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Corporation.”
    The Larsen Corporation.
    My brain instantly shifts back to Alfred Barnes' Facebook page. It said that he was the CEO of the Larsen Corporation. That's probably not a coincidence. The pit in my stomach deepens.
    “ Now if anyone has questions, I will answer them to the best of my ability.” Freddie takes a more casual stance as if getting off his chest that he sold the company has made him thirty pounds lighter.
    I raise my hand, but one of my co-workers speaks out of turn. “Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?”
    “ Because I wasn't sure it was going to happen. The transaction took place this morning. I figured it was better to wait until I knew for sure rather than to create a panic by feeding you guys false information.”
    “ But you knew you were going to sell. You just didn't know when.”
    “ That's true.” He nods. “I had wanted to sell for a while. I just hadn't received an acceptable offer until now.”
    “ What about our salaries? Will they remain the same?” another of my co-workers asks.
    “ I have been informed that your salaries will be locked for the next month, which means they won't change until that period if over. After that, it's out of my hands. The new management team will look over employee data and decide whether they need to make changes or keep things the same.
    “ I apologize, but that's all I'll be able to answer for now. On Friday, we'll have another meeting in the afternoon, so save all of your questions until then.” Freddie bows out of the room as if it's on fire, leaving everyone dumbstruck.
    I simply sit there, trying to put the pieces together. My mind is reeling with what ifs. In the span of just a few minutes, my entire world has been turned upside down, and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.
    Knowing that I won't find answers sitting in a room full of people who are also trying to figure things out, I return to my office. Instead of messing with the slow internet on my phone, I use my desktop to do a Google search on The Larsen Corporation. The website looks professional enough. There's a gray banner with the company's logo. Beneath that are some article excerpts about recent acquisitions and other news. I see nothing about Full Hearts Matchmaking Service on there, though.
    I click through to the page with businesses that the corporation currently owns. It has an impressive list. Several salons, massage parlors, restaurants, storage centers, a jewelry store, and even a movie theater. It's a curious mix. No Full Hearts Matchmaking Service though. It looks like they haven't had time to update their website yet.
    Next, I click to the page with the leadership team. Front and center is an image of Alfred Barnes. Except the name Alfred Barnes isn't under the picture. The name under the picture is Colton Larsen.
    There are fourteen people on his management team and eleven people on his board of directors. It's a damn big corporation.
    I now know that Alfred Barnes' real name is Colton Larsen. That the man who was sitting across from me days ago wasn't a client at all. The question is, is that really who I've been talking to on the dating site, or did BoxPup just steal Colton's pictures from the internet.
    I'm forced to put my research aside when my last client of the day walks in.
    The woman who plants her pudgy ass in front of me is another unmatchable. Most of her dates have described her as a gold digger and freebie seeker. The honest ones, at least. There are a lot of people who choose not to delve into specifics about why their date went badly. The few transparent members start to lay out a pattern of the unmatchable's unsavory behavior, though. Enough of which I can use to make the determination that our services are no longer beneficial for them.
    The appointment takes much longer than I would have liked. The woman makes excuses, blames the bad dates on her matches, says that it's their responsibility to pay for everything. She calls one guy