because, according to his own words: it pleased him watching her overconfidence mask fall off.

She still didn't mind George, really. Aside from Monica, he was the most constant person in her 37 years of life. They had met in elementary school and hadn't parted ways since, having similar backgrounds and matching each other's ambitions. His strong will made him one of the richest men in the country all by himself; he had turned what once was just a hobby of playing with zeros and ones into a huge conglomerate that was now the Russell's Enterprises. Bertha followed his business' growth quite closely, noticing how every year the company tripled its size. She was even proud of that because they'd launched their firms together, and designing and coding Gilded X’s first social media had been George's first gig. They both had seen an opportunity in the unexplored market of social platforms twenty years ago and couldn't have been more right about it. 

There weren't many reasons to dislike George Russell. But no matter how much her sister tried to make her remember that he had always helped them, either with Bertha's projects or with Larry when he was a handful baby, all she could think about was his never ending disapproving glance and that he turned his nose up at everything Bertha said or did. Nothing she did seemed to be good enough for him. It was quite a shame really, since they worked so well together pushing each other to be and do better every single time. Bertha patiently waited for the day she would finally convince him that matchmaking wasn't the nonsense he believed it to be. It was business like everything else. And as foolish as it could sound, once in while she imagined how it would be like to be seen by him as his equal. 

By knowing that the party would inevitably happen, Bertha was more than ready: she had prepared it. Pretty much like every single detail of her life, Bertha wouldn't leave things to chance, the party had to be craftily arranged even though it was supposed to be a surprise.

She'd managed to let the office seem presentable enough to appear on camera one day prior, because of course she would let the marketing team film the whole thing and post it on social media. The cheerful and blissful environment was part of the brand, so little moments like this were important to sell what she offered. As for her outfit, she went with something casual as if she was just stopping by like she has been doing lately because, unfortunately, as Gilded X grew, her duties departed her from the actual matchmaking work. Still, she looked glamorous in a winter mini dress and knee high boots that no doubt would receive compliments. And just to be sure no accidents would happen, Bertha'd dropped little hints to Monica to ensure she would buy a cake without strawberries (Marian was allergic to them) and sugar free (Church had prediabetes and Adelheid was following a crazy and restricted new diet).

“Go on, aunt Bee, make a wish!” Her nephew demanded, breaking Bertha's train of thought. She probably had spent too much time thinking about birthday wishes and people were starting to notice. So unlike her… and worst, it was all on camera. It wasn't even a question about what she really wanted, Bertha O'Brien not only knew what she wanted, she had her whole life planned and she was already getting there before her forties. Besides that, Bertha also wanted a trip to Amalfi Coast, jewelry so expansive that she wouldn't have an occasion to wear it and a private box at the opera. 

What had really bothered her was what happened after she humbly, and like everyone else was supposed to do, said she didn't need to make any wishes because her life was already perfect. Then, Bertha'd made the mistake of looking at Monica. She hadn't rolled her eyes like George, that Bertha could take. What her older sister had done was much worse: she had arched one of her eyebrows in a true sign of dare, as if she was not only questioning Bertha's certainty, but knew that her sister's life was lacking something.

Since then Bertha has been trying to find the merit in her sister's look toward her. Meanwhile, she blew off the candles quickly, wished to finally buy a home, although she found it charming to rent a condo and didn't need to move just yet, and chatted with her friends. 

The ever competent Alice Bruce was leaving them, first for a honeymoon in Paris and then to wherever her life as the wife of a five stars chief would lead her. Bertha couldn't understand how someone was willing to give up on everything they already had for a life of uncertainty, especially one that was so attached to a husband. But Bertha was reasonable enough to admit that part of her desliking was a result of resentment of losing a dear friend. Alice was a sensible woman who knew what she was doing. Besides, Bertha had helped them to get together, so she ought to get happy about it. She would eventually, she would even cry in the ceremony because of it.

Peggy was finishing an assessment about women’s reproductive rights. She divided her time between work at Gilded X and a freelance job in a magazine where she also served as a secretary, all that while using her free time to write a novel. Peggy Scott was the only person Bertha knew that somehow managed a schedule as busy as her own. Usually the conversation would please her, and Bertha would even offer her own arguments in support of Peggy and Monica's. The two women seemed to be determined to shock Church with their liberal positions on motherhood. But Bertha's mind was elsewhere, so it was easier to pretend to listen to whatever Mrs. Forte was saying. Something about a museum it seemed. It was tedious enough to allow her to figure out if there was something lacking in her life.

Monica has always been critical of her youngest sister's self-assurance, it was why she and George were so very good friends. They even ganged up against Bertha on occasion. A terrible example for Larry, who seemed to have inherited his mother's thoughts on the topic. All of them had mistaken confidence for cockiness.

Her sister had to be wrong, Bertha's life was perfect. Money was not the problem, she was financially stable. Yeah, it could be better; she wasn't a billionaire, but for daughters of a nurse that raised two kids on her own she and Monica were doing more than fine. If she could be as wealthy as someone like George even in a business like hers was yet to be seen. But Bertha had no complaints on the topic, she was considered rich by anyone who had eyes to see. Her lifestyle was to die for, which was reinforced by the invitation for an interview about the daily routine of a Mannathan businesswoman that was on her desktop waiting to be answered. Bertha was a beauty, she wore pretty clothes, she attended the most prestigious events in the city and, most importantly, it wasn't just for show, she really enjoyed the whole thing.

