Dating By Numbers. Jennifer Lohmann

person we happen to be with at the time?”

      “I don’t think so. I mean, I think you take each person at face value and not think about how they compare to competition. Only the people able to do that get off the hamster wheel with someone. The others are either running forever or get spun off alone.”

      “Yeah?” Jason wished he had another drink. Some excuse to sit here and keep talking to Allison. The removal of hope and expectation made their conversation interesting. “Sounds decidedly unromantic. Is that how you did it?”

      “I like to think that I fell in love the old-fashioned way. I met a guy, liked him and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him. Nothing unromantic about that. The computer helped some and hindered some, but no more and no less than relatives would have one hundred years ago. Only the skills I used to navigate it were different.” Her smile was soft, without a trace of irony, and her focus had drifted away from him, probably to the man in her life.

      No denying it. He was jealous.

      “Fell in love? But you’re out here with me.”

      “Yeah. Stupid. I just realized, as the words slipped out of my mouth, that I’m really falling in love.” She nodded to the check still lying between them on the table. “I’m going to head out. Sure you don’t want to split that?”

      “Leaving from here to see your guy?”

      She rolled her eyes. “From a date with one guy into the bed of the man I love? No. Custody switch is tomorrow. I might as well get a head start on my cleaning. Got to keep up a good example for the kids,” she added with a wry smile.

      Her chair squeaked against the floor as she backed it up. “Thanks for the evening. I enjoyed my dinner. And the conversation, especially the last part.”

      He pushed his own chair back and stood. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for the advice.”

      “You look like you need it. But hell, probably all of us do.”

      They walked out to the sidewalk and Jason walked her to her car. When they got there, she leaned in and he gave her a hug. She was warm and smelled good. Postpressure, she’d proven to be interesting and funny. But it was like hugging a cousin for as much interest he had in her beyond tonight.

      The truth of modern dating had to lie somewhere between her starry-eyed old-fashioned romance with new technology and his wondering if you got out of the game with the person you were with when you decided you didn’t want to play any longer. As nice as she was, Jason would still take his toys and go home rather than end the game now, with Allison.

      Lucky man who had her, both being with a great woman and for finding that spark in the first place. Jason didn’t think he’d met any woman who could lure him to stop playing yet, and he’d been looking. He wasn’t lying to himself about that.

      “Good luck with your guy,” he said as she got into her car.

      “Good luck to you, too. It’s hard out there.” With that, Allison slammed the car door and she was out of his life.

      Jason turned to walk to his car. He spent his career making and maintaining contacts, and he’d never quite gotten used to dating, where trying to keep in touch with everyone you shared a cup of coffee with was creepy. Watching someone like Allison, who was smart and interesting, drive out of his life would never be fun.

      He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket. He’d be on Marsie’s floor on Monday to fix some guy’s desk and bring her a cup of coffee before asking her if she’d had any luck with her profile. He’d also like to hear her opinion on the flyby nature of dating. She was sure to have something unexpected and insightful to say. It was one of the reasons he liked working with her so much, beyond his hopes that she would lean over and he’d catch a glimpse of her cleavage.

      He wasn’t a total dog.

       CHAPTER THREE

      WELL, I’M NOT sick to my stomach.

      Rolling over in bed made Marsie reconsider her hopeful sentiment.

      Yet.

      Once her head had found its place on her shoulders, she swung her feet over the side of the bed and steadied herself with the help of the nightstand as she stood, her toes sinking into the plush rug. All things considered, she wasn’t that bad off. She didn’t vomit as she reached down for her clothes and the throbbing in her head hadn’t hit a level she would call pounding. She was too old to go through one, two—please, God, say it wasn’t three—bottles of wine with Beck in one sitting.

      The mattress sank as her butt hit, helping to steady her when she put on her socks. Everything about Beck’s guest room was cushiony. Her feet sank into the rug. The mattress had practically swallowed her whole. The curtains had enough fabric to be properly called draperies. The only nonsoft things in this room were the tchotchkes covering every flat surface and the wood of the four-poster. The guest room made up for the rest of the house with its hard edges and modern furniture. Whenever Marsie stayed over, she wondered if this was what the rest of the house would be like if Beck lived alone, or if she put all her girly decorating energy into this one room and the effect would be diluted if she had the entire house to play with.

      Not that Marsie imagined she would ever find out. Beck and Neil had been together since their first year of a college and, since Marsie had known them, had only seemed to grow into a more solid couple.

      As she passed the mirror over the dresser on the way to the door, she considered checking her hair. But if her hair was as bad as she thought, she’d feel the need to fix it, and she didn’t think she had the energy. Better not to know.

      The sound of a couple arguing assaulted her ears as soon as she opened the door. Not that Beck and Neil were being loud, but the anger in their voices pulsed through the house like a sonic wave. She shut the door, then backed into the room and sank her butt back into the bed with a sigh.

      All couples fought, at least according to all the books she read—both when she had still been trying to work things out with Richard and in preparation for knowing if her own future marriage was healthy. Apparently fighting could even be good for a marriage. Better to get everything out in the open. Of course, all the books stressed the importance of how couples fight, but she wasn’t going to listen at the door to evaluate how Beck and Neil were doing.

      Instead, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened her dating app.

      Nothing.

      This was what she had remembered from last time ’round. People said women were inundated with requests for sex and a boob shot, but she never had been. Which was fine by her. But despite all the preparation that had gone into this round of online dating, she was no more successful than when she’d plopped her résumé online and crossed her fingers.

      Marsie Penny, you are smarter than that. She tossed her phone to the end of the bed. She’d also been told not to take anything that happened in online dating personally. Anyway, she’d started back into this thing only last night. There was no way she could interpret one night of no responses as an indication of her worthiness as a person. That was the hangover and listening to her best friend’s marital spat talking. Plus, if she allowed herself to go down this road, she’d be entering a dark, scary forest from which she might not return. She had to remain positive and not take anything that happened in online dating to heart.

      Easier said than done. Especially with her phone still within arm’s reach. She had set herself up a schedule of when she could check for messages, and she’d be breaking that schedule if she checked again.

      And Jason said online dating was fun! Well, she’d never understood Jason, and thinking about online dating and him didn’t help her comprehension. She needed to stop thinking about him at all, unless it was in relation to work. Work was safe.

      What she needed was to get out of this room and leave her phone ensconced in the divot made