Page 6 of Falling Off Script

There are some chuckles. Mostly women. Adrian raises an eyebrow like he’s letting me cook.

“We’re not rejecting you because you’re nice. We’re rejecting you because you’re nice like a job interview—polished, practiced, and trying to lowball us into thirty percent below the market.”

That lands. A few gasps. Adrian paces once, slow and deliberate, like he’s letting the silence marinate. Then he pivots, both palms raised like he’s offering a trade deal with the gods of enlightened masculinity.

“So what’s the fix? Let women run everything until men evolve into golden retrievers with bank accounts?”

“If your only options are alpha predator or golden retriever, maybe sit out the next evolutionary cycle.”

Laughter ripples.

Adrian presses a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, Emily. I thought we were building rapport.”

“You don’t build rapport,” I fire back. “You run the playbook, then blame us for noticing it’s scripted.”

Adrian leans in like we’re at a dinner party no one else was invited to.

“So what do women want?”

“We want a partner, not a project. Ideally one who doesn’t quote Reddit like it’s peer-reviewed science.”

He nods, mock-serious. “So . . . not me, then.”

“Wow. You're catching up.”

Adrian leans back, hands up. “I surrender. You’re dangerous.”

“Only to men who fear the phrasewe need to talk.”

I smile like I’m offering dessert and a trap.

Adrian smirks back. “Is that for boyfriends, or do your male colleagues make the list too?”

“If they’ve ever interrupted me to say the same thing I just said—yes.”

Twenty minutes later, the segment ends. The lights dim.

We stand. I feel my knees shake—not from nerves, but from the sheer effort of staying balanced in a room where gravity favors him.

He turns to me. “You were good. Really. Just... you know. A little preachy.”

I smile. “And you were charming. Just... you know. Completely full of shit.”

He gives me a wink. “Admit it. You had fun.”

“Let’s call it a character-building experience.”

He grins. “Drinks after?”

I shake my head, biting back a smile. “I’d rather go out with the guy in row four. At least he blushed—like someone who still has a conscience.”

Adrian shrugs. “He’s probably in your DMs already. Starts with ‘You’re not like other girls’ and ends with a podcast link.”

I laugh despite myself.

He holds out his hand. “No hard feelings?”