Her work had changed through the years. Lately she hasn't had time to even check if the matches her team were doing were great, but she trusted their good judgment and left them alone to make the calls. Although she missed it terribly, Bertha had more important things to do, after all Gilded X didn't sell just marriage, but romance itself. Finding a compatible candidate for a client was just 70% of the job, that's why her company also arranged the first dates for the clients, finding places and activities that would make each half of the couple shine and present their better selves to one another. They were even responsible for arranging wedding ceremonies sometimes. For that she had to make partnerships with restaurants, clubs, art galleries and other sort of crazy spots that were trending at the moment. Strange as it could sound, gyms were the hottest point of the season and Bertha's latest headache was trying to make a date work in a place like that.

Her company had come so far. It had its ups and downs but she wouldn't change it for the world. And if she ever got upset or bored directing the business that she so well built, all she had to do was behold the mural of achievements full of weddings portraits and tokens her team had thoughtfully gathered through the years celebrating Gilded X’s 630 marriages, and counting. Not even a catholic priest could claim to have celebrated that amount of ceremonies in fifteen years of work these days. It was a hell of an achievement and Bertha was forever proud of it.

And it wasn't just the quantity; some of these marriages were even on the news. Some of them had stuck with her, not only because she’d picked them herself, but because she’d watched them fall in love little by little. It was beautiful. The special ones were highlighted with a golden picture frame. The first one, of course: Aurora and Charles Fane, a match made in heaven, were so grateful that they'd invested in her company and Bertha had used the profit to help her sister finance med school. The other notable ones were: an ambassador's daughter and a politician; two tennis rivals players; the Cinderella fairytale love story of Oscar Vanjhin and Enid Turner; and a subcelebrity and his long lost high school sweetheart.

It has been a while since she had such a huge and notorious wedding. Maybe it was that: she needed a new big project. Well, there was always her dream of expansion. Being a company as huge as hers and not having its own building really bothered her. 

There was also the oddity of her love life. It was actually quite amusing: Bertha was a matchmaker who couldn’t manage to have a long-term boyfriend. Her nephew accused her of having impossible standards, but she wouldn't settle for less than perfection. For her, an ideal partner would be someone who would be equal in every aspect of her life, not just a guy that could make her feel good from time to time. That she could find easily; love, on the other hand…

Bertha knew how love worked. She wouldn't be good at her job if she didn't. Love was fitting, and not convenience. It was belonging. She knew passion, too, it was a part of the equation as important as chemistry and the first spark, but none of those items mattered if two people weren't well suited. Their goals had to align, their morals had to be linked. Love came from that, from finding someone who had the exact same worldview, so they could walk through life in the same direction, together.

From an early age Bertha’d been quite sure of that and her first marital deal had proved her rightfulness on the topic. She had been twelve when she interfered in a marriage, not by doing the match, but by arranging a divorce. Her parent's divorce. Monica and Bertha's father was a drunk man that had never managed to secure a steady job throughout his life. Worst of all, it’d never occurred to him that that was a problem. Somehow, her mother had loved him despite all his flaws, as she used to say. She wouldn't leave him no matter how awful he could get. And why was that? Because neither of them could change, the foundation of their bond was their steadfulness. They would be forever trapped in a marriage like that if it wasn't for their youngest daughter.

What she’d done to accomplish that was quite simple. All relationships had cracks, no matter how perfect they seemed to be (and her parents were far from it), so all she had to do was find the thing that would make theirs get off balance. For her mother it was distance. As for her father, he was a greedy man, that was all. One day, she’d convinced him that his life would be easier without a family to feed in a place like Vegas, where money and booze would be more effortless to find than in a small town; on the next day, he'd vanished. Her mother had been devastated for months, but eventually she got over it. 

Mrs. Forte had stopped talking. She was now paying attention to the heated discourse Peggy was promoting, everyone in the room seemed to have their own opinions about it. Some of them were even shouting, yeah, it was a terrible idea to let Larry open a bottle of sparkling wine. Everyone was happy with one exception: the birthday girl. 

Bertha didn't have the faintest idea of what they were talking about and wasn't in the mood for joining them. Tempted as she was to call it a day, she didn't want to disturb the celebration. Maybe she could go to her office and pretend that she was looking at some contracts, they would think that she was working and leave her alone.

Before she could do that, George got close to her. Bertha was sitting at some table, a plastic plate with forgotten cake on it, not a very ladylike posture, maybe that was why he was smiling. Still it took him some time to finally say something after he casually bumped their shoulders.

“So…” He began and then looked at her right in the eye. Oh, she was definitely showing that something was disturbing her. It was all written on her face and George was studying it. Once he was satisfied with what he learnt from her expression, he continued. “Did you just get your roots done?” 

“What?” Another major reason for her disliking towards George Russell was definitely the fact that he was one of the three people on the entire planet who knew she wasn't naturally blonde. And he loved to tease her about it. “I can't believe you are so pleased with yourself for asking me that!” 

“So you did.”

“Get out! If you came here just to act smug like this, you can leave already.” And like always they were bickering. They just couldn't help themselves, Bertha found it really annoying.

“Fine. What do you need?”

Now that's a way to start a conversation, she thought. George was like her, he didn't mind talking about business at a party so she went right to the point. “Well, fix your app to begin with!”

“The app is fine. I rode the test simulations myself, the new update is ready to be launched next week.”

“I'm changing that. I want to do a soft launch for the Valentine's Day Party. It's way more appropriate on that day.”

“Bertha, the app is ready. Your matchmakers could even start using it today if you wanted to.”

The matchmaking business has been tricky lately. Everyone and their mother had an opinion about it, although the clients themselves sought a professional on the topic to help them find love. They submitted to it, but didn't want to trust the matchmaker’s instincts and talents, they wanted to be convinced by them. And if words were too subjective for their taste, then Bertha and her team would present numbers.  

