Page 4 of The Love Hack

’No! I mean, I can see how they might go for that, but it’s not exactly sustainable, is it?’

‘Not really. But what can I do? I know about technology, and I can write about it in a way people understand. That’s it. That’s my skill set.’

Amelie put down her wine glass and reached over to the table, picking up a notebook covered in champagne-coloured satin with beads and sequins embroidered on it. The words My Wedding were stamped on it in gold, and a slim gold pen slotted into its spine. She flipped the pages until she found a blank one, about two-thirds of the way through.

‘Okay.’ She poised her pen over the page. ‘You can write. We know that.’

‘But so can everyone else that works in the editorial department,’ I pointed out, ‘otherwise they wouldn’t have jobs there.’

‘Fair enough. So then the question is, what don’t they write about now that people would want to read?’

‘Everything I can do is covered,’ I said glumly. ‘Movie reviews, computing, gaming. And then there’s a whole load of stuff I don’t have a clue about, like fashion and recipes and things like that.’

‘Does the men’s magazine have a recipe page?’ Amelie brightened. ‘I bet it doesn’t. You could do that. How to impress your date with your jerk monkfish in blue corn tortillas. The first time Zack?—’

‘Yes, except unlike Zack, I can’t cook. So that’s a non-starter.’

‘Shhh. I said something a second ago that gave me an idea, and now I’ve lost it.’

‘Something about Zack?’

‘No, before that.’

‘About impressing your date?’

‘Yes! That’s the budgie. Dating advice for men. Like, Fab! has an agony aunt, am I right?’

‘Sure. We – they get loads of letters.’

‘And do the men get one? Hmmm? Do they?’

‘Umm, no. There isn’t an equivalent in Max! I don’t know why. Maybe they tried it and it didn’t work.’

Amelie shook her head. ‘Poor men. Honestly, you’ve got to pity the buggers. No wonder so many of them end up being incels or following Andrew Tate on Tiktok or whatever. All they need is some good, straight-talking advice from someone who understands what women want.’

‘Like a woman?’

‘Yes, but no. I know men, Luce, and I know they don’t listen to a bloody word women say. It would need to be a man – or at least, pretend to be a man, all brotherly, explaining to them what they’re doing wrong in their dating lives.’

‘You’re saying I should pretend to be a man and write a dating advice column for Max!?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Brilliant.’ I loved my sister and I knew her intentions were good, but I couldn’t help sarcasm oozing from my words. ‘Only one, I don’t understand dating; two, I don’t understand men; and three, I don’t know what men do wrong when they’re dating because I never date them.’

‘Doesn’t matter. I do. Go on – ask me anything.’

‘Uh…’ I racked my brains and came up with very little. ‘Okay. I’m a guy and I can’t get a girlfriend. Why not?’

Amelie frowned. ‘I’d expect them to give me a bit more to go on than that. But okay. When guys can’t get women to go out with them, it’s generally because their expectations of the kind of woman who might want to are completely unrealistic, or because they aren’t even trying to make the most of themselves, or because they’re just dicks, and women can tell. One of the three. Try another.’

A memory rushed into my mind and I tried to block it, but it was too late. ‘I’ve been hooking up with a girl and I think she wants more. What should I do?’

‘Hmmm. If you don’t want a relationship with her, that’s fine. But be clear about it, be kind, and above all don’t be a dick.’

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‘That’s because it is. Men are simple.’

---