Story Time: The MACK List — Part 2

So there I was, staring at this man — the one who had just proclaimed, with the conviction of a preacher on Sunday morning, that he was my MACK.

Mind you, I had never told him about the MACK List. Not once. Not even a hint. And yet here he was, looking me dead in the eye, declaring it like he’d just been handed a divine memo.

I laughed. Not because I didn’t believe him — oh no, I did — but because the whole thing felt like the universe was winking at me. You know that feeling when life gets so on-the-nose it’s almost cliché? Yeah. That.

The Universe Has a Sense of Humor

Here’s the thing about manifestation: sometimes it delivers exactly what you asked for… but with a twist. And sometimes that twist is wearing cologne you recognize from 2009 and has a habit of texting you at 11:47 p.m.

The days after his declaration were a blur of long conversations, inside jokes, and that electric “what if” energy. We had the kind of connection where we could communicate through glances — and oh man, we were so sexually charged that everyone at the party noticed. It was the kind of chemistry you can’t fake, the kind that makes people whisper and nudge each other when you walk by.

The MACK Effect in Full Swing

Meanwhile, the MACK List magic was still working overtime. It was like I’d flipped some cosmic “open for business” sign. Everywhere I went, people were suddenly… interested.

The barista at my coffee shop started giving me extra shots “just because.” A stranger at the grocery store complimented my aura (yes, my aura). Even my neighbor — who had previously only spoken to me about recycling bins — started lingering in conversation.

It was flattering. It was fun. And it was also a little overwhelming.

The Plot Thickens

Back to Mr. “I Am Your MACK.” We had this undeniable pull — the kind that makes you forget to check your phone, lose track of time, and start mentally redecorating your living room to fit another person’s taste.

But here’s the thing about pull: it can be magnetic… or it can be a riptide. And I was starting to wonder which one I was in.

Because while he was saying all the right things, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe wasn’t done with this little experiment. That maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the final delivery… but a test shipment.

And then…

THE MAN IN A SUIT walked in.

Tall. Dark. Handsome. Young — definitely younger than me — and impulsive in a way that made the air shift the second he entered the room. And my oh my, did he have a way of getting my attention.

And that… is where we’ll pick up in Part 3.