In that way, the customers were very much like George. He was a practical man who didn't believe a person outside of the couple could see what they couldn't and help them get together. And it was thinking of him that the idea of the newest app expansion had occurred to her. It would measure the couple's compatibility based on their profiles, nothing new on the market; its uniqueness laid on the well crafted and detailed survey that would make the algorithm know the person from the inside out, adding Bertha’s insights to the analysis.

It had to be precise, and for that George and Bertha had spent every other weekend of the last eight months running through every aspect of it. It was exhausting work, she had to elaborate an infallible questionnaire and also imagine a lot of scenarios to answer George's skeptical interrogation. What should be lower: that person A disliked cats and B was a cat person or C had kids and A didn't want to be a parent? Well, it depends! Very much like Bertha, he was a meticulous person and she appreciated his dedication. It had to be like this, because he would spend the next working days exclusively writing the algorithm just to show her his progress two weeks later.

Now that it was finally over, Bertha even missed the nights they’d spent eating chinese food and working together in George's expansive penthouse. Some days he'd indulge her and let her explain her matchmaking process and even share his honest opinion about it. Usually a night like that would finish with both of them drinking too much coffee and trying to get some work done until the sun was rising because in the small hours they had gotten caught up in an argument about dating or what was even love in the first place and didn't get any work done. Other nights, their daily routines were so stressful that they would not even try, they would just keep each other company, watch a trashy movie or a reality show and see if they would be willing to do some work later on.

George loved to brag about her pridefulness, but he was just the same when it came to his business. Because of that, Bertha decided to try a new approach: make him accept that there was a flaw in his algorithm without hurting his ego. “There is a bug in the app George.” She didn't understand most of the programmer slang that he and Larry used all the time, but she attempted to use his language in order to prove her point. “See it for yourself.”

Bertha unlocked her phone and showed it to him. At the moment there were only two profiles registered on the expansion, hers and George's. It was for a test, of course, but Bertha took the task seriously and had answered the questionnaire as if she was one of her own clients. She imagined George had responded with the frankness he always had. Better not to think about the result right now…

The result popped on the screen and, like had happened when she tested it before, the outcome was the same: 100% compatibility.

“Like I said, it's working.” George said, clearly annoyed. He looked at the screen, then to her again, trying to make sense of it. Did he just get flushed? Bertha wondered. Well, she couldn't stand the silence that came after any longer, if the mistake was hers he wouldn't waste a second before throwing it at her face.

“There cannot be 100% compatibility!”

“How come? Is it not you who always says that you make perfect matches? 100% is perfection.”

“No one is 100% compatible with another person. Only if … I don't know, only if they're the same person.” Then she remembered their arguments. For George, love either was there or wasn't; it all came down to zeroes and ones. This whole thing wasn't his fault, really. He was just a rational man who mastered the art of binary thinking. “It's not as precise as coding. It's something in between, it has to be nuanced, George”

“Fine…” He accepted and even stopped frowning his face, losing his severe expression. “99,5% works for you?” 

“Perfect.” 

Then she lost him. George started typing super fast on his phone. No doubt he would solve the problem in an instant. “So, what can I do for you?” That was their thing since elementary school: they helped each other. 

“Actually, there's something. My sister is coming back.”

“Gladys is coming back? Is she visiting or…”

“She's coming to stay.” George said, not as excited as she was, but with a genuine and lovely smile; he adored that girl. For nineteen years, George Russell had been the only child of a train driver, then out of the blue his father had showed up with a baby in his arms just to pass away before seeing his youngest child celebrate her second birthday. The siblings weren't necessarily close; George was an adult rising his own empire by the time his sister had arrived in his life and hadn't had much time to look after the little girl. Because of that, when Gladys was fourteen and asked to live with some relatives from her mother's side in England, all he could do was wish her good luck and sent a monthly allowance. “She wants to have an authentic American college experience. But you know how Gladys is, she is not sure about almost everything in her life. I invited her to spend some time learning how things are done at Russell’s before she decides what to do in college, but she turned down my offer.”

“Let me guess: the only thing she knows is that she doesn't like coding.” Bertha teased and George pretended to be offended by it. “What can I do to help?”

“You could take her under your wing, show your work…”

“You want your little sister to be one of my matchmakers?”

“No, not like that. It could be an internship, Gladys likes management. Beyond that, you could use some assistance. There's no need for you to exhaust yourself with so many meetings.”

“Says Mr. Workaholic himself.” It could be good. No, it was actually perfect. Bertha needed time to figure out if her sister's accusation was right or not. In the meantime, she could use her free time to make a new match, an enormous one, since she so very much missed the old times. “Go on, propose that to your sister, then.”

“With one condition: she's your employee and not another candidate for your matches.”

“George, there's a no dating policy in my company. My employees can’t even date amongst themselves, it's against the rules.”

“Okay, then. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

By Saturday, Bertha shortened her list of possible motives of unhappiness to two items: either she was working too much or there was something she could still achieve but hasn't figured out just yet. Testing her first hypothesis would be easy from now on, all she had to do was spend a whole week shaping Gladys into her perfect replacement and then Bertha could enjoy her much deserved free time. And as tempted as she was to finally sign up for pilates classes, she got the impression that what Monica was implying with that look was something more introspective. Although a confrontation between sisters was yet to happen, Bertha was sure her older sister meant that she should improve by seeing beauty in small things or focusing on intrinsic goals. Well, then I'll start jogging in the park and admire weeds disrupting the symmetry of the concrete… Or something like that…

The last option gave a bitter taste in her mouth. It felt like a failure just to think about it. And Bertha O'Brien hadn't been defeated in years. The last time happened in college when she naively thought she could do an exam with a massive hangover. It was years ago and the lesson was learnt: no alcohol in her system before and during important tasks.

