Matchmakers 2.0 (A Novel Nibbles title) (7 page)

Chapter 13

It was a close thing, but the Bulls lost, which gave Sam and me plenty of opportunity to argue baseball stats and dumb decisions of the pitching staff.  We disagreed on pulling the starting pitcher at the end of the third inning, but we were on the same page about the umpire; his strike zone had been a freaking hexagon. 

If you counted the engagement party, Sam and I had been on four dates in four days. 

After the game, we headed back to his place so I could impress him with my post-game Thai curry.  I’m not a traditionalist, and cooking Thai food is one of my best things.

I hadn’t been to Sam’s place, yet.  It was instant love.  He lives in one of the old tobacco-building renos in downtown Durham.  Huge arched windows, high ceilings, exposed-brick walls, and light streaming everywhere.  No wonder he works from home.

I stood in front of his very classy stove and stirred my curry concoction.  It smelled heavenly.  Always does; it’s idiot proof. 

Sam drooled over my shoulder.  “Will you marry me and be my full-time cook?”

I leaned into him.  I’m a snuggler; it goes along with the closet romantic.  “Such an offer.  Let me think about it and get back to you.”

He laughed.  “What about just being my house slave?  No strings attached.”

“If it includes a cot in a corner of this awesome place, you might be able to make a deal.”

Sam looked around.  “I could probably fashion you a little room with books for walls.”  He wasn’t kidding.  There were books everywhere.  Almost everywhere.  He hadn’t committed the unforgiveable sin of covering up his exposed-brick walls, but pretty much nothing else was sacred.

“Ever considered getting a Kindle?”

He looked around.  “I have two.  Somewhere.  And a Nook, and an iPad.  I use them to check the formatting for the electronic versions of my books before I publish them.”

“Ever consider using them to actually read a book?”

“Not fond of my interior decorating?”

 “Books, the new paint.” I grinned, and swatted at the hands that were trying to sneak my avocado slices.  “I like your books just fine, but if you want to read any more, you’re going to need to buy the unit next door.”

He perked up.  “Is it for sale?”  This from the guy I’d worried was a struggling writer.  The unit next door would go for about half-a-million dollars.

“Not as far as I know, which is why I’m thinking you should dig up your electronic book device of choice.  Storing books in your oven is a fire hazard, and you don’t have many other choices left.”

“Totally not a fire hazard in my house. I don’t think I’ve ever turned on the oven.”  He looked hopeful.  “Will you bake cookies for me?  I’ll take the books out if you will.”

Time to show the man how to fish.  “I’ll teach you how to bake cookies.  First lesson after dinner.  Grab a couple of bowls, will you?”

Being with Sam was really easy.  Old-friend kind of easy, with some nice hormonal tingles added on top.  I could get really, really used to this.

He carried two beers to the table and sat down across from me. 

Then, a herd of elephants knocked on his door.  I could hear the small-child squeals even before Sam let in the hordes.

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam, tomorrow is our birthday!”  This was said in unison by the two cute creatures trying to climb up his legs.  “Mom’s parking the van; she’ll be up in a minute.”

Sam picked up one of the girls and kissed her.  “Was I expecting you?”

“Nah.  We’re a surprise.  Mom said you’re never doing anything on Friday nights, so it would be okay.  It’s okay, right?”

The female version of Sam walked in the door.  “Hey, Sam.  The natives were restless, so I brought them over to trash your place, instead of ours.”

Sam nodded in my direction.  “Heidi, meet Mick.  Mick, this is my sister who never calls before she drops by.  She doesn’t think I have a real job or a social life.”

One of the girls giggled and grinned at me.  “Uncle Sam writes books about kissing and yucky stuff like that. Hi, I’m Lindy.  This is Rowan.”

Heidi was shifting from shocked to amused.  “You have a date?”

“Ssh,” said Sam.  “You’re making me look bad here.”

She made an apologetic face at me.  “So sorry to interrupt.  Has Sam told you about these menaces?”

“Until a moment ago, she was believing the abandoned-child-of-aliens story,” said Sam.  “You have awesome timing, sis.”

Lindy came and sat beside me.  “Are you helping Uncle Sam with his books?”  Heidi and Sam both cracked up.  Thanks a lot, guys.

“Nope.  I cooked dinner.”

Heidi sobered up a little.  “You cook?  Has Sam asked you to marry him yet?”

“Only once, but he hasn’t tried the food yet.  There’s plenty, if you want some.  It’s Thai curry.”

Heidi beelined for the stove.  The pint-sized inquisition continued.  “How come you’re cooking for Uncle Sam?”  I was going to be in over my head really soon.

“We went to a baseball game, and we got hungry.”

Lindy frowned.  “The Bulls lost.  They shouldn’t have pulled the pitcher.”  Oh, thank goodness.  Stable ground. 

