“Sorry.” I shake myself out of my little trance when I
catch Steph studying me oddly. “I get lost sometimes.
Thinking about matches. It’s like a database up here.” I point
to my head and laugh, but it sounds totally fake.
Steph nods. “I know that you do offer the service
where you write messages to prospective matches until it’s
serious. I’m pretty busy and, like I said, I’m not very good at
writing things or being romantic. I’m way more of a realist. I
guess maybe that’s my science brain.” She laughs for real. A
beautiful sound that makes my stomach clench again.
“Yes,” I quickly assure her. “I’m an English major,
which is why I work at a dating agency and not, well, a job
that fits my skill set. What does an English major do exactly? I
don’t know. I never knew. It was just the one thing I was
always really, really good at. So I’d be happy to write your
messages. You’re in good hands.”
“Thank you.”
“About the other problem, the, uh, money issue. I’ll try
to think of something that could help.”
“Don’t worry. That’s not your problem. It’s mine. I’ll
figure it out. Maybe I’m being too sensitive. Maybe the fake
name would work. I’ll try to deal with that. Most of the
problem was that I never really met anyone I clicked with.
That was probably half the battle.”
“Good. I’ll take care of that half.”
“Thank god. I really don’t want to have to resort to
dating any more of my parents’ choices and turning them
down. It’s like something out of a horror movie. Which I love,
by the way. If he likes horror, all the better.”
I have to say, I’m surprised. I get so scared watching