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Robin stayed still, dropping her usual teasing posture entirely. ‘What? You? How? Why?’ She paused. ‘If you don’t mind…’ she nodded at the lapel mic on Sienna’s collar.

‘My listeners know this story,’ Sienna assured her.

‘They do?’

‘Yeah, I had to tell them. They had to understand what qualifies me to tell them what to do.’

‘What does this have to do with dating advice?’ Robin asked.

‘I’m getting there,’ Sienna said, with slight exasperation.

Robin held her hands up. ‘Sorry. Go on.’

‘Alright, well, when I was twenty-three, I was engaged,’ Sienna said, the words coming out slow and deliberate. ‘I won’t tell you her name, out of respect that she doesn’t really deserve. But anyway. We were together for four years, and I was working eighty-hour weeks at the firm, building what I thought was our future. I was saving for a house, mapping out a ten-year plan, making sure we’d be secure.’

Sienna paused, her jaw tightening slightly.

‘And then?’ Robin prompted gently, keeping her tone light, unpressured.

‘Six months before the wedding, I came home from working late, and the flat was half-empty,’ Sienna murmured, staring at the embers. ‘She’d packed her things and left a note on the kitchen island. She moved to Spain with a woman she’d met at yoga three weeks prior.’

Robin was pained. ‘Oh, Sienna...’

‘Do you know what the note said, Robin?’ Sienna asked. Her dark eyes were vulnerable, completely open in the firelight. ‘She wrote that I was good at managing a life, but impossible to actually love. She said being with me felt like living inside an itinerary. And that this other woman was... spontaneous. That she made her feel alive.’

Robin’s heart hurt for her. ‘That’s a brutal thing to leave on a piece of paper.’

‘It broke me,’ Sienna admitted, letting out a tiny, bitter laugh. ‘I couldn’t focus at work. The risk models felt pointless because I had failed to predict the catastrophe in my own life. I made some mistakes, big ones. Fireable ones.’

‘Still can’t figure out how you got from a note on a kitchen island to a microphone?’ Robin asked softly, leaning a little closer.

Sienna ran her thumb along the rim of her glass. ‘An old flatmate from university was producing a show called Soft Landing for Violet Audio; it was one of those late-night phone-in shows. My friend knew I was out of work and struggling, so she brought me in behind the scenes to analyse their show metrics, figure out at what points listeners were dropping off and why.’

‘Soft Landing,’ Robin repeated. She’d never heard of it.

‘The approach was comfort and validation from a grandmotherly type called Sue,’ Sienna said. ‘Except, when I went in to deliver my findings, I stayed to watch from the booth. And during the show, Sue went to use the toilet on a break and fell down the stairs.’

‘Fuck!’ Robin exclaimed.

‘She didn’t break anything, but she was knocked for six. My producer friend was frantic. The board was lit up with callers. And it was night shift. No one there. Then my friend said I had an authoritative voice, and asked if I’d like to step in?’

‘Why didn’t she do it?’ Robin asked.

‘I asked her that. She said that public speaking brought out a terrible stutter.’

‘And she dragged you in front of the mic?’ Robin asked.

‘She begged me to coo and offer emotional comfort,’ Sienna admitted. ‘And I thought, “Fine. Why not?’” Then a woman called in, distraught over whether to leave her partner after she’d secretly wiped out their house deposit on a spontaneous business venture.’

Robin leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. ‘Let me guess. You didn’t offer a soft shoulder to cry on.’

‘I didn’t think soft comfort was appropriate for financial ruin,’ Sienna murmured, looking down at her wine. ‘So, I gave the caller a risk assessment of her partner’s behaviour, ending with a step-by-step plan to protect her remaining assets immediately.’

Robin let out a laugh that echoed against the wooden rafters. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘The switchboard went mad,’ Sienna said with a little pride. ‘People were calling in to demand I analyse their relationships too. Gemma heard it all, and Dating by Design was born.’

Sienna paused, her smile fading as she looked into the fire.