Lunar Love (48)

“He was,” Bennett says. I can’t tell if that sounded more like a confirmation or a question.

“When I learned that little detail—from your fun facts, thank you very much—I wondered what traits he embodied. Who was the man behind some of history’s most iconic paintings?” I muse. I fill out the prompts on my profile with more detailed information about myself.

“I wrote those fun facts, thank you very much. And it was passion. The man had passion. He wouldn’t stop until he reached greatness,” Bennett clarifies. “He achieved great wealth in his life…until he lost it all by not getting enough commissioned portrait work and making some bad investments.” He lifts his green juice glass in a toast. “But hey, to passion!”

I fight back the impulse to laugh but Bennett’s flirty smile has rendered me defenseless. I lift my iced tea in a mock toