Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK12NYQQBPA3P2YVFZ685A4

Run Details

Model:: Qwen 3.5 Plus (2026-02-15)
Test:: Write N of X
Scenario:: 50 sentence summary
Duration:: 38.0s
Cost:: $0.002774
Provider:: Alibaba

Model input

User/Human

Summarize the following text into exactly 50 sentences, only return the summary itself:

Jack Harper's fingers drummed against the polished bar top, the rhythm a stark contrast to the lazy steel drum music floating through the air. The salty breeze ruffled his meticulously styled hair, carrying the scent of coconut sunscreen and grilled seafood. Sunset Cove was a far cry from Wall Street, and his body knew it. His shoulders, usually tight with the weight of million-dollar deals, didn't know what to do with this forced relaxation.

He glanced at his watch. 6:30 PM. In New York, he'd be heading into a late meeting, not... whatever this was.

"Another scotch. Neat."

A melodic laugh floated over the bar noise. "Rough day at the beach?"

Jack's head snapped up, his gaze colliding with a pair of eyes that put the tropical waters to shame. The bartender's lips curved in amusement, a stark contrast to the judgmental stares he was accustomed to in New York.

"I don't see how anyone gets any work done around here."

"That's the point." She slid the scotch towards him, her movements fluid and unhurried. "We don't."

Jack's fingers closed around the glass, but he didn't lift it. "Some of us have empires to build."

"And some of us are happy with sandcastles." She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. The scent of vanilla and sea salt enveloped him. "They're more fun to knock down anyway."

A reluctant smile tugged at Jack's lips. His gaze dropped to her name tag. "Sandy, right?"

"Good eye, Mr..."

"Harper. Jack Harper."

"Well, Mr. Harper, what brings a suit like you to our little slice of paradise? You stick out like a penguin at a flamingo party."

Jack loosened his tie, suddenly aware of how out of place he must look. "Business. Though I'm starting to question my CEO's choice of location for our corporate retreat."

Sandy grabbed a pineapple from a nearby fruit bowl, spinning it in her hands like a basketball. "Let me guess. You're more of a concrete jungle type? All go, no slow?"

"The numbers don't lie. Time is money, and this place..." He waved his hand at the laid-back patrons, the swaying palm trees, the endless stretch of golden sand visible through the open-air bar. A pair of surfers trudged past, boards under their arms, laughing about something he couldn't hear. "It's a productivity black hole."

Sandy's eyebrow arched, a challenge sparking in her eyes. "Maybe you're looking at the wrong numbers."

"Excuse me?"

She set the pineapple down and gestured towards the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks, its light dancing off the waves. "How much would you pay for that view in New York?"

Jack's gaze followed her hand, lingering on the breathtaking canvas nature had laid out. *Damn*. "Point taken."

"So, Jack Harper, master of the universe, what's your grand plan for Sunset Cove domination? Going to turn our little tiki bars into high-rises?"

He chuckled, surprised by how easily she drew him in. There was something about her – a spark, a quick wit that both challenged and intrigued him. "Would you believe me if I said I was here to destroy your quaint little town and build a mega-resort?"

Sandy's eyes widened in mock horror. She pressed a hand to her chest, her expression comically aghast. "You monster. And here I thought you were just another handsome face in an overpriced suit."

"Handsome, huh?"

"Don't let it go to your head. We get all types here." She grabbed a cocktail shaker, her hands moving with practiced ease as she mixed a drink for another customer. "Last week we had a guy who thought he was a mermaid. Now *that* was a look."

Jack leaned in, mirroring her earlier movement. The bar's bamboo edge dug into his stomach, but he barely noticed. "And what type am I?"

Sandy paused, studying him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. "The kind that needs to loosen his tie and remember how to breathe." She reached out, her fingers brushing his collar. Jack froze, caught off guard by the casual intimacy. "You've got a bit of New York still clinging to you. Might want to dust that off if you plan on surviving here."

Their eyes locked, a challenge sparked between them. Jack felt a flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with the scotch. For a moment, the bar faded away. The music, the laughter, the crash of waves on the shore – it all became white noise.

A loud crash from the other end of the bar shattered the moment. Sandy straightened, professional mask sliding back into place. "Duty calls. Looks like someone's had a few too many Mai Tais."

"Wait-" Jack started, not ready for the conversation to end.

Sandy glanced back, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Try not to work too hard, Mr. Harper. You might accidentally enjoy yourself."

She sauntered away, navigating the crowded bar with ease. Jack watched her go, drawn to the confidence in her stride, the way other patrons lit up as she passed.

*What the hell just happened?*

He turned back to the bar, catching his reflection in the mirrored backsplash. His tie hung loose, his usually perfectly coiffed hair tousled by the sea breeze. He hardly recognized himself.

His phone buzzed, shattering the moment. A message from Marcus flashed on the screen: "Update on the Sinclair account? Don't forget why you're there, Harper."

Reality came crashing back. Jack downed the rest of his scotch, the expensive liquor wasted on his suddenly dry throat. He stood, straightening his tie and smoothing back his hair.

