I checked the timing of the job: to start in a week (less prep time than average, meaning this could be a desperate and possibly volatile situation). Then I skimmed through the small block of information we receive to gauge our preliminary interest.

The parents were Type A (ugh, it was extra draining for me to be affectionate) and Category 3, which rarely matched to me (Type C, Category 1, like the Wangs was my area of expertise). I continued scrolling to see what in this client’s file had made me the ideal operative for her.

Ah, her parents were native Taiwanese and preferred the daughter be with someone who could speak Mandarin and Taiwanese. My Taiwanese wasn’t great, but I’d taken a few classes, and it was a skill few operatives had.

I kept reading, and, oh boy. My heart started to hurt. Because under the why she had written: I’m not ready to come out to my family yet, but they’re starting to wonder why I’ve never had a boyfriend.

“Well?” Jason said to me as he took a seat at the counter, a.k.a. our dining table.

“It’s a tough one,” I said quietly.

“Oh no,” he said, catching on. “What do you want to do?”

“Don’t I have to take it? How can I not? If she’s not ready, she’s not ready, right? Or… am I just making everything worse for her?” I chewed on a fingernail. “WWJD?”

“Jesus? Well, I don’t think you want to ask that,” Jason tried to joke, even though he already knew the J referred to him. “I don’t know, bud—there’s an argument either way. What about the rest of the info? Have you clicked interested yet?”

I shook my head. “This is still the preliminary stuff.”

He nodded. “You in enough to know more?”

“Not yet. You know I don’t like to get more info unless I’m pretty sure.”

He pursed his lips to one side. “I get that, but how can you decide if you don’t have all the facts? And it’s not like you know any identifying information at stage two.” We didn’t receive that until the job was booked, confirmed on both ends, and paid for.

Jason and I had already had this discussion several times before. I was too tired right now.

“I’ll decide later,” I said, setting a reminder on my phone. Right before I closed out of the app, I saw that Jing-Jing had rated me five stars.

I retreated to my room with my green tea.

When I’d moved in a year and a half ago, I’d lofted my bed so I could maximize my work space, which was small enough that it forced me to be organized and methodical. (I hadn’t decided yet if that was good or bad for my creativity.)