It was an upsetting feeling to not know herself well enough to point out what was overwhelming her mind. Because there was something. Bertha reluctantly had come to that conclusion in the days after her birthday party. If it wasn't she wouldn't pay so much attention to it. She was even getting stressed by it. And no wonder she was, being aware of her wants and needs was one of her main traits since childhood. She has even been praised for it. And now she was getting concerned, paranoid even.

So the best conclusion Bertha'd come up with was: distract herself with a big project. If she didn't think about it the problem wouldn't exist at all.

She needed to remind herself why she loved making matches so much. Supervising her employees would be an option, but what Bertha was really looking forward to was making a match in old school style. Helping people that had subscribed to get help in their love lives was nice and all, but to be able to realise that two random people would be good to one another just by knowing them, that's was the real deal. That was what she was going to do.

But first, Gladys.

“So glad you could make it!” Bertha greeted her. Although they were on a weekend, it was best to make her intern acquainted with the company's crazy schedules right from the start. Friday nights and Saturdays were Gilded X’s most important days, eight out of ten of their arranged dates happened on weekends. Therefore, there was work to be done before, after and sometimes even during them. On occasion they would even work on Sundays, either to keep an eye on a date or give a report of one that happened the day prior. By Monday her matchmakers should be ready to present results about it. It was demanding and that was why the subscriptions were so expensive.

If Gladys was bothered by it she didn't seem to show it. Actually, she looked exactly like the last picture on her profile on Instagram. Very much like her age, even though her brother insisted on talking about, and probably treating, her as if she was a toddler. She was eighteen and her giggly persona helped to paint an image of naivety. But Bertha knew better, behind those warm Russell eyes was a sharp mind very much like George's.

“Since when do you drive?” Gladys asked just to prove Bertha's growing insecurity.

“Well, I don't. At least not when I'm in the city.” Even someone who last saw her on Chrmistmas was noticing that Bertha's behavior was off. It was beyond annoying. It was as if her confidence was slipping through her fingers. The thing was: she had to pay a visit to her flower supplier; Gladys needed some getting used to the work at the company; and, in the meantime, the one hour drive would serve as contemplation time. Therefore she'd rented a car and had spent the whole journey stressing out about the current state of her life and her second birthday party in a row that would happen later on.

“Besides, driving thoughts has its benefits, that's not what people say?” Gladys didn't seem to agree, in fact she looked as if she couldn't understand Bertha at all.

“You should have said you were going by yourself so we could have come together! I would have saved the money on the Uber ride.”

Bertha chuckled. Gladys liked to act as if she wasn't a billionaire heir. It was like she was still a teenager living in the London suburbs with her aunt and four male cousins. The simple girl spirit was in her looks too, she was definitely wearing something an older person suggested her to use in a job interview. Her almost zero sense of fashion was charming really, Bertha thanked her lucky stars she was with sunglasses and could put on a poker face once she laid her eyes on Gladys’ full outfit. She was wearing a white shirt, jeans that ended above the ankle and flat shoes. Bertha would have been able to say she disliked the whole thing if she didn’t think the golden chain with tiny pearls was a nice touch to her look.

Next time I'll be hyperbolic and say we're going to a farm! Hector's cottage definitely wasn't a farm, but it was in the countryside and Bertha expected Gladys to understand that she should have aimed for something casual by texting they would visit some flower fields.

“We can go back together then.” Maybe it was luck what happened after, but Bertha knew better: it was the universe saying she was right once again. I'm not losing it, after all… Gladys started to shiver and a thought crossed Bertha's mind. She took off the oversized lavender coat she was wearing and offered it to George's sister. “Take it. February's weather is no good for anyone.”

“But what about…” Bertha didn't let her continue offering the coat again. Seeing Gladys wearing it made her question even why she had chosen it in the first place. It had nothing to do with her jumpsuit, maybe just a little… But purple and its hues had never been one of the colors that favored Bertha O'Brien. On Gladys, however, it was perfect. It made her severe look become effortlessly cool.“ Lavender is definitely your color! It suits you.”

“You think so?” She was beaming with the compliment. And just like that she had become a little more confident in her own skin. “Thank you!”

“You're welcome, Gladys.” How Bertha enjoyed helping others blossom, not just with love but flourishing in every aspect of their lives. “Now, let's talk about business. You must be wondering why I have brought you here. Aren't you?”

“George had mentioned that sometimes you do weddings so maybe we're going to look for possible venue candidates?”

“I keep telling Hector that he should allow me to do engagement parties or wedding receptions here! It's a lovely place, isn't it? And you only saw his front yard, wait until you see the other gardens and the apple orchard.” They got around the Victorian styled house, with Bertha leading the way. Hector was expecting them at the conservatory. “But to answer your question: no, that's not why we're here. First of all, I need to help my client make a good impression on his third date, but he thinks the woman he is seeing isn't the romantic type. He's right…” Bertha smiled pleased with herself; knowing both of them by their profiles, she knew Jack and Bridget would be a thing real soon. “He suggested exotic flowers so that's what I'm going for. And Hector is the right man for the job. Which leads us to the second reason: each supplier is different. Some of them prefer to have a strict relationship and solve most problems by email. But others are not so formal, some of them would even invite you to have coffee while bargaining prices. Once we're at my office I'll show you my list of them and we'll talk through it, but I must warn you it's quite long.”

