by Amanda Tru
“A gourmet dinner prepared by a five-star chef.”
Of course! Camden barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
“And I suppose you are that five-star chef.” It wasn’t a question. He already knew.
“Ideally,” Bailey answered anyway.
That was it. He’d tried to be respectful and reasonable, but this now qualified as ridiculous. “I’m sorry, Bailey. I don’t deal in the world of the ideal fantasy. I’m here in reality where you can very swiftly kill a website if you have someone with absolutely no experience handle potentially thousands of profiles and make personal matches for people she doesn’t know. I’ve already okayed everything with Elise every step of the way, and she is completely on board with the scope and content of what I’ve done. I’m sorry, but you’re going to need to find a more appropriate receptacle for your dream. Maybe opening a brick and mortar matchmaking business is more your speed.”
Bailey’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve okayed everything with Elise? I don’t believe you! I have discussed all of my ideas with Elise, and she loves them! She already gave me her approval to move forward and instruct you to incorporate them.”
“Instruct me?” Camden’s incredulous look clearly communicated his disbelief. “Is that really what Elise said?”
“Well, she may not have used those exact words,” Bailey back-peddled and her gaze flickered to the hardwood once again. “But she definitely approves and said we could move forward with them.”
“We can’t both be right. Maybe we should just give Elise a call and settle this right now,” Camden said, wiggling his eyebrows and tossing out the challenge, fully expecting her to back down. He took out his phone and poised it expectantly.
“Fine with me,” Bailey said, confidently folding her arms back in front of her.
“Good morning, you two!” Camden’s mom greeted as she entered the office bearing two cups of coffee and a plate laden with two cinnamon rolls.
“Lydia, you don’t need to wait on us!” Bailey protested, though the stress on her face immediately cleared with the entry of their visitor.
“Nonsense.” Lydia handed the coffee to each of them and then set the cinnamon rolls next to the computer. “I thought you’d need some fuel to get your work done.”
Bailey shot a glance at Camden, a calculating look lighting her eyes. “Well, we seem to have already hit a bit of a snag in the work department. Maybe you could—”
“No,” Camden cut off flatly, setting the full coffee cup beside the empty one on his desk. At the rate things were going, he would need more than just those two cups to get him through the day. “Bailey, this is between you and me. We aren’t asking Mom’s opinion on our disagreement.”
“Disagreement?” Lydia asked worriedly. “That sounds quite serious. Maybe I could—”
“No,” Camden repeated firmly. “Thank you, but Bailey and I will figure it out.”
This was exactly why he didn’t want their office located at his parents’ house. He’d managed to keep his mouth shut last night because they had no other options. He loved his parents, but he was fiercely independent. Their helpfulness could feel smothering at times.
Besides that, the fact that his business partner was currently living with his parents while they operated the business out of their home was difficult for his pride to manage. It felt too much like a grown man who lived in his parents’ basement while holding his band rehearsals in their garage. Though he knew he didn’t qualify as a failure in any sense, he also knew that on the surface, he’d just gotten laid off from his job and was now starting a business at his parents’ house. Garage band or not, that didn’t look so good, and he definitely didn’t want his mother’s assistance at all in their business matters.
“Alright then,” Lydia said, not seeming bothered in the least by Camden’s dismissal. “Enjoy your cinnamon rolls and get lots done. I’m planning on a light lunch of chef salad and homemade bread. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
Bailey glared at him accusingly as soon as his mother left. “Is there a reason you didn’t want her opinion?”
“Yes!” Camden said immediately. “Chances are, she would have sided with you!”
Bailey looked surprised yet triumphant.
“Not that you’re right in the least bit,” Camden hurried to clarify. “In my mother’s mind, however, you’re the guest, and I should adapt to accommodate you. Mom is unfailingly hospitable, and she has always expected her children to make the sacrifice for someone else, even if she doesn’t take the time to understand the underlying issues. Mom isn’t a part of this business, nor does she know the first thing about dating, matchmaking sites, or the internet in general.”
“What are you waiting for then?” Bailey asked, indicating his phone laying on the desk by the keyboard. “If Elise is the only one with a valid opinion, give her a call.”
Camden shook his head and snatched up a large bite of cinnamon roll. “Nope. I changed my mind. I’m not going to do that either,” he said in between bites. “We are not two children who need my mom or Elise to solve our disagreement. If Elise really and truly liked both of our ideas, then she obviously intended for us to figure out a way to compromise and use both.”
Bailey was silent, and Camden finished his cinnamon roll. After he licked the last, gooey drop from his fingers, he stood to his feet and stretched, completely ignoring the disgusted look Bailey wore as she mutely watched him eat.
Walking over to a shelf, he pulled out a piece of paper, scooted his chair over to an open space on the long desk, sat, and began folding.
He hadn’t worked for three minutes before Bailey demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Folding origami,” Camden replied, not bothering to look up from his task. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Can you just not do that right now?” Bailey asked, her eyes narrowing and her voice going up in pitch with stress. “I can’t focus with you doing that. We’re supposed to figure this out, and you folding little origami animals isn’t helping.”
