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  The camera panned to follow their movements, and Fia cleared her throat. “Altera, Dylan, I’m glad to introduce you to each other. I hope this is a fun and memorable night for you both.” It felt like she had nails in her throat, so she cleared it again and smiled. “This is one of the most romantic restaurants in town.”

  Dylan came up and stood right in front of Fia. He smirked. “Where’s your notebook? Aren’t you going to be taking notes on us?”

  “Notes?” Fia wrinkled her brow.

  “You know, your field guide to the wild animals. Like Jane Goodall and the chimps.”

  “What are you even talking about, Dylan?” She kept a locked smile on her face, darting her eyes to the camera, then back to the man in front of her.

  “Famous naturalist. I’m surprised you aren’t dressed in camouflage and hiking boots so you can hide behind a potted plant and see if we hold hands.”

  “Ha, ha, so funny!” she said.

  “Because you’re so into the scientific regime, and all, with those ridiculous surveys,” he added. “I’m wondering why you don’t have us measured and weighed and put through some field tests.”

  “Maybe if you were as interesting as a gorilla, I’d bother doing that,” she smiled through gritted teeth. “Haha!”

  The camera guy bit back a chuckle and made a strange noise. Chelsea, a bemused look on her face, looked from Dylan to Altera to Fia. “So, for tonight!” she cut in. “Tell us about what you have set up for the romantic date, Fia.”

  “So, they’re going to enjoy a gourmet meal, prepared by world-renowned chef Matsumishi, along with a delicious white wine. Afterwards, they’ll have dessert while listening to the live band.”

  “Altera, tell us a little bit about yourself!” Chelsea and the cameraman turned to the woman.

  As Altera talked about marathons and the UN, Dylan stepped in closer to Fia and whispered, “Is dessert bananas, Fia? Because you think we’re like little predictable monkeys?”

  “Oh, Dylan,” she replied. “No. For you, it’s a British dessert called spotted dick.”

  He guffawed, then narrowed his eyes. “How long are you all planning to watch us tonight, Fia?”

  “As short a time as possible,” she said. She paused, then said in an undertone, “But if you choose to make your own vids and upload them to YouTube, I have no control over who sees and doesn’t see that.”

  He snorted. “Trust me, I’m not into public displays. But you already know that, I’m sure, from reading all of my data.”

  “Dylan, reading the survey results doesn’t mean I have a direct dial into your soul or something,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Excuse us!” Chelsea giggled, but it sounded forced. “It seems like we’re having two separate conversations here, and I need us to focus! I’d love to get Dylan and Altera going, Fia, so let’s send them off in style!”

  “Of course.” Fia nodded. She touched the pearls around her neck, and watched as Dylan’s eyes tracked her gesture. She felt her cheeks turn hot. “Dylan, Altera, please have a wonderful time! I’ll check in with you both in a few days to follow up.”

  “Maybe you can give us a numerical graphical representation of your assessment,” added Dylan to her, with a broad smile.

  Chelsea directed the cameraman to follow them into the restaurant, then turned to Fia. “Well! She really is a stunner. You really pulled off a good one there, Fia. She is gorgeous. The camera will love her.”

  Even though she’d been bitterly jealous of Altera just a second ago, this comment made Fia bristle. “She’s educated at Harvard, has extensive experience, and a really interesting set of hobbies. She’s so much more than her looks.”

  Chelsea waved her hand dismissively. “Of course you found someone well rounded,” she said, her voice a little bored. “I expected no less. But thank God she’s pretty. On camera, most of the game is all about visual impact.”

  Fia bit her lip. “All due respect, in order for me to make matches with lasting potential, looks are just a small part of the equation.” Although, inside, she felt uneasy at the lie. Chelsea was right, looks were critical to so many of the clients, the men even more than the women. So unfortunately, while she was able to let in some men who were not necessarily tens, the women had to all be bombshells to get attention in the oversaturated L.A. dating market.

  Chelsea scoffed. “I’m not even in the matching industry, but you need chemistry—that’s just common sense. Attraction, Fia, right?”