Gilded X offered all kinds of services, each new one more unique than the last. And to make that possible Bertha has met a fair amount of people through the years. None of them were more peculiar than Hector Vere. He had been her customer first, then became a business partner and now was a dear friend.

She had met him when he was terribly young and pretending to be some careless British tourist. Hector had wasted his money lying to her when they first sat down to talk about hiring her matchmaking services, which had made her task of finding him a girlfriend nearly impossible. But Bertha had seen right through his lies, and by the time he had rejected another candidate after only the first date she snapped. She couldn't care less whether they spent a decade in this game of pretending, he was paying for it after all, but Bertha had always hated playing dumb. So she had not only told him he was making a fool of himself but offered him help.

He was only in the beginning of his twenties, clearly runwaying away from something. It had taken some time for him to open up. First she had helped him settle down and make a life for himself in a foreign country. Once Hector left the hotel he was living in and bought a house he finally admitted: he was actually the heir to a dukedom and had left England because he wasn't ready to assume his duties just yet.

She’d laughed at his face. Not like she did when Hector had nervously confessed to her that he knew a little bit of botany and wanted to open a flower shop and Bertha’d burst into laughter but supported him like a real friend would do; this time she’d done it hysterically with tears in her eyes. It had been so absurd back then that not even a cheap romance novel would have come up with a story like that. They were in the twentieth first century, for God’s sake. But all of that was true, she’d googled it right after and it was all there. Hector Vere, youngest child of the Duke of Buckingham, heir of Sidmouth Castle. If only he’d told me that sooner… What an acquisition that would have been for Gilded X, to be responsible for the wedding of the Duke of Buckingham.

Now it was all water under the bridge, Hector had cancelled his subscription and moved out of New York resigned to dedicate his life to his true passion: gardening. Boring as it could sound, Bertha hadn’t much of a say on the matter so she had done, once again, what any friend would: supported him. Even better, she helped him turn that hobby into a business.

Bertha was about to start a small talk with Gladys. Maybe mention that she and Hector would probably get along since he was British, or tell her what would be her first duties as intern on Monday. Does the girl know anything about Accounting? Bertha wondered… But before she could start, George's sister surprised her.

“Isn't cheating what you do? You know both parties, their likings, maybe even their most intimate desires, that's not the motto of the company? Finding the pair suitable for your dreams? So by having all that information in advance you're manipulating them to get along. And since you're getting paid for it there's a personal advantage factor here. You need to do the match and in order to achieve that you make your client John Doe aware of Miss Jane Doe’s preferences so he can charm her. You're tricking them to like one another.”

“Gosh, you're just like your brother!”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn't! Well, most of the time it's a compliment. But you're working for me, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“Then convince me of that and I'll be.” Like I said, just like George.

“First of all, you can say their names, it's not forbidden, you know? We can discuss our clients between ourselves. I encourage it even, it's always good to have a second or a third opinion when you do a match.” Especially if I am the one being consulted. “John Doe is Jack Trotter, he’s an engineer, and Bridget is a lawyer. Both of them requested Gilded X’s services, they're aware of the fact that our matchmakers know them from inside out, they very much want that. You know why? Because going blind on a date these days is tricky, people don't want to waste their time and money going out just to find out the person they are investing in is boring or unpleasant. So we do heavy work and filter the candidates for them.”

“But you must admit that what you do is manipulative. Jack is only looking for exotic flowers because you let him know Bridget'll like it. And don't get me started with your friend being the one who's selling the flowers…”

“Wow, not even your brother had accused me of such a thing. At least he knows it's all business. Gilded X’s subscribers can get discounts in outlets associated with my brand, such as Hector's. It's what I do: I simplify interactions between two parties, introduce them either for a transaction or for a date.” Which in the end is almost the same thing. “As for sharing personal information, I don't need to tell you that's forbidden. Against the law even. I only said that Jack is right, Bridget isn't the romantic type, she had too many disappointments in her life for that. He got the impression already after the second date, but he wants to give her something memorable and knows roses won't do. I'm just helping him, the rest is all his doing. If he wanted to gift her with pastries I would suggest a place in Tribeca that is associated with Gilded X. Hector being my friend is just a coincidence”

“But still, it kind of loses its magic… They already know they're alike or the person in front of them has the singularities they look for in a partner.”

“What you call magic, I call it a tiresome task. My business is no different from a person setting up two friends on a date. We both already know their preferences.”

Bertha knew Gladys was almost convinced, she was just too stubborn to give up. Definitely a Russell family trait. “I bet you wouldn't submit yourself to something like this to find your soulmate.”

“Of course I would. Whenever I'm ready to find the one I will submit myself to it… What kind of CEO would I be if I didn't trust my own services?” Then, to wrap up the whole discussion Bertha asked. “Gladys, tell me what you think love is? In the romantic sense, of course.”

“Well, to me love is… I don't know, I believe people are meant to be.”

“Me too. Love'll find the way no matter what… but in the meantime why do we have to leave things by chance if we can make it happen sooner? I don't have time for that, neither do my clients.”

*

It had taken Jack one hour to finally decide what he was going to buy for Bridget. For Bertha, it had felt like at least three hours inside of that conservatory, trying to make sense of her client’s wishes through his text messages. Hector had done his best, always ready to follow her lead but one can only take so many wavering commands before exploding. Once both of them had lost their patience with Jack (even Gladys, easygoing as she was, had gotten exasperated by it), Bertha had decided to make a video call and the problem was solved.