Wordlessly, Camden left the little cat half-finished and walked over to the open space in the middle of the office. He dropped to the floor, spread out, and quickly began pumping pushups.
“Arrgh!” Bailey cried. “That’s worse! How am I supposed to think with you doing that? Are you purposely trying to aggravate me?”
“You think you’re the only one who is trying to think?” Camden said, talking in between sets of ten pushups. “That’s what I’m doing. You may focus by staring off into space, but I focus by doing something. If you won’t let me fold paper, pushups are my only other option.”
Bailey put her hands over her eyes, refusing to even look at him as he busted out another set.
Camden continued, determined to finish his set and also enjoying that he’d found a way to needle her. He didn’t know why it bothered her so much, and he didn’t know why he took such perverse pleasure in bothering her. But both were very much true.
“If you take your shirt off, I’m leaving,” he heard Bailey mutter.
Breathing hard, Camden finished, stood up and grabbed his shirt as if intending to pull it over his head in one quick motion. “Is that a promise?”
Bailey groaned. “Do the origami. Please. Just no more pushups.”
Camden laughed. “No worries. I’m done. I think I’ve figured it out.”
“What?” Bailey asked, looking hopelessly confused.
Wow, the pushups really threw her off. I’ll have to remember that!
“I think I have a solution to our problem,” Camden explained, returning his chair to its position in front of the computer. “Why don’t we offer two options to our clients? People who register can choose whether they want a match chosen through a scientific algorithm providing a high degree of compatibility or a match chosen by a personal matchmaker who is virtually a stranger.”
Bailey smiled wanly. “You make that sound so appealing. We’ll adjust the wording, of cours
e, but that might be a good solution, at least while starting the business out.”
“So how do you want to gather information when someone selects the personal matchmaker option? Do you still want them to do a survey, or are you planning to play eeny-meeny-miny-mo with selecting a match?”
“Show me your scientific survey,” Bailey instructed leaning toward the computer. “I might be able to use the same survey answers to personalize the match. That would save time and make you happy, right?”
Camden brought up the list of survey questions, relieved that at least she seemed to be trying to compromise. If she consented to use the materials he’d already created, that would certainly make her ridiculous idea more attainable.
Camden moved aside to let Bailey scroll through all the questions, resisting the urge to scoot over and finish folding the origami cat. Camden had always needed to do something to focus or de-stress. As long as he could remember, he’d doodled in the margins of his school work. When he’d started focusing on computers, doodling was a more difficult option to carry with you. One day after college, he’d been in a particularly stressful meeting at work. Seeing a discarded sticky note on the desk, he’d picked it up and begun folding. From that moment on, origami had become somewhat of an obsession, but in a good way. Camden always tried to improve his skills with research and practice, and the more stress relief he needed, the more attention his origami habit demanded.
Now, with Bailey taking over at the computer, he needed something to occupy him, especially since he suspected this wouldn’t end well. So far, Bailey hadn’t approved of anything. She’d certainly given him no evidence to suggest this would be different.
The survey he’d developed was based on solid research, and he was proud of it. Though he’d never imagined himself the owner of a dating or matchmaking website, he firmly believed that Betwixt Two Hearts had the potential to be the highest quality, most successful matchmaking tool available, and it wouldn’t be because of Bailey Whitmore’s influence. Unfortunately, it would be in spite of it.
“This is quite the survey,” Bailey muttered.
“Yes,” Camden agreed. “I estimate it takes about forty-five minutes to an hour to complete, and we inform potential clients of that in the beginning. It is extensive, but not every question is weighted the same in the algorithm used to make the matches,” he explained. “For example, religious preferences are weighted to a higher degree than similar educational backgrounds. I put a lot of research into looking at other websites and investigating the science of love to develop an algorithm that will predict a relationship’s success with a high degree of accuracy.”
“The ‘science of love?’” Bailey echoed, her lips puckering up as if she’d bitten into a sour candy when she’d been expecting a sweet one. “How terribly romantic.”
Camden scooted away from her and happily returned to folding his paper cat, ignoring her sarcasm and letting her finish scrolling. With that kind of attitude, Camden no longer felt remorse for indulging in something that potentially annoyed her.
He hadn’t quite finished when Bailey’s incredulous voice broke the silence. “Are these questions for real?”
Apparently, it was a rhetorical question. Camden hadn’t managed to field a response before she spoke again, her tone reporting something so unbelievable, she found it humorous. “‘What is your political party?’ ‘What is your view on abortion?’ Seriously? What kind of questions are these?”
“Good ones!” Camden said firmly. “I did a lot of research. Scientifically, a couple has a higher rate of success if they share the same core values.”
“But they are boring!” Bailey practically choked on her own words. “There’s not even a smidge of romance in, ‘What is your highest level of education?’”
