Free Matchmakers 2.0 (A Novel Nibbles title) by Debora Geary Page A

building.  “Get back inside,” she hissed.  “They’re about to announce the Match the Loser winners.”
    Cripes, I’d forgotten all about that.  Even happier Monday.
    Our CEO’s voice was already booming over the loudspeakers.  I am not a fan of the loudspeakers; they remind me of junior high.  Fortunately, the CEO doesn’t want to talk to us peons all that often.  He was still thanking a long list of people, so we hadn’t missed anything.
    People were drifting into the hallways.
    Finally, our CEO got to the good stuff.  Derrick made the top ten, his best finish ever.  Maybe Lily helped.  It seemed like a good sign for their new dates-for-geeks venture.
    “The second runner up is Crystal Jenkins from Human Resources.”  We could hear perky squeals from the other end of the floor.  Crystal works day and night on her matches, so she’s usually in the top ten.
    “The first runner up, with her highest score ever, is Miri Agostopoli, from our match team.”  Miri had been dethroned.  She didn’t look too devastated.  In fact, she looked mostly curious.  I suddenly had very sweaty palms.  If Miri hadn’t won…
    “And the winner of our contest, rounding out the total dominance of the match team, is Michaela Dreyer.”  It took a moment to realize that was me.  I wasn’t sure winning the contest was worth the unveiling of my real name.
    Okay, yes it was.  First prize came with $2,000.
    Everyone else looked clueless until Miri screamed and started dancing me around the halls.  A few sore losers disappeared back into their cubicles.  Everyone else crowded into the break room for celebratory cake.
    Miri gave me ten minutes to indulge my victory before dragging me down the hall to my office.  Derrick followed her.  “Spill, girl.  How’d you win?”
    I laughed.  “I’ve been asking you that for two years, and you never spilled.  How will I win next time if I tell both of you how I did it?”
    Derrick threw a paper airplane at me.  We’re mature like that.  “Miri and I are both leaving, great-and-wise team leader.”
    I scowled at him.  “Don’t remind me; it’ll deflate my happy bubble.”  He was right, though. They were leaving, and I was itching to blab.
    Miri held out her little finger.  “I won’t tell, pinky swear.” 
    I threw Derrick’s paper airplane at her.  It had some serious flight skills.  “You know how we sometimes talk about how clients start off really picky, or they have unrealistic expectations—looking for their dream guy, or girl, or whatever?
    Well, I figure anyone who’s been in our dating pool for six months is either hopeless, or has had some time to get a little more realistic.  We’re also having to cast a wider net for their matches.”
    Miri and Derrick nodded.  We’d spent plenty of match-team meetings trying to find new candidates for some of our long timers.
    “We try hard, but honestly, that probably means their most recent dates have been pretty uneven.  Maybe we get lucky, but really, their best potential match pool is the one at the beginning.”
    I was losing my audience.  That’s what happens when you keep telling them stuff they already know. 
    I got to the point.  “So, for the contest, I went back to their initial match pool, and I sent them on a second-chance date.  I looked for dates early on where the report was fairly positive, and their match was still showing available in our system.”
    Miri got it.  “You sent them on repeat dates?”
    I grinned.  “I did.  One date’s pretty fast to make decisions, and I thought maybe some of them would be a little more open-minded the second time around.  Looks like it worked.”
    “You’re so smart.  First impressions aren’t always right.”  This from the woman who has to know someone’s astrological sign before she agrees to a date.
    Derrick started typing madly into his phone.  “That is such a brilliant idea, Mick.  I’m texting Lily.  We need to get