“That’s what I think.  Your Uncle Sam disagrees.”

“Come on,” said Sam.  “It was the umpire’s fault; he called everything a strike.”

“Yeah,” said Rowan.  “But if we’d left our starting guy in, he probably wouldn’t have walked nearly anybody with a strike zone that big, and then we would have won.”  I gave her a high five.  That’s the story I’d stuck with all the way home from the ball park.

“You guys want your birthday present early?” asked Sam. 

Duh.  The girls did their squealing-elephant routine again while Sam went to fetch the packages.  I was impressed.  He already had the felted seahorse sets wrapped, complete with pink bows.  I hardly ever get to watch kids meet my toys, so this was a big moment for me.

Lindy just oohed.  Rowan gave Sam an adorable grin and a thumbs up.  He nodded toward me.  “Mick made those.”  This time the oohs and thumbs up were aimed in my direction.

Heidi reached down for one of the seahorses.  “You seriously did this?  They’re so soft and pretty, all these colors.”  She looked up at me.  “You cook, make toys, and talk baseball?  You’re pretty much Sam’s perfect woman.  How did you two meet?”

Sam rode to the rescue.  “Over burritos.”  I had no idea if he’d edited for my sake, his, or the girls’, but I was grateful for the reprieve. 

Heidi laughed.  “You met a girl at Cosmic?”

Sam wiggled his eyebrows.  “Yep.  You lose, sister of mine.  All the burritos I can eat for a month.”  He patted his stomach.  “I’ve been saving space.”

Heidi zoned in on me with one of those mom looks.  “Did you guys really meet at Cosmic?”  So much for the reprieve.

I waffled and threw Sam to the lions.  “Close.  It was our first date.”  I’m an awful liar.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulders.  “Almost my perfect woman.  Now you’ll have to feed me for a month, since you let Heidi wiggle out of our bet.”

Heidi rolled her eyes.  “I think this time, you finally picked a woman smart enough to figure out the flaw in that logic, brother of mine.  Mick, it was very nice to meet you.  Let me know when you’d like to come over and meet the rest of the crew, and I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.  Lindy, Rowan, time to go.  You’ll see Uncle Sam at your party tomorrow.”

Lindy looked at me.  “Aren’t you coming to our party, too?  You should.  There’s going to be a bounce house and everything.”

And that’s how I ended up spending four hours of my Saturday manning the doors of an inflatable castle.

Chapter 14

Derrick was quitting, too.  Monday mornings had gone all to hell lately.

First, I was tired.  No drunken orgy could possibly cause as much next-day exhaustion as a birthday party for six year olds.  It had taken me all of Sunday just to regain my hearing.   Sam hadn’t been in much better shape, and he’s had a lot more practice. 

Second, Derrick wasn’t just quitting; he had some crazy business scheme that he only wanted to talk about in whispers.  Maybe my hearing hadn’t gone back to normal. 

I dragged him outside with me.  “So, tell me this again.  What business are you starting?”

Derrick spoke in a more normal voice.  “Lily and I had this idea to blend online gaming with a dating site.  Sort of ‘matchmakers for geeks’, but you get to meet in the virtual world first.  You can learn a lot about someone from how they play.”

I considered that for a moment, then decided I was unqualified to comment.  I might have some geek genes, but I’ve spent less time online gaming than cheering for Duke.  I decided to focus on the bigger issue.  “And you have to leave to do this?”

“Sure.  It wouldn’t be ethical to work for two online-dating companies.”  He grew a loopy smile.  “Besides, Lily and I really want to do this together.  We know some awesome gamers to help us out, and they’re all totally jealous we hooked up in real life.  We want to help other people find each other just like we did.”

That would be adorable, if it didn’t leave me as the match team of one.

Miri came flying out of the building.  “Get back inside,” she hissed.  “They’re about to announce the
Match the Loser
winners.”

Cripes, I’d forgotten all about that.  Even happier Monday.

Our CEO’s voice was already booming over the loudspeakers.  I am not a fan of the loudspeakers; they remind me of junior high.  Fortunately, the CEO doesn’t want to talk to us peons all that often.  He was still thanking a long list of people, so we hadn’t missed anything.

People were drifting into the hallways.

Finally, our CEO got to the good stuff.  Derrick made the top ten, his best finish ever.  Maybe Lily helped.  It seemed like a good sign for their new dates-for-geeks venture.

“The second runner up is Crystal Jenkins from Human Resources.”  We could hear perky squeals from the other end of the floor.  Crystal works day and night on her matches, so she’s usually in the top ten.

“The first runner up, with her highest score ever, is Miri Agostopoli, from our match team.”  Miri had been dethroned.  She didn’t look too devastated.  In fact, she looked mostly curious.  I suddenly had very sweaty palms.  If Miri hadn’t won…

“And the winner of our contest, rounding out the total dominance of the match team, is Michaela Dreyer.”  It took a moment to realize that was me.  I wasn’t sure winning the contest was worth the unveiling of my real name.

