My neighbor set me up on what I thought was a joke date, and I almost walked out the second I realized what was happening. Mrs. Chen, the 76-year-old woman next door who’d been leaving dumplings at my door for months, had cornered me 3 days earlier with that look in her eyes. The one that said she was about to meddle in my life whether I liked it or not. Zane, she’d said, gripping my arm with surprising strength for someone so frail.
I need you to meet someone, a woman. She needs furniture work, but she’s difficult, older. Probably won’t hire you, but do it as a favor to me. I should have known it was a setup. I should have seen through the thin excuse. But Mrs. Chen had this way of making you feel like you owed her something just for existing, so I agreed. What I didn’t know was that this neighbor who set me up wasn’t just playing matchmaker.