  Fia didn’t want to get into an argument, so she gave a stiff nod. “Attraction is definitely a requirement.”

  “That’s right.” Chelsea smiled as if she’d won an important point because she was an expert on the matter.

  Fia wanted to point out that if Chelsea was such an expert on relationships, she might not have been married and divorced three times already, one of them a public relations nightmare that had generated so much tabloid gossip that Fia felt that she knew more about Chelsea than she could want to learn in a decade. But that didn’t seem like the thing to point out right at this moment.

  “Well, only time will tell,” she said, forcing a smile, watching as the maître d ushered Dylan and Altera into the space.

  The camera crew followed, and the outside set crew dismantled the equipment. Chelsea darted off to consult with an assistant, then came back to remind Fia about next week’s morning show, and that she needed to work closely with the liaison to ensure she was there on time and prepared.

  After that, Fia decided to go home, rather than stare lamely at the outside of the restaurant.

  To her surprise, a text from Dylan came in a few minutes later while she was in her Uber.

  Dr. G, all’s quiet in here. Asked if they have bananas foster for dessert. Asked date if I should make gorilla noises to appease you in the shrubbery. Date not amused.

  She giggled, then clapped a hand to her mouth. She texted back. Your date has a name, and it’s Altera. On paper, you’re a perfect match. Just try, okay?

  Her phone was silent for a few minutes, then it buzzed again. You said she was smart. Why has she never heard of the subatomic particle theory and the Higgs Boson?

  Fia made a frustrated sound. Maybe because she, unlike you, is a normal human being? Don’t be a jerk. She’s amazing. She’s a lawyer. She’s very intelligent.

  How long do I have to stay here?

  Her heart both leapt and fell. It would be horrible if he walked out, not just for her business, but for Altera, who was so nice and deserved a good guy. But something inside of her really, really wanted him to walk out…and right into her arms. No! She didn’t want that. She couldn’t.

  She typed quickly. Don’t be a douche.

  A douche! Harsh words from someone who’s so all about love and appeasing clients. I like it.

  Please don’t tell Chelsea.

  Oh, now I own you, Fia. Big Mistake. Now I can blackmail you into anything I want to keep this information from Chelsea.

  Nice try, she replied. Chelsea already knows that you’re a douche.

  After that, he went silent, and she was left alone, wondering how his date was going, until she distracted herself with some Walking Dead on Netflix. Darryl was always good to take her mind off work-related things.

  The next day, she was on edge in the office. When Bryanna, a model, came in to check survey match results and talk about the dating process, she was distracted and unfocused. When the client left, she gave a sigh of relief.

  “You seem a little out of it,” observed Gracie. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I’m just waiting to talk to Altera about her experience last night with Dylan.”

  “I wonder if they slept together.”

  Fia shrugged, her stomach turning. “I don’t know. I don’t ask.”

  “But sometimes the clients say.”

  It was true. Occasionally, when female clients developed a strong rapport with Fia and Gracie, they came in giddy and excited, giggling like soro
rity sisters, spilling all of their sexy secrets and details, joy leaking like stars from their eyes. Other times, they just smiled and gave a little smirk, preferring to keep any details private.

  “So when is she coming in?”

  “I don’t know if she’s coming in. She may just call. Oh!” Fia grabbed her phone. “It’s her.” She tapped a button. “Hi, Altera! It’s good to hear from you.”

  “Fia.” Altera’s voice was flat. “I’m calling to talk about the date with Dylan.”

  “Yes?” Fia could barely keep her heart in her chest. Her emotions were an odd mix of hope and fear. She wanted Altera to say she’d had an amazing time; she needed Altera to disappear forever. Ugh.

  “So. Dylan.” Altera’s taking a deep breath was audible over the phone. “Fia, I’m just going to come right out and say this. It’s not going to work.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Fia’s heart pounded. She cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Can you tell me why?”

  “Yes. Yes, I can.” Altera sounded sort of mad. “Did they show you the video?”

  “Not yet. I’m not aware of anything—what happened?”

