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Favourite Book: Catch-22

Drink of choice: double espresso

Thing you say more than any other: Next

Looking for: a wedding date, no strings

Pretty much bang-on to his picture, which was an anomaly unto itself. And Saskia did love an anomaly. That love had sent her from pure statistics into research in the first place. That moment reminded her why, as a seed of an idea sprang to life inside her.

Lifting her backside from her chair, she flicked through a pile of random papers till she found the press release Marlee at Dating By Numbers had sent over as part of the initial brief.

The number of people who had signed on—and only to that one site—was staggering. All of them had struggled using traditional avenues in their search for companionship, for sex, for love. Including her. And if a man who loved coffee as much as she did, had awesome taste in literature, and looked enough like a young Paul Newman to induce a drool epidemic had reached his thirties without finding someone, what would it take?

She’d been looking for an angle for her infographic, and she might just have found one.

When a massive Big Bang Theory mug appeared next to Saskia’s elbow, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “God, you scared me half to death!”

“Not surprised. You have that weird scientist look in your eyes,” said Lissy. The blue and purple tips of her long blonde locks bounced as she landed with a whump in the bouncy chair on her side of the paint-splattered old table they used as an office desk. “If it was legal I’d marry your espresso machine.”

“Get in line.” Saskia put her glasses on the desk, blinked to clear her eyes and, breathing in the rich scent of the cocoa enriched brew, let the huge mug warm her hands before closing her eyes and taking a sip. After Stu had taken off with everything she’d leased computers but bought a replacement espresso machine. Horse before the cart and all that.

“So, what are we working on?” asked Lissy. “The railway map thing? The business listing thing?”

“The online dating thing.”

“Ooh, much more fun.”

“I’ll drink to that.” They clinked mugs. “I think I’ve just had a bit of a breakthrough. I’m considering adding something extra to my analysis—along the lines of an equation for finding love.”

Lissy stopped sipping at her coffee and blinked. “Like, chocolates plus flowers multiplied by heaps of hot sex equals never having to say you’re sorry?”

Saskia laughed as she scrawled curlicues in the top corner of her legal pad, her mind whizzing now it had hit on something. “Not quite. Mathematics is natural. Love is natural. It only makes sense that it’s mathematically quantifiable.”

Lissy glanced pointedly at the pile of bills on Saskia’s side of the desk which, for the first time ever included a late mortgage payment.

“I wouldn’t be making work for myself, as I’m doing the research anyway,” Saskia said. “And I think it would make a great anchor for the bottom of the infographic.”

Then again, maybe Lissy was right. If Saskia wanted to wrestle back control of her mortgage payments, let alone get back to the renovations she’d been in the middle of doing when Stu absconded, she needed to focus.

Unfortunately, while Lissy was a crazy brilliant graphic artist, to her, focus was a foreign word. “It’s never been done? This love formula thing?”

“Maybe,” Saskia said, enthusiasm spiking again. “Or maybe nobody’s ever tried. Perhaps somebody just needed inspiration.”

“Like when Einstein was hit with that apple.”

“Newton.”

“Whatever. So, what hit you?”

“Nothing hit me.” Saskia made the mistake of glancing at her laptop.

Lissy’s eyes narrowed. Then, quick as a rattlesnake, she spun her chair round the desk and looked over Saskia’s shoulder before she had the chance to snap the thing closed.

“Ha!” Lissy pointed. “Talk about inspiration. Who is that?”

Saskia’s eyes skewed back to the monitor, to the bluest eyes and the hint of what would have amounted to an indecently sensuous smile if the photographer had only been kind enough to wait half a second more. “His handle is NJM.”

“Handle? He’s one of our online dating guys?” Lissy blew out a long, slow whistle. “Why did I let you be the guinea pig on this one?”

“Because you were dating Dropkick Dave and when he saw you smile at the greengrocer he snapped all your carrots in half.”

Lissy winced at the memory. “I’ll admit the guy was high strung—”

Saskia coughed out a laugh at the understatement of the year.

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