Okay, yes it was.  First prize came with $2,000.

Everyone else looked clueless until Miri screamed and started dancing me around the halls.  A few sore losers disappeared back into their cubicles.  Everyone else crowded into the break room for celebratory cake.

Miri gave me ten minutes to indulge my victory before dragging me down the hall to my office.  Derrick followed her.  “Spill, girl.  How’d you win?”

I laughed.  “I’ve been asking you that for two years, and you never spilled.  How will I win next time if I tell both of you how I did it?”

Derrick threw a paper airplane at me.  We’re mature like that.  “Miri and I are both leaving, great-and-wise team leader.”

I scowled at him.  “Don’t remind me; it’ll deflate my happy bubble.”  He was right, though. They were leaving, and I was itching to blab.

Miri held out her little finger.  “I won’t tell, pinky swear.” 

I threw Derrick’s paper airplane at her.  It had some serious flight skills.  “You know how we sometimes talk about how clients start off really picky, or they have unrealistic expectations—looking for their dream guy, or girl, or whatever?

Well, I figure anyone who’s been in our dating pool for six months is either hopeless, or has had some time to get a little more realistic.  We’re also having to cast a wider net for their matches.”

Miri and Derrick nodded.  We’d spent plenty of match-team meetings trying to find new candidates for some of our long timers.

“We try hard, but honestly, that probably means their most recent dates have been pretty uneven.  Maybe we get lucky, but really, their best potential match pool is the one at the beginning.”

I was losing my audience.  That’s what happens when you keep telling them stuff they already know. 

I got to the point.  “So, for the contest, I went back to their initial match pool, and I sent them on a second-chance date.  I looked for dates early on where the report was fairly positive, and their match was still showing available in our system.”

Miri got it.  “You sent them on repeat dates?”

I grinned.  “I did.  One date’s pretty fast to make decisions, and I thought maybe some of them would be a little more open-minded the second time around.  Looks like it worked.”

“You’re so smart.  First impressions aren’t always right.”  This from the woman who has to know someone’s astrological sign before she agrees to a date.

Derrick started typing madly into his phone.  “That is such a brilliant idea, Mick.  I’m texting Lily.  We need to get our geeks to hook up more than once before they decide on the match.”  He looked up.  “Is it okay if I borrow the idea?”

“Sure.  You know they never change the algorithm around here just because someone has a good idea.”  Derrick went back to his mad typing.

“What gave you the idea, Mick?” asked Miri.

I looked over at Sam’s flowers.  They were looking a little sad, but they deserved one last day to savor the victory they’d inspired.  “You know, I almost didn’t go on a second date with Sam.  Got hung up on the erotica thing.”

Miri shook her head.  “Libras are never prudes like that.  Are you totally sure you weren’t born in January?  You’d make a great Capricorn.”

“I studied fish sex; how big a prude can I be?  Besides, I got over it.”  Well, Jazie harassed me until I got over it, but same difference.  I picked up a petal that had fallen off of one of Sam’s flowers.  “I gave us another chance, and I’m glad I did.  I thought that might work for my Losers too.”

Crystal stuck her head in my office.  “Michaela, can I see you in my office, please?”  She looked very serious.  Maybe she wasn’t as thrilled with third place as she’d originally seemed.

I shrugged at my team and followed Crystal to her office. The Vice President of HR was there too.  That was ominous.  He almost never interrupted his golf game for real work.

“Is this about posting hires to fill my team?” I asked.  “I promise I’ll get on that right away.”  Possibly even this week.

Crystal shook her head.  “We’re not going to be filling those positions, Michaela.  In fact, we’re downsizing the entire match team.  You’ll get one month of severance pay for each year of service.  It’s a very generous termination package.”

I was being fired?  On the day I won
Match the Loser
?  “My team all finished in the top ten of the contest this morning.  Why are you getting rid of the match team?”

VP guy answered.  “We’ve decided to allocate more resources to our automated matching algorithms, really take them to the next level.”  In other words, someone finally figured out that having real live people doing the matches wasn’t very web 2.0.

I’d never been fired before, but even I knew it was useless to argue with HR.  They’re just the messengers.

I tried to imagine the match algorithm without all of Derrick’s flags and fixes, the ones the company had always flatly refused to build into the algorithm.  No more one-night-stand ‘Lothario’ flags, no more ‘kinky’ warnings, no more liars stamped with ‘pants on fire’.

Yeah.  Good luck with that.  I made a mental note to get my profile out of the MatchMakers’ system. Pronto.

I would have to get Derrick to do it for me.  After rejecting a grief counselor, I was escorted out of the building.  Miri had to rescue my flowers.