His Personal Relationship Manager

By: Jennifer Peel
Dating by Design – Book One


An algorithm is a procedure or formula for solving a problem. “Binary” means: composed of two pieces or two parts. A binary search algorithm finds the specified position of a specified input value. A binary search repeatedly halves the number of items to check until the answer is found. It is a conquer and search algorithm.

Chapter One

“So, let me get this straight. You’ve created a program that chooses the perfect mate for someone?”

I smiled, and refrained from sighing at the young male business reporter from Atlanta INtown. How many times had I been asked that question? I knew what I did for a living was, let’s say, a tad out of the ordinary. Okay … it was a lot out of the ordinary, but there was no denying its success. “The program is only part of the service we offer. That’s where we begin. Once we input each client’s personal data, it gives us an array of options, and from there we do more homework. For example, each one of our clients is required to go on one test date with a member of my staff before we ever set them up with another client. Purely platonic, of course.” I smiled slyly.

Bradly, the skeptical reporter, smirked. “Yes, of course. So how is the program you designed different from something like an online dating service?”

I stiffened in my very comfortable, yet highly stylish, leather office chair. “Besides the tailored and personal involvement we pride ourselves on, it’s all in the algorithms.”

“Care to share what those are, Ms. Marshall?”

I smiled as if to say, what do you think? “That is strictly proprietary and well-guarded.”

He almost sneered. “And how much do you charge for your services again?”

“I would encourage people to call us, or better yet, come in for a free consultation.” I hated talking price. And the punk in front of me, who was barely out of junior college, would probably exaggerate it anyway. Or perhaps he would call it extortion money, like the last reporter I’d had in here. And really, did price matter? I had hundreds of happy clients, and not once had anyone ever asked for a refund.

“One last question,” he said with the faux smile that seemed more like a sneer. “Don’t you feel like what you do takes the romance out of it, maybe even cheapens the experience?”

I loved this question. I was well-versed in my answer. “Not at all. Most people’s problems center around relationships. What we are doing, through our tried and proven method, is giving them the best chance to find success in a romantic relationship and, dare I say, even love and marriage. In this day and age, we do research on everything from the best school to attend to the car we buy. Why not do the same for the most important decision of your life?”

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, like perhaps he believed me. At least for a moment. “Does that mean you do the same for your relationships?”

“Time’s up.” I stood up and held out my hand to shake his.

He eyed me carefully before standing up and holding out his hand. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Marshall.”

“The pleasure was mine. Our receptionist, Meg, will validate your parking.” Without another word, I went back to work. I had more important things to do than talk to skeptical journalists. I’d had some new compatibility research come in and I wanted to include the data in my code before running the next batch of clients against it.

My partner in crime, Zander, popped his head in. Or should I say, Alexzander? He was so proud of his Greek name that meant “defender of mankind,” though he was neither Greek nor anywhere close to being foreign. He had grown up in the suburbs of Atlanta, like me, and looked like the all-American male. He even had a little bit of a Southern drawl.

“Hey, darlin’, how was the interview?”

I rolled my sable-colored eyes at him.

“Same as always, huh?”

“Well, at least this time he didn’t insult my intelligence by being surprised a woman developed the software we use, or call me a matchmaker.” I despised that word.

“Yes, I noticed he had all of his limbs attached, and he wasn’t wailing.”

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