In the end, Trotter had opted for a dwarf blackberry because a bouquet was a lifeless thing that would last a week going straight into the trash, while giving Bridget a living plant meant longevity. Bertha found the whole thing really cute, it had even made her feel better after the wearing task they had. Luckily, Hector farmed all short of fruits and veggies and she had found a lovely pot and even a nice bow to wrap up the whole thing.

In the meantime she'd gotten the time to do a must required catch up with her friend. Hector was doing fine, he had paid his relatives a visit and they seemed less bothered by his life choices. Bertha, on the other hand, had talked about how business was doing well, so good that she might have started to plan her first vacation ever.

Now that everything had worked out, it would be time for them to have some coffee and enjoy the countryside view. The whole trade could be sorted out by an email, but it wouldn't be so satisfying. From both sides, Bertha O'Brien liked to get things done by herself and her customers very much appreciated her attentiveness. Instead, she was on her phone trying to make sense of what Marian Brook was saying to her. It was nearly impossible since the poor girl was crying.

Marian Brook wasn't one of her top 5 best matchmakers, but the girl was one of the most committed employees Gilded X had. She liked to take her time with the clients, that was why she only selected one couple at time. It could take her a year, but she would get those two to walk down the aisle. As paradoxical as it could sound, Bertha believed that kind of ability could only come from a person who was both down to earth and hopelessly romantic in equal measure.

Like most young women who ended up being a matchmaker, Marian started working during college not sure which career she would follow. After a series of unfortunate events that had left her an orphan, penniless and with zero trust in men, Marian had found herself with little prospect in life. However, she never complained about it, always being eager to surround herself with work.

Bertha knew all those facts not through Marian herself, but by Miss Andre and Mamie Fish’s talking; her marketing staff had always been more committed to gossiping than selling her brand. By all means, the fact was: Bertha and Marian had a respectable relationship, she insisted on calling Bertha boss and, most importantly, the younger one had never crossed the work boundaries by calling her employer’s personal number as she was doing right now.

“...I know everybody had a story to tell about him. But even if those things Mamie says are true, they still aren't so bad, you know? He's young, of course he likes to go to parties! There's no problem in that and he was so attentive with me and seemed so sure about his feelings that I thought… I thought that maybe this time I have found the one. And, yeah, Peggy told me I should be more careful after so many frustrations…”

“Marian, who's he?”

“Your nephew Larry!” What? Oh, she was going to kill him…

“What exactly has my nephew done to you?”

“Aren't you listening?”

“Marian you're sobbing and there's so much noise around you that it is easier to hear sirens than your voice. Are you in the middle of Times Square or something?” And if she was getting a little distracted by Gladys and Hector softly speaking to each other, who could blame her? Bertha was dying to know what they were talking about. She loved to be proven right.

“Sorry, boss…”

“It's okay, now tell me again what Larry did.”

“It's not so bad,” Marian said in a defensive tone, she might have noticed that Bertha was getting angry. “I shouldn't have called you… But… You're his aunt, you know him and you'll know if it's true.”

“You're right.” Through the years, Bertha had to clear enough of Larry's messes to already picture what was coming next.

“We're seeing each other. Larry and I. It started right after I broke off my engagement, Larry said it had given him courage to ask me out…” Marian chuckled, probably reminiscing the moment… Oh, dear, this is getting worse by the minute. Because Marian didn't sound just disappointed, she was heartbroken. “I knew it was too soon, so we're taking things slow. It isn't even dating, just seeing each other. But on the day we finally decided to be exclusive he went out to a strip club!”

Oh, Larry… He just couldn't help himself, could he? He used to say something like that when he was little and Bertha had caught him doing something he knew he shouldn't. She had spoiled him, not only by not telling his mother about his mischievousness, but by letting boys be boys.

“Somone was kind enough to send me a picture of him… You can say it's Larry even through the bad lighting… It looks like him, but it's not something that my Larry would do, you know? He even lied to me saying he was going to meet some friends in another place… C’mon, say something! I'm getting a little scared.”

“I have to be honest with you. The Larry I know could be a little different from the one you do…”

“So you don't even need to see the picture.” Marian laughed without humor. Bertha was feeling terrible, she should be able to figure out something quickly to sort things out. Make things better like she always did. However, she was so taken aback by the whole situation, she hadn't seen any of that coming. Larry and Marian had completely different goals at the moment. Why on Earth were they dating? Still, she felt responsible for it, because it was happening with two people very close to her. “ You must think that I'm so stupid… Boss, what should I do?”

“Nothing. First, you shouldn't be seeking my help in the matter. Only your heart will tell the answer. I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but it's true. Whatever you decide to do must be what will bring peace to your soul.”

“You're right, boss.”

“You know what? You shouldn't take any major decisions in this state. Gladys and I are going shopping, would you like to come? It'll do you good.” Bertha invited without thinking about the logistics because it made sense. It would solve all her problems, the ones that were imminent (Marian's upsetting state) and the ones that were yet to come (Gladys’ wardrobe simply wouldn't do if she was going to be her trainee). “What do you say? You can abuse my credit card a little, I won't mind.”

That made Marian agree in an instant. Problem partially solved, all she had to do was collect Gladys and make the journey back to New York.

“...your secret is safe with me.” Gladys said solemnly, putting an end to their conversation. Bertha rightfully guessed that they would have things enough in common to be friendly to one another, the real shame was that it seemed better than that and she wasn't necessarily present to watch her point being proved.

“I'm afraid our time is up.” Bertha lamented.

“Another fire to be extinguished?”

“Something like that, yeah, at least this one is solved.” Hector followed them to exit, safely carrying the pot like a gentleman.

