Page 5 of No Match Found
I was tempted to double down at the obvious challenge in his expression, but that would have been a bad move—and way too easy for him to debunk. “I didn’t say Matchifywasthe solution but that the inefficiency was begging for one. Matchify is a leap toward it.”
His mouth quirked at the edge, and so did his brow. “One small step for man?”
It was like he wanted me to dig myself into a hole so he could bury me in it. I wasn’t about to equate Matchify with putting a man on the moon, but in all honesty, how had Neil Armstrong’s step changed our everyday? Matchify, on the other hand, was saving people heartache and pain, putting them on the path to happiness.
I’d take that leap over Armstrong’s any day.
“Howdoyou measure success as an app?” he asked.
I smiled and turned to the graphic on my computer screenwith all our most impressive stats. “There are a number of metrics we go by, but a couple stand out. Users whose relationships begin via Matchify are 37% more likely than the industry standard to be together after six months. Around a fifth of Matchify users who complete three dating rounds end up in committed relationships, and 9% of those result in marriage.”
I watched his hand scribble on his notepad. I readjusted my glasses, but he had to have the worst handwriting in the known universe because I couldn’t make out a single thing.
Maybe he wasn’t actually writing anything—just trying to make me nervous.
“Isn’t it in your best interest for peoplenotto get married, though?” His eyes flicked up, looking at me over rims I now noticed were the slightest bit crooked. “Then they’d continue using your app, right?”
I barely stifled a scoff. This man did not pull his punches.
“That might be true if you only look at things on a surface level,” I replied, keeping a soft smile to prevent the dig from seeming too aggressive. “But we’re confident that providing users with the best possible experience will benefit both them and us most in the long run. Happy results for customers mean more people willing to give us a shot.”
Brooke would’ve been so proud of the balance of business and emotional appeal in my answer. She was always reminding me that each data point represented a person.
Despite my 10/10 answer, Grant didn’t write anything down.
“You mentioned that 9% of the”—he glances down at his chicken scratch—“20% of users end up married, but even that 20% is a subset, right? How many users do you have?”
So much for his scribbles being meaningless. He was definitely taking notes.
“Just shy of 400,000,” I replied.
“And how many of those complete three—did you call them ‘match cycles’?”
I was starting to really dislike Grant Wilder and his questions—and that slightly cocky expression that said he knew exactly what he was doing with them. I didn’t actually have the answer to this one ready at hand. That wasn’t something that happened often.
Apparently, my hesitation gave away my ignorance.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s generously assume that 60% of users complete three match cycles. That means, what?” He paused, his eyes fixed on me as he did the math. “Just over 1% of users find the person they marry through Matchify?”
What was he, a human calculator? Matilda’s nemesis?
I forced out a breathy laugh, determined to get through this interview with my composure intact. “Impressive math. While we don’t yet have the customer reach of say, Tinder, we make up for it with the quality of our services and our results. Those results may not impressyou,Mr. Wilder, but compared to the industry marriage average, which is well under 1% with even the most generous of estimates, we stand out. No question about it. We’re not facilitating hookups and swipes; we’re building relationships that last. And we’re only getting better.”
I’d never seen a smile so full of good-natured skepticism. “It’s Grant. You seem to really believe in your company.”
And you seem not to.“I do.”
The next fifteen minutes were a blur of hard-hitting questions Brooke’s pretty infographic never quite had the answers to and then a disconcerting dance of Mr. Wilder’s piercing gaze, his flickering amusement, and his constant scribbles.
His pencil finally stilled. “You’re a busy woman, Miss West, so I won’t take more of your time.” He flipped the cover of his notebook over so that it hid the pages.
I blinked. It was over?
That had to be one of the shortest interviews I’d ever done, though what it lacked in length it had made up for in intensity.
My stomach squirmed. I didn’t feel like I’d done Matchify justice—or that Grant had given me the chance to. Sure, I’dgotten through the interview without any severe mishaps or PR disasters, but only by the skin of my teeth.
I would weep no tears watching Grant Wilder leave Matchify, but I felt unsettled, all the same.
