I look away as I scan the café for another table. There’s one in a corner farthest away from the large one, which will make it harder to swoop in and grab the table once Nathan and his mom leave. Oh, well. How long can a two, three-year-old last in a café anyway? I’ll just be on high alert for the next half hour.

I squeeze my laptop onto the tiny table, where it takes up the entire surface area, and I log on. There’s an e-mail from Leanne asking to check in on me remotely this morning, and one from Jude saying he found someone in the Match pool he thinks he’s interested in.

I ping Leanne that I’m ready for her, and she sends me the remote access request, which I accept. I ran this morning; I’m on my second cup of coffee—thanks to Charles, I’m feeling pretty confident that Leanne isn’t going to see something she shouldn’t.

Then I click through to the profile Jude linked to. Twenty-five-year-old Bree, aka TheDuchessB. The first thing I notice is the first thing everyone notices on an online dating profile (and the reason Aisha’s never going to be out of a job): She’s attractive. Blond, tan, and fit, she’s definitely playing in the same gene pool as Jude, unless it just so happens that she has a photography consultant too. (Right. What would be the odds?)

Then I start to read. She’s looking for something a little more serious. Good listening, Jude. She enjoys ghost tours: nice, quirky little detail. And—what’s this—she likes classic, action-adventure fantasy films . . . I put two and two together with the screenname and bingo! Someone I can chat about Undersea with? This morning is shaping up to be better than expected.

I start to type a brief but pithy message. In his e-mail, Jude wrote that he has back-to-back clients today and probably won’t be able to hop online but has given me his log-in and blessing to send whatever I think is best. He’ll get a full report of all messages at the end of the day.

Greetings from the ’Neath, my liege. The Sea Lord sends his regards, I start out. Then I delete it. Better to include it at the end, a little wink instead of a full-blown geek-out.

From: GreatSc0t

To: TheDuchessB

Hi Bree, [always include their first name. It’s the simplest thing in the world, and yet, more than 65 percent of messages are cut-and-paste jobs—and they sound like it too.]