“There are other more romantic questions,” Camden protested, coming back to the computer and scrolling through the list. “See here? In this section, they need to choose if they are not skilled, somewhat skilled, or very skilled. The question is, ‘How skilled are you at keeping the romance in a relationship?’”
Bailey laughed, a tinkling sound merrily ringing through the room. “That’s your romantic question? That’s the most unromantic way of reducing romance to a mere checkbox. Anyone could say, ‘I’m very skilled at romance,’ but there is no meaning attached. Really, what exactly does that mean?”
Camden sat back in his seat and glared. “Like I said, I did significant research and developed an excellent algorithm that can predict a couple’s compatibility with a high degree of accuracy. Some of the questions might not be exciting enough to you, but the point of the site is to produce lasting relationships that result in marriage. These questions and my algorithm will do that. I’m not a matchmaker. I admit that. But neither are you.”
“I’ve worked with Elise.”
Camden nodded. “Right,” he drew the word out sarcastically. “I remember. At the library. That means that you are no more qualified to know anything about matchmaking or a dating website than I am. And I’m the one who’s done considerable research.”
Bailey turned to face him directly, speaking earnestly and, for once, without ridicule. “You can’t reduce romance to mere science and numbers, Camden. It doesn’t work that way. The beautiful thing about love is the magic of it. Two people can be highly compatible and hate each other. Most people don’t want to marry themselves.”
“It’s an algorithm,” Camden defended stubbornly. “Sometimes it places a higher value of compatibility if people don’t answer a question in the exact same way. For instance, it doesn’t match an extreme introvert with another extreme introvert, nor does it match him or her with an extreme extrovert. Instead, the value is placed on someone who is closer to the middle on the introvert scale. Bailey, it is not a simple program. It is wonderfully complex.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
Camden shook his head in confusion, wondering what he’d just missed. “What? That qualifies you how?”
With her overbearing confidence firmly in place, Bailey held her head high, studying Camden while looking at him at a downward angle. “I have a successful relationship. Love is not predictable by science and numbers. Otherwise, someone smarter than you would have cracked the code thousands of years ago. Experience is the qualification you are missing. In your case, I don’t think your relationship with your computer qualifies as a successful, long-term relationship. You cannot hope to predict something with which you have no experience.”
This time, Camden was not offended. He was amused. She knew nothing about him but seemed to be searching to find his weakness. Romantic love didn’t qualify as something he felt sensitive about, and from his observations of Bailey, he seriously doubted she was the love expert she claimed.
“How long have you been with your boyfriend?” he asked curiously.
“Two years,” Bailey answered proudly. “We met at a fundraising event in Seattle and have been together ever since.”
“Are you getting married?”
Bailey shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Eventually, maybe. We’re not in a rush. We’re not the type of people who need marriage to define our relationship. We know how we feel and are committed to each other, not to a piece of paper that states that as a fact.”
Camden snorted. “You’re just pretending. You’re no more qualified than I am, maybe less.”
“Qualified in what? Matchmaking? I have made a successful match with Dekker.”
“No, you haven’t,” Camden scoffed. “You’re not married. You’re not planning a future.”
“And how does that disqualify me?” Bailey protested.
Camden smiled gently and stood to return to the origami cat awaiting a few more folds. “Love, Bailey. Love. How can you find love for others when you have no idea what love actually is?”
“And you think you do?”
Camden nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I may not have experienced it yet, but at least I know what it looks like. From my perspec
tive, you’ve only experienced a lie.”
“You’re wrong,” Bailey said flatly, anger seething in the two words.
Camden shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll set the website up so that people can choose either option. You can work to help people find your version of love. I’ll give people their scientific results for their best matches and then pray that God blesses them with the real kind of love.”
Bailey rolled her eyes dramatically. “How gallant of you and fortunate for them.”
Camden grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t worry. You’re not excluded from my gallantry. I’ll pray for you as well.”
“Pray for me what?” Bailey sputtered.
“True love, Bailey. I’ll be praying for you to realize true love.”
“Bailey, are you even a Christian?”
Bailey gasped, too shocked to even know how to respond to Camden’s question. After working with the man for the past six days, she should be accustomed to his rude, abrupt manner. It was the evening of New Year’s Day, release day for their website, and they were caught in yet another argument. Yet again, Camden objected to the match she was trying to set up, claiming that the two clients didn’t share the same faith and were therefore incompatible. However, disagreeing with her shouldn’t excuse him for saying something so offensive.
“What kind of question is that?” she finally managed. “Of course, I’m a Christian.”
Camden frowned, obviously not satisfied or willing to swivel his seat back around to his own computer. “It’s just that you don’t seem to value the typical Christian ideals,” he explained. “When you tried to design your own survey, you weren’t interested at all in including any questions about religion. Thankfully, we compromised and adapted my original survey to include the more romantic questions you wanted, but that wasn’t your original preference. Plus…,” Camden hesitated.
“Plus, what?” Bailey seethed, wanting him to just get it over with.