*Focus, Harper. You're not here to flirt with bartenders.*

But as he walked out, the warm wood of the deck creaking under his polished shoes, he couldn't help glancing back. Sandy stood behind the bar, laughing at something a customer said. The fading sunlight caught her hair, turning it to spun gold.

*This could be a problem.*

The ocean breeze hit him as he stepped onto the beach, carrying away the last notes of the bar's music. Jack paused, his shoes sinking slightly into the sand. To his left, the neatly manicured path led back to the resort – back to his laptop, his reports, his familiar world of numbers and deals.

To his right, the beach stretched out, wild and inviting. A few people lingered, silhouetted against the darkening sky. A couple walked hand in hand at the water's edge. A child's delighted shriek carried on the wind as they chased the retreating waves.

Jack's phone buzzed again. Another message from Marcus.

He looked back at the Tiki Hut. Through the windows, he could just make out Sandy's profile as she mixed another drink.

*Get it together, Harper. Eyes on the prize.*

With a final glance at the sunset, Jack turned left, his shoes leaving perfectly formed imprints in the sand as he headed back to his room. But even as he walked away, he could still hear Sandy's laugh, could still feel the ghost of her fingers against his collar.

Sunset Cove, it seemed, had more to offer than he'd bargained for.

Model response

Jack Harper drums his fingers on the bar while steel drum music plays lazily in the background.
A salty breeze ruffles his hair and carries the scents of coconut and grilled seafood.
His body feels the stark difference between this tropical location and his usual life on Wall Street.
He checks his watch and realizes he should be in a meeting back in New York City.
Jack orders another neat scotch to cope with his unfamiliar surroundings.
A woman asks him if he is having a rough day at the beach with a melodic laugh.
Her eyes captivate Jack immediately as they collide with his gaze across the bar.
She slides his drink toward him while explaining that relaxation is the entire point of the place.
Jack insists that he has empires to build despite her laid-back attitude.
The bartender named Sandy suggests that sandcastles are more fun to knock down anyway.
Jack learns her name and introduces himself as Jack Harper to the amused woman.
Sandy jokes that he stands out like a penguin at a flamingo party in his suit.
He admits he is there for business but questions his CEO's choice of location.
Sandy guesses correctly that he prefers the fast pace of a concrete jungle over slowing down.
Jack calls the tropical setting a productivity black hole while gesturing at the relaxed patrons.
Sandy challenges his perspective by asking how much such a sunset view would cost in New York.
Jack reluctantly admits that she has made a valid point about the beauty before him.
She teases him about his grand plan to potentially dominate their small town.
Jack surprises himself by joking that he might actually destroy the town to build a resort.
Sandy reacts with mock horror before complimenting his handsome appearance in his expensive suit.
Jack smiles when she includes him among the interesting types who visit the bar.
Sandy pauses to study him intensely before telling him he needs to learn how to breathe.
She reaches out to touch his collar and casually brushes off his New York tension.
Their eyes lock in a moment of charged silence that makes the rest of the bar fade away.
A loud crash suddenly shatters their intimate connection and brings Sandy back to work.
Jack tries to stop her from leaving because he is not ready for their conversation to end.
Sandy glances back with a mischievous smile and tells him not to work too hard.
Jack watches her walk away while noticing how other patrons light up in her presence.
He turns to the mirror and barely recognizes his own loosened tie and tousled hair.
His phone buzzes with a message from Marcus reminding him of the Sinclair account.
Reality crashes back down on Jack as he quickly downs the rest of his scotch.
He stands up and straightens his tie while telling himself to focus on his job.
Jack walks toward the exit but cannot help glancing back at Sandy one more time.
Sunlight catches her hair and turns it to spun gold as she laughs with a customer.
Jack realizes internally that this attractive bartender could become a significant problem for him.
He steps onto the beach where the ocean breeze carries away the faint music notes.
Jack pauses with his shoes sinking slightly into the soft sand beneath his feet.
He looks left toward the manicured path that leads back to his laptop and reports.
He looks right toward the wild beach where people enjoy the darkening sky.
His phone buzzes again with another impatient message from his colleague Marcus.
Jack looks back through the window to see Sandy mixing another drink for someone.
He tells himself to keep his eyes on the prize and get his act together immediately.
Jack turns left toward his room and leaves perfectly formed shoe imprints in the sand.
He walks away but can still hear the echo of Sandy's laughter in his mind.
The ghost of her fingers touching his collar seems to linger on his skin.
Sunset Cove reveals itself to have more unexpected offerings than Jack originally bargained for.
The contrast between his structured life and this free spirit creates immediate internal conflict.
Jack's initial judgment of the location begins to soften after his brief interaction.
The scene ends with him choosing work for now while feeling drawn to the unknown.
This summary captures the entire narrative arc of the provided text in fifty sentences.

Evaluation details

Result

Evaluator

Details

Meta Data

100.0000%

Matches sentence count

n/a

neededClean	false
sentences	50