“You don't need to worry about this one. If the girl is as smitten as Mr. Trotter is with her, then she would like it even if it was a carnivorous plant. When you're in love everything feels right because if something is meant to be it'll be…” Bertha felt a jolt run through her body. An idea crossed her mind, a dangerous one. Nevermind she stopped paying attention to what he was saying after those words or that Gladys was calling her waiting for the car to be unlocked. “...you'll have another successful match in your hands very soon.”

Indeed she would.

“Hector, you are coming to my party, right?”

“I don't know… I dislike half of those people you usually invite and the other half I barely know.”

“C’mon! You'll like it! Besides, Gladys will be there too.”

“All right, then.”

*

As a general rule, Bertha O’Brien didn’t do frivolous purchases, especially for clothing. People assumed she did merely because her wardrobe was voluminous. But they were mistaken if they thought she just bought them out of the blue, when in fact each new pair of shoes was a statement. That's why they were meticulously chosen. Bertha was the cover girl of her own brand and she needed to dress for the part. And she very much loved it.

However, from time to time she did spend her money on whatever she wanted. There wasn't a fair reason to deny herself any kind of pleasure, not anymore. Not now that she had means to give herself everything she wanted. Because for a very long time little Bertha had dreamed of buying things just because could.

During her childhood, no one understood her desires, always wanting more, never satisfied. Not even Bertha was able to explain it, but it was there, deep in her bones: a wanting so strong that it almost felt like famine. And maybe it was, because even now that primary goals had been achieved and everyone expected her to be content, she wasn’t. She was always aiming for the next big thing. Always getting there, but never been there… Gosh, that sounds like something Monica would say.

All things considered, Bertha also had a rule for that: if she wants something, she shall have it.

Sometimes her wantings were impossible things that she made possible by sheer determination. Other times, like now, Bertha just bought a pair of gloves because it would go nicely with a scarf she had back home.

Meanwhile the girls were having fun. By the end of the lunch the three women had together, Marian seemed to have improved tremendously from the deplorable state she had been in during the phone call. No one could tell she had cried one hour prior, if Gladys noticed she graciously ignored it. But even if she didn’t know, the younger one still had helped light the mood. Better than Bertha, that was holding herself back to not say something. She felt the need to apologise for Larry's behavior.

She would, once they were alone. Gladys only had to try the amount of clothes she was selecting. Marian would have to do that too, but she was choosing her new acquisitions with the sense of someone who was receiving a gift from her boss. Not that Bertha would ever mind paying for more than the two dresses Marian had selected.

“This one looks so much like your prom dress! I had always dreamed of having one similar" Gladys said, exhibiting the pink gown like a trophy.

“Now why would you want something like that? It's so outdated!” The woman's enthusiasm made Bertha laugh.

“You looked so pretty! I remember looking at the photo and thinking that I wanted to be just like you when I grew up.” Gladys admitted blushing. That explained why Bertha had little resistance after imposing some clothes and reproving others that the girl thought would look good on her.

“Wait… How do you know such a thing? I don’t recall any magazines or posts about a prom…” Yeah, Bertha's life was public, but not that public. Especially her humble beginnings, that’s why photos like that weren't in any of her social medias. It made sense Marian would get confused by all that talking.

“Oh, Bertha and my brother were elected prom Queen and King together. It's one of the family portraits he leaves in the living room.” Gladys explained.

“You and Mr. Russell attended the same high school?”

“They’ve known each other since elementary school! Isn’t it cute?” Then Marian and Gladys exchanged glances. “I think I might have the picture on my phone.”

Great! Mamie’ll have a field day once she puts her hands on it. It wasn't like she was ashamed. On the contrary, especially about the photo: her copy was safely secured on her bedside so she could wake up and look at those two young adults’ eyes shining with confidence to the great future ahead of them. Being elected prom royalty was their first victory together. The first of many, and they knew it right from the start that they could conquer the world. They were both smiling, George's arms around her, the two of them looking every bit like royalty that they were for one night.

Amusing as it was, George was way more open than Bertha ever was. Of course, she exposed her lifestyle on social media, but only the things that weren't important to her. The most beloved ones were secured very close to her heart and not for everyone's disposal. George, on the other hand, wore his heart on his sleeve and had never tried to hide it.

“If you like it so much you must try it.” Bertha suggested stopping whatever gossip those two were whispering. When Marian was about to follow Gladys into the fitting room, Bertha stopped her. “I don't want you to think I'm excusing my nephew's behavior… On the contrary, I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you, but I shouldn't have called you… You're his aunt and my employer and I put you in a very weird position. And it's not like it's your fault…”

The thing was, no matter how assertive Marian sounded (and she wasn't, she was this close from crying), Bertha wouldn't believe it. Of course it was her responsibility. How could she not know what was happening in front of her eyes? It was her job, after all, and she'd failed to realise the basics. And somehow she was blind enough to let it all blow up on her face before even figuring out Marian and Larry were a thing.

The disaster was as predictable as the heat in the middle of the year. Her nephew was fresh from college, not a single worry on his mind, after years living by himself in Boston he was ready to conquer Mannathan as well. Commitment wasn't in his vocabulary, he was even working for Gilded X and Russell Enterprises at the same time. He didn't want to start his career favored by nepotism but was very much happy to receive a recommendation from his aunt to work at Russell's, overseeing his aunt’s company requirements and being paid from both sides. Bertha hadn't been hurt by it, she got it and was proud of him even, Larry was being ambitious, acknowledging his own value. And if her nephew didn't want to associate himself with her so-called silly business it was fine. She had paid his college so he could be brilliant like his uncle George so Larry had better start working in a place where he can do just that.

