“No, Mr. Keller, we leave that approach to online dating agencies or apps.” She infuses enough disgust in the word “app” to let me know exactly what her opinion is of the Tinders of the world. “The questionnaire you just filled out”—she taps the folder—“might’ve appeared overlong or silly, but I can assure you it’s been the secret to our success.”

“Okay,” I say, not entirely convinced. “You pull up a potential match, and then what? You show me the other person’s profile?”

“No, never. The answers you provided today are solely for the staff’s eyes. They’ll never leave this office.”

I groan inwardly. If I’d known that I wouldn’t have put so much effort into the open-ended questions. I mean, what’s the point if no one is ever going to read them?

“At what point do I actually meet someone?”

“Once we’ve selected a potential match, we’ll send you on a blind date.”

“What? Without even seeing a picture of the other person?”

Jennifer shuffles through my questionnaire until she reaches a specific page. “You stated physical appearance is not a critical aspect for you.”

“Well, it isn’t, but I thought I’d—”

“We prefer to send our clients to a meeting unbiased. Don’t worry, Mr. Keller, we do the legwork for you and only propose compatible dates. It’s how our model works, and also why we can offer a partial refund to clients who haven’t found a match within five dates. It rarely happens.”

Five blind dates. Sounds like my worst nightmare come true. And on top of that, I’m paying for the privilege… and a hefty amount, at that.

Once Jennifer escorts me back to the reception, Teresa is free to make me sign the contract and put a significant dent in my finances.

With a wallet considerably lighter, and in a darker mood than when I arrived, I’m about to leave the agency… when Medusa walks in.

Her eyes immediately narrow as they lock on mine, and her lips curl in a teasing grin. She doesn’t even say “hello” before launching into a head-on attack. “You didn’t waste any time, I see. Are you that afraid of losing?”

“You’re not too far behind.”

Medusa advances on me and stops a few inches short so that when she talks again only I can hear. “Yes, I’m eager to find a partner.” Being this close to her, I’m able to smell her for the first time. An annoyingly pleasant scent of vanilla and patchouli. “Seeing you gone will be the cherry on my wedding cake.” Then, raising her tone to normal once more, she adds, “Have a good day.”

“You, too,” I snap, and storm out of the agency.