The Blind Date

my SUV . . . just in case.
And if anyone knows how hard I am on myself, it’s River. No matter what I do, it’s not enough. If we hit expectations, we should’ve exceeded them. If I succeed, I could’ve done it sooner, better, somehow more. I’m capable of it if I put one hundred and ten percent in. Admittedly, I’m hard on the people around me too, expecting just as much from them.
Detail-oriented, focused, driven, hard-edged. These are traits you want in a boss or employee, but not necessarily in a friend.
We take the elevator all the way to the top floor where there are only two suites, the boardroom and Lady Elisa’s office. I mentally plan for the day this suite will be mine. I’ll change the carpet and chairs and move the desk so that I have the window at my back instead of my side the way Elisa prefers.
But that day is a long way off from where I currently am.
“Hey, Tina, Gina,” Riv greets Lady Elisa’s two executive assistants. Yes, two. One personal, one professional, equally smart and Pitbull-tough, and both at Elisa’s beck and call twenty-four, seven.
Gina brushes her dark hair behind her ear and her olive skin blushes at Riv’s simple greeting, and I have to roll my eyes. She’s way out of his league but doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Lady Elisa’s ready for you,” Tina says crisply, motioning us in. She’s Elisa’s work assistant and keeps her schedule tight and on time.
We enter Lady Elisa’s inner office, and no matter how many times I’m in here, I’m impressed and inspired again by what I find. Floor to ceiling windows that look out over Briar Rose, lush rugs underfoot, and a large desk that greets you as you enter.
But somehow, even though the office is large enough to dwarf even the largest of people, it’s impossible not to have my eyes drawn to Lady Elisa. She’s not in her desk chair, the tall wing-backed perch sometimes jokingly and quietly called her throne, but instead at the more casual, comfortable working table she uses when she wants her people to be comfortable.
It’s a good sign, but my nerves don’t relax in the slightest.
“Noah, River, good to see you,” Elisa says, gesturing to two seats at the eight-person conference table. “Have a seat. Tina will be in shortly with some coffee.”
“Thank you,” I reply. I don’t need coffee this late in the day, but I’m damn sure not going to say no. I’ll sip it politely and gratefully and then work out a bit extra to get the caffeine out of my system so I can sleep tonight.
River is a bit bolder, though. “Water for me, please.”
I want to slap him stupid. Or stupider. But Elisa doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a button and calling out to Tina, “Two coffees, one water, please.”
“Great. Now, let’s get to business. We’re obviously here to discuss your latest project, BlindDate. Dazzle me with the numbers,” Lady Elisa orders, sitting down in her chair.
She has faith in us, in the app, which means a lot, but these figures aren’t quite the razzle-dazzle I want them to be. They never are. I reach into my coat and take out the thumb drive I saved all my data on and plug it into the computer integrated into the table as River talks.
“We’ve made a good launch.” River starts on a good note. I get the computer up, and River continues. “As you see here, we’re currently in the top ten among social media apps in various app stores, which is a benchmark goal of the project.”
I flip to the next slide. “However, we’re not seeing the number of downloads we’d hoped for.”
That’s an understatement. I was hoping at this point to have five million or more people signed up, and we’re at one-tenth of that. Not that half a million is something to sneeze at, but it’s not going to set the dating world on fire the way I’d hoped.
“Hmm . . . okay, let’s review,” Lady Elisa says. “Noah, walk me through your thought processes on this and remind me where we are. It’s an evolution of your Friendzone app, correct?”
I appreciate that she remembers that much. Life Corp has multiple apps in the online store, some focused on finding love like BlindDate, but others focused on self-care, meditation, health, food, friends, and more. That Elisa has even a basic idea of what BlindDate is about is a relief and a compliment I don’t take lightly.
I take over the presentation from River, wanting to get the phrasing just right, the way I practiced it when we pitched this idea. “Exactly. When River and I developed Friendzone, one of the things we wished we could have done better was the interest matching system. Friendzone uses a pretty basic system that’s highly dependent on the user inputting their information accurately and truthfully.”
“And yet people don’t always answer accurately or honestly,” Lady Elisa says. “Not a big deal if they’re looking for someone to be bowling buddies with, but it’s perhaps a larger issue for a love connection.” She laughs lightly at the non-joke, and we chuckle along as expected. “So, what did you do?”
“We included a one hundred-question survey that is fed into a highly advanced algorithm to ensure good matches,” River answers.
“What makes it helpful is that the survey is judging psychologies and personalities even without the user’s awareness,” I add. “We worked with a team of psychologists to make it as comprehensive as possible.”
Lady Elisa whistles. “Excellent. So, the questionnaire and algorithm are what sets BlindDate apart from the rest of the field, making it different than Match, Tinder, Grindr, etcetera, which have been around a long time. That’s what we need to push as the number-one sales point. Make users want that high-percentage match number.” She makes a fist, lightly hitting the table to emphasize the great idea as if it’s not exactly what we’ve been doing with our ad campaign. Point made, she moves