  “Well, I felt that it started out a little awkwardly, because he was teasing you, but I figured that was because you two work together.” Altera paused. “But then he spent a lot of time texting on his phone, and this is a high class establishment. You know, it’s not even about the quality of the restaurant, Fia. This was a date specifically set up for the two of us to meet and see if we clicked. I made myself emotionally available and cleared my calendar, and you know, he was really disinterested.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “And then he made some kind of comment about bananas and gorillas that, quite frankly, didn’t seem all that funny, although he laughed quite a bit. Listen, he’s very handsome, Fia. In terms of appearance and what I’m attracted to, you hit it one hundred percent. And I’m disappointed that we didn’t click on a personal level because”—her voice warmed a bit—“he is very attractive. And after the rough start, we actually had some great conversation. He’s fun and smart and very interesting. And flirty.”

  “Well, that sounds great. Like fun?”

  “Well, I don’t…Fia, it’s just not going to work. He’s super hot, you got that right, but as far as personality, I just don’t feel like we clicked. And at this point in my life, I’m not ready to start a relationship with someone who’s not a better fit, even if he’s sexy. Been there, done that, it never works out. I need to wait for the whole package. I’m sorry.”

  “No, Altera. You have nothing to be sorry for! I just, it’s just that, in the system, you matched so well. I’m surprised that…this happened.” She cleared her throat. “Well, let’s move on. There are several other men in the system who match quite well with you, and if you’re willing, I’d like to set you up with one of them for this coming weekend. Will that work?”

  Altera sniffed, then replied. “Yes, that will be okay. I’d like to hear more about him first this time, though. And I think the whole TV thing made it awkward, too, I have to say. At first I thought it was cool and exciting to be on TV, but it felt odd to have the cameras following us. It might have thrown me off my game.”

  “Well, no more TV for your next date,” promised Fia. “I’ll get it right for you, Altera.”

  Karen Oh from Morning Brew was on the phone. “So tomorrow morning at six o’clock, we need you here for hair and makeup and prep for the live segment?”

  Fia knew by now that Karen wasn’t asking, even if every sentence out of her mouth sounded like a question. “So I take it that Dylan did the date with Connie’s woman, too?”

  “Yes, he sure did.”

  “And, ah, was it good?”

  “Oh, you’ll find out all about it tomorrow. Chelsea said she doesn’t want me to say anything about it, because it would ruin the details for you? She said she’d rather have your reactions be natural on camera? She said don’t you think that’s a good idea?”

  What Fia thought was that Chelsea was kind of a bitch. “Absolutely, Karen. Good point.”

  “Chelsea often says she’s full of good points.” Karen Oh didn’t sound like she was joking.

  “Great, then see you tomorrow.” Fia rolled her eyes.

  When she hung up, she immediately called Grace. “Gracie! I need to go on TV again tomorrow. I’m freaking out because every time I go on TV, I feel like vomiting.”

  “Oh, I’m on it. I’ll be there in twenty minutes to help you pick an outfit and makeup.”

  “No, they’ll do my makeup for me.”

  “But you still need to pick a sexy dress. You know I’m the one with the fashion sense. Trust me.”

  “Okay, but I don’t want to do a weird crotch shot like in that one movie with what’s her name, when she lifted her leg and showed the guy everything. Remember that? So the skirt can’t be too short.”

  “Or it can be short; you just don’t act like a whore.” Gracie’s voice was cheerful. “We’ll practice. You can lift your leg over and over until you get it right.”

  “That makes me sound like a dog with a hydrant, Gracie.”

  Her friend giggled. “Well, when you stop looking like that, we’ll know you’re suave enough for live TV. See you in a few.”

  Hanging with Gracie helped calm her nerves, partly because Grace was her bestie, and also because Gracie came bearing delicious raspberry-blueberry gluten free muffins.

  “Mmm, soo good.” Fia dropped crumbs on her shirt and wiped them to the floor. “I just need a dog to get the scraps, like at my mom’s house. You literally never have to sweep, because no matter what you drop, Simon eats it. Even lettuce.”

