Page 15 of No Match Found
I skimmed the options: rose, daisy, lily, tulip, peony, poppy, hibiscus. I checked theotherbox and typed outsucculents. Not technically a flower, but oh well. Flowers were a natural byproduct of their life cycle, right?
Grant leaned back, stretching his arms toward the ceiling.
I glanced at him. “Hey!” I covered my screen with both hands. “No cheating.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. Besides, there’s no such thing as cheating when there are no right answers. Right?” He scooted his chair back in, then grabbed his pencil and scribbled something on a pad of sticky notes next to Alex’s mouse.
It was about me.
I just knew it.
Remind me why I’d agreed to this?
I made sure he wasn’t watching my screen before I went back to answering questions.
“I’m pretty sure the application for the Secret Service isn’t this thorough,” Grant said.
It had been fifteen minutes, and I was ready to be done, even though the progress bar on my profile said I was only 8% into my profile setup. “We’re guiding people in what’s likely the most important decision they’ll make in their lives. Would you rather we ask them their favorite type of donut and call it good?”
His fingers clicked away on the keyboard. “Maplebar.”
I almost asked him if he’d tried the ones from Dawson’s Donuts—they were divine—but Katie interrupted.
“You guys might be the slowest users we’ve ever had.”
My gaze flicked to Grant’s screen to see how far he’d gotten. His mouse sat over a question about favorite dinners, but the one before wasHow would you describe your emotional availability?
He’d checkedI’m an open book.
I scoffed.
His head swung around. “Are you cheating?”
“Youare.I’m an open book? Really? Kind of rich after your questions about user honesty.”
“I’m testing the algorithm and your truthfulness safeguards.”
“Right…” I glanced at my watch. “I’d better go get ready for my meeting.” If he wasn’t taking this seriously, there was no reason for me to sit here self-analyzing and dredging up an unpleasant past.
“I should get going as well.” Grant clicked the mouse a few times, then stood. “Thank you, Katie. That was really helpful.” He turned toward me. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Same time tomorrow.”
He shot me a smile, then made his way toward the exit.
Katie and I both watched him.
“He’s a piece of work,” she said.
“Right?”
“So are you.”
I shot her an annoyed look and pushed in his chair, which he’d of course left sloppily sitting in the middle of the floor.
“Oops.” Katie grabbed the sticky note he’d jotted something down on and turned to go after Grant.
I grabbed her arm to stop her.
