Part 1His Five Loves Are All Me

I stared at the glowing screen of my phone in the dead silence of my apartment, the blue light harsh against my exhausted eyes.

It was past 2:00 AM, and a trending thread on Reddit’s r/TrueOffMyChest had suddenly snagged my attention. The original poster was claiming, with absolute, agonizing sincerity, that he had fallen hopelessly in love with five different women. All in the exact same day.

He went into excruciating detail about the objects of his newfound affection: the young barista at the local boba shop, the DoorDash girl, his morning Uber driver, a quirky TikTok streamer, and, finally, his newly hired executive secretary.

The comment section was a bloodbath of cynical internet humor.

“Bro, loving one person in this economy is exhausting enough. You’re trying to roster five?” one top comment read.

“This is honestly terrifying. It’s giving severe attachment issues,” another user chimed in. “You order a burrito and fall in love with the delivery girl? You get in an Uber and want to marry the driver? Seek therapy.”

But as I scrolled through the digital roasting, a quiet, hysterical realization bloomed in my chest. I knew a secret none of these keyboard warriors did.

Those five distinct women? They were all me.

Because in order to survive in this city and keep my bank account out of the red, I was currently juggling five different jobs.

And the tragically earnest poster getting crucified in the comments? That had to be my boss. The billionaire CEO who suffered from a documented, severe case of prosopagnosia—face blindness.

* * *

I had just kicked off my shoes after finishing my late-night side hustle when the post popped up on my feed.

[Title: I think I’ve fallen in love with five women at the same time. What do I do?]

Normally, I scrolled past relationship drama. I didn't have the luxury of time for romance; time was money. But as I went to close the app, the OP’s avatar caught my eye. It was a very specific, pretentious geometric logo.

Wait. Is that Payne? My boss, Payne Sinclair?

I clicked back into the thread, my fatigue momentarily vanishing. His narrative style was… uniquely unhinged.

He explained that within a single twenty-four-hour window, he had been utterly captivated by a boba barista, a DoorDash rider, an Uber driver, a TikToker, and his new secretary.

[This morning, both my Lamborghini and my Porsche refused to start. I had to resort to an Uber. The driver was this woman with a fiercely focused energy. But what really sealed the deal was the graceful, poetic way she rolled down her window and absolutely destroyed the lineage of a guy who tried to cut us off. It was beautiful.]

The comments were relentless.

“Which Wattpad billionaire romance did this guy escape from? ‘My Porsche wouldn’t start’? Bro, where’s the Rolls-Royce?”

“The reason you fell for her is wild. She cussed out a dude in traffic and that did it for you?”

Payne had actually replied to that one: [The Rolls-Royce is in the shop for detailing. And she didn't just cuss him out. I told her I was running late for a crucial board meeting, and she defied the laws of physics to get me there on time. She was protecting my schedule. She cares about me.]

I sat on my lumpy mattress, staring at the ceiling in stunned silence.

This morning, I had been doing my usual 5:00 AM Uber shifts. By some cruel twist of algorithmic fate, I had picked up my own boss. His gated community had a ridiculous speed limit, and just getting out of the neighborhood took ten minutes. He had a meeting at ten. I had to clock in at the office by nine-thirty.

I was driving like a stunt double in a Fast & Furious movie. If anyone tried to merge into my lane, I verbally dismantled them. I got us both to the high-rise with two minutes to spare.

That was how Payne Sinclair fell in love with me?

Before I could even process the absurdity, I refreshed the page. He had updated the post.

[Because I was so distracted by the memory of the Uber driver, I couldn't stomach the thought of going out for a proper lunch. I just ordered delivery. When the DoorDash girl arrived at my corporate lobby, some creep was harassing a woman on the sidewalk. My delivery driver took off her helmet and launched it in a perfect, parabolic arc, nailing the creep right in the back of the head. It was so badass. I am obsessed. The best part? She was holding my Thai food in her other hand, and she didn’t spill a single drop.]

The comment section was losing its mind.

“‘Couldn't stomach a proper lunch so I ordered delivery.’ Ah yes, the male capacity for making excuses is truly boundless.”

“So you fell in love again? What happened to the Uber driver? Are we over her already?”

Payne replied immediately: [I still love the Uber driver very much. We are currently at two women.]

I put the phone down, grabbed a towel, and went to take a shower. Mid-shampoo, my phone buzzed on the sink. It was the manager of the boba shop.

"Jill, you only worked a two-hour shift today. Do you even want your paycheck this week?"

I didn't even bother rinsing the suds out of my hair before going on the defensive. "I did four hours' worth of prep in those two hours, and I didn't even charge you overtime. Plus, some guy practically choked to death in your lobby today and I gave him the Heimlich. I saved you a massive lawsuit. You're welcome."

The manager paused. "Fair point. See you tomorrow. Don't be late."

He hung up. I wrapped a towel around myself, picked up my phone, and saw another update on Reddit.

[After work, I needed something sweet to calm my nerves, so I went to a boba shop. The barista there… her eyes looked so familiar. It felt like I had known her in a past life. I was staring at her, trying to figure it out, and I got so flustered that I inhaled a tapioca pearl right into my windpipe. I nearly died. But she vaulted over the counter and saved my life. I think I love her too.]

[This feeling of having my heart pulled in so many directions is agony. A friend told me to just doomscroll on TikTok to distract myself. I did. I found this streamer. She is incredible. She can balance an entire dining chair on her chin while reciting the alphabet backward.]

I stepped out of the bathroom and nearly tripped over the ring light I used for my streams.

The comment section had officially turned into a circus.

“This is unhinged. You’re just falling for every woman you make eye contact with.”

“If you’re such a rich CEO, act like it. Call your secretary right now and demand background checks on all of them. Assert dominance.”

Payne actually responded to that one too.

[I absolutely cannot do that. Because I think I’m in love with my secretary, too. She is fiercely competent, and today she helped me yell at the board of directors. I really, really like her.]

Before I accepted the job at Sinclair Holdings, the senior staff had warned me. The man at the top was brilliant, but he had face blindness. Because of his inability to recognize people, he had accidentally fired seven secretaries in the past two years, mistaking them for interns or trespassers.

I was the eighth. On my first day, I made sure my massive corporate ID badge was pinned right at eye level.

When I walked into his office, I said, "Good morning, Mr. Sinclair. I am your new executive secretary, Jill Gallagher."

He had looked up from his mahogany desk, his eyes lingering on my face without truly seeing it, before nodding. "Jill… hard to break, highly valued. Good name."

And I lived up to it. My goal in life was simple.

Make money. Make a lot of money.