  “I don’t know what’s weirder.” Grace took a big bite and swallowed. “That your mom’s dog eats lettuce, or that you actually drop lettuce on the floor when you eat. How do you do that? Lettuce is, like, the most drop-proof food in the world.”

  “Well, I guess I won’t eat any while I’m on Chelsea’s show.”

  “I guess not. That’s two things you need to remember: No spitting lettuce onto your lap, and no showing your vagina to the audience. But you’re smart. I’m confident you can manage both with aplomb and dignity.”

  “Your support is touching.” Fia swallowed some coffee. “So, okay, what should I wear, then? Do I look fat? Cameras add ten pounds, right?”

  “Oh, no, that’s a myth.”

  “Good, thank God.”

  “It’s more like twenty-five.” Gracie smiled. “But don’t worry. You’re so fit and slim, the camera could add fifty pounds and you’d only look mildly bloated.”

  “You’re really great for my ego.” Fia rolled her eyes. “Why don’t they have Slim View on cameras, yet, then? I mean, if they automatically make you look larger, just use their special Photoshop magic to”—she waved her hand—“take it off again. How is it possible that we landed on the moon and can unlock genomes, but can’t undo the horrible fattening camera effects?”

  “Right? Those shitty scientists, trying to cure cancer all the time, when they could be working on something truly meaningful,” agreed Gracie.

  “Assholes.”

  Grace took Fia’s hand. “Let’s examine your closet. We are archeologists on a mission to find the uncovered gem. Let us see what we can discover.”

  “I got this great new Boho top last week, all cute and gauzy with a floral pattern—”

  “BZZZZZ.” Gracie made a buzzer sound with her mouth. “Sorry, Grandma, no floral patterns. We need edgy, sexy and smart.”

  “What about floral doesn’t say that?”

  Gracie pulled a hanger from the closer. “Flowers say Innocent Hippie Girl On Beach Wants Her First Dick. We’re going more for the I’m Sexy and I Hook Y’all Up Right look. Like this.” She pulled out a black sheath dress.

  “That’s too short! Gracie, no. That dress is guaranteed to show too much thigh.”

  “Right?” Gracie nodded sagely. “You need to look hot because you repres
ent your business, which is hotness. It’s your asset, so play it up. Connie looks old and wise, even though she’s still sexy. You play to your strengths. Put it on.”

  “Fine.” Fia rolled her eyes, but internally agreed that the dress was awesome, and she had been waiting for the perfect occasion to break it out. It fit her like skin, smooth and sexy, but not too tight, and she felt good when she looked in the mirror.

  “See? Bombshell!” Grace rummaged in Fia’s jewelry box. “But no pearls. I know you like them, but you’re not doing Breakfast at Tiffany’s. You’re doing Netflix and Chill. So, maybe this.” She held up a dangling pendant with a diamond. “Tuck this little grenade between your boobies and watch the phone calls come in.”

  “You’re so stupid!” But Fia giggled and tried on the necklace. It did look good, and it did bring attention to her chest in a way that seemed more tasteful than trashy. “I like it.”

  “I knew you would.” Grace’s voice held contentment. “I’m good at this.”

  “You are.”

  “So, tomorrow, be cool and powerful and strong and smart and funny and witty.”

  “Oh, just that? Easy.”

  “You’ll kill it.”

  “And…we’re back here in the studio with our two amazing local matchmakers. Audience, please give a warm welcome to Connie Birnbaum, of Matches by the Millions, and Fia Martin, from Perfect Profiles!”

  Chelsea, relaxed and comfortable, swung her crossed leg and gestured to the two of them, sitting across from her on a luxurious red couch. Cameras surrounded them from several angles, the lights above were hot, and the faces in the studio audience blurred into a chaotic mix of noses and mouths, like something from a weird Dali painting, melting into the sun.

  Fia was only marginally more comfortable this time in front of the cameras, although Connie looked cool and easy, and Dylan’s sprawl was all alpha—sexy control.

  Chelsea pointed to a large white screen that unfurled itself from above. “Let’s take a look at how Dylan’s first dates went, and we’ll decide who did it better for him on this first round: Fia or Connie. Dylan, give a wave to the crowd.”