I don’t usually write things like this. I draft contracts, I redline merger clauses, I send emails that could be cross-examined in a court of law and still hold up. Personal introductions? Not my area.
But here we are.
I’m Megan Porter. Corporate lawyer. Hastings & Mill, New York office. My days are long, my inbox is longer, and if you asked me what I do for fun, I’d probably say “finish work before midnight.”
Here are the basics:
– I’m thirty-two.
– I live in Astoria, top floor of a converted building with exposed brick and very clean lines. There is a lift. Thank God.
– My mornings start at 5:45. No snooze. Bagel, coffee, inbox, train. Routine is survival.
– My desk is immaculate. My apartment almost is.
That’s the curated version. The LinkedIn-approved one.
What I don’t usually say: sometimes, at night, when the screen is finally dark and the city noise leaks faintly through the windows, I scroll. Weddings. Babies. Promotions. The full highlight reel of people I used to study with, interview against, or smile politely at over a canapé tray. They’re all out there, looking like they’ve solved life’s equation. And sometimes I tell myself I don’t care. Sometimes I almost believe it.
And then — every so often — something catches my eye. A face. A line. Something that feels… less polished. More real.
That’s what happened the night I saw him.
His name was Tom Bennett. His photo wasn’t staged — just him at a café table, hands wrapped around a mug, like someone had caught him mid-laugh. His bio read: From council estate to criminal law. Lover of books, justice, and coffee.
That stopped me.
Not because it was poetic, or because I was looking. I wasn’t. But because it was… unfiltered. No Ivy League brag, no glossy headshot in front of a corporate logo. Just a sentence that told me more than most profiles manage in a thousand.
I don’t do impulse. Ever. I don’t click unless I have a reason, and “interesting smile” doesn’t usually qualify. But that night, I did.
Add Friend.
And then I sat back on my sofa, glass of wine in hand, and wondered why on earth I’d done it.
If you’re reading this, maybe you know already: that one click became something more. A thread. A rhythm. Messages across time zones. The start of a story I never thought I’d be part of.
But for now, let’s just call this an introduction. To me. To Tom. To what happens when even the most disciplined person makes one small, unplanned choice.
Because sometimes, those are the choices that matter.
if you’re looking forward to meeting me statue socials and check out my coming soon page