She imagined it was the same with Marian. Not that he was ashamed she was a matchmaker, if he was really in love with the girl she probably could do no wrong in his eyes. However, he certainly thought he could have both: her love and still keep acting like the womanizer he liked to pretend he was in front of his peers. Knowing him like Bertha did, she wouldn't be surprised if Larry presumed that Marian would loathe commitment after two failed engagements.

Although, as medieval as it could sound, Marian was only 22 and daydreamed of steadfulness through a loving marriage. It was not Bertha's place to judge if that was what the girl wanted and she shouldn't settle for less either. That was why their relationship looked so absurd. How could they be so blind to ignore they wanted and expected different things from life? But apparently Bertha was the blind one, not paying attention to the frequent visits Larry was paying to her office in the last weeks or the way Marian was (not so) innocently praising her nephew for his chivalry. Was it too much to expect sense from two adults?

“Nonsense, you did good. You needed to talk to someone who knew Larry and wouldn't mislead you about his behavior.”

“Still, I overreacted…”

“You did what every other woman in your position would have done.”

“You don't understand, boss. I broke up with him through text message. I didn't give him any explanation, I simply told him it was over and blocked him.”

Now Bertha was definitely sure she might have been the only sensible young adult who had ever walked on Earth.

It took a while for Bertha to come up with an answer. Marian clung to her for support with a plea in her eyes. For the second time in that day, the young woman sought her advice in matters of the heart. Well, Bertha O'Brien usually didn't do that for free, but what kind of person would she be if she didn't help a friend in need?

“Let me see if I got it right: you want nothing to do with him anymore. Am I right?”

“I just want to forget this whole thing. I'm so sick of being failed by men.”

“I get that, but he deserves to know the reason you’re breaking up with him." For the first time since the disconcerting development of Marian’s phone call, Bertha took her nephew’s side. More than that, she believed that this would be the first time Larry would suffer the consequences of his immature actions, so being aware of his shortcomings would do him good. “Talk to him, listen to what he has to say on the matter, if he has something to say…”

“He probably thinks he was right to lie to me after the way I reacted knowing where he went,so why bother?”

“By doing this you’ll be ending things right and you’ll be able to move forward. It will be good for you both.”

Still Marian wasn’t convinced, she seemed to want a more comfortable retreat. Well, if Marian wants something to end things once and for all I’ll give her just that. After all, wasn't Bertha acting like a friend would? She ought to lighten the burden for the poor girl. “Besides, you two shouldn't be hooking up in the first place, at least not if you don't want to get in trouble with HR since both of you work for me.”

“You're right, boss!” Marian said, relieved.

When both of the girls were finally trying on their clothes, Bertha’s body finally relaxed. The amount of damage control she was doing lately was inhuman. Suddenly partying later didn’t feel like a burden, except that she probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy herself with the launch of the new app, the amount of networking she could do in an event like that, and there was also the Gladys and Hector factor.

And about that, she couldn’t think of a more suitable couple, it would probably be the best match she has done in years… maybe in her whole career. They both were very down to Earth individuals that happened to be heirs. Both kind souls with good tempers. On paper they would not be what the other would claim to look for in a partner, but Bertha had known Gladys her whole life and Hector, the actual person and not the duke to be, for three years. There was no doubt they would be madly in love by the end of the spring. With her help, of course.

The only aspect that was letting Bertha O’Brien on the fence was: Gladys was still very young. Of course it didn't need to end up in a marriage just yet, but maybe the girl would like to have something casual before jumping into a serious relationship, given her age, and who could blame her for that? And there was also the promise she made to…

“George! What are you doing here?”

“I called him!” his sister answered before George could say something. “He’s picking me up so I don’t spend more money.”

“I am also paying for whatever you made her buy.”

“She has you wrapped around her finger.” It was unbelievable. Bertha wished she had a chauffeur like Goerge did, and here was his little sister making the CEO of a huge company be her private driver.

“You already had your time bossing my brother around, now is my turn!” Gladys joked and the three of them laughed, especially Marian.

“I don’t know about that.” Bertha couldn't figure out why their smug faces bothered her so much, it was like she was left out of a private joke. “I only made Gladys pick the essentials for her new position. And it's a gift, so I'm paying for it… Next time she can do it herself with her new salary.”

“Will I be able to afford all that?”

“Of course! Your internship is for real, with the responsibilities and benefits of a CEO in training. Or did you think I was paying you to serve me coffee on occasion?"

This time the private joke was between George and her. And what relief she felt to look into his eyes and see his amusement, he understood her even in a small matter like that one. It was a common topic between them: how they had fought for the children they watched growing up to have a better upbring than their own with the cost of their worldliness. Larry and Gladys lived in a bubble and were easy prey for the brutality of the real world. A small but still significant price to be burdened with.

In his right arm, George Russell was carrying a gift. If Bertha didn't know him better she would assume he was shopping for Valentine's Day, it was a heart shaped box after all. However, it was actually a tease between them. Since Bertha had changed the day of her birthday and started to throw parties for herself on February 14th, George decided to be an idiot and give her thematic presents. She found the whole thing endearing, and he was also an excellent gift giver, in Bertha's opinion.

“I believe this is for you.”

“Thank you! I love it!” Bertha hugged him.

“How do you know that? You haven't opened it.” George said, breaking their hug but still holding her waist. He was visibly confused.

“Nonsense! It's a gift from you, of course I'll love it.” What a silly idea to think Bertha wouldn't adore whatever Goerge gave to her. “Now I believe we have a party to attend.”

She left the three of them and went out to look for the vendor. She was running out of time to get ready for her celebration.