“Not my story.”

Jess felt her best friend studying her while she pretended to be very engrossed in rearranging the pastry case. Fizzy had been uncharacteristically mum on the subject of River. After hearing of their DNADuo result, the rundown on the disastrous GeneticAlly meeting, and Jess’s theory that the statistics were completely bogus and most likely invalidated their entire business plan, Fizzy had stared at her in silence for a few beats before saying only “I get it.”

“You okay?” she asked now.

Daniel decided this moment was a good one to join the conversation, setting two sealed bags of beans down at the espresso bar. He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jess mumbled just as Fizzy practically shouted, “Did you not see that awkward run-in with Americano?”

“Why was it awkward?” Daniel took a beat to recollect, then said, “Oh, about the drink? Eh, don’t worry about that. It’s your first day.”

“No, Dan,” Fizzy said, exasperated with him for no good reason. “Because they matched.”

It felt like the entire coffee shop went silent in response.

Jess groaned. “Fizzy, I swear to God, I will barehand—”

“What level?” Daniel asked.

“What do you mean ‘what level’?” Jess gaped at him.

He ripped open a bag of espresso beans and poured it into the machine. “If we’re talking about DNADuo, I was one of the original samples,” he said proudly. “Back in my days at SDSU. When they were still taking… samples.”

It took a second for that to sink in, and when it did, all a blushing Jess could manage was a quiet “Gross, Dan.”

“I meant blood.”

“Didn’t sound like you meant blood.”

“Anyway, I did it again about a year and a half ago when they put out the call for people to help validate their spit kit.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and showed them the screen like they might see a thread of matches lined up there. “But I’ve never gotten anything above a thirty-seven.”

Fizzy’s interest was piqued. “Did you go out with her?”

“I did,” he said. “It was good, but I think we both had this weird expectation that it was nice but statistically unlikely to go anywhere?”

“I did wonder about that aspect,” Fizzy said. “I went out with a Silver the other day but, like, if you get anything lower than a Gold, do you just assume it’s most likely not going to work?”

“Even though,” Jess cut in quietly, “if you believe their data, the odds are significantly better of finding a lasting relationship with a Silver than with regular dating…”

Fizzy gaped at her. “Says the woman who won’t believe her own score.”

“What was it?” Daniel asked again.

Jess laughed. “It doesn’t matter. Fizzy’s right. I don’t believe it.” She wiped her hands on her apron and looked at Daniel. “What’s next, boss? Dishes? Restocking?”

He lifted his chin, undeterred. “Was it a Base Match?”

Fizzy looked at her, one eyebrow pointed sharply skyward. “Yeah, Jess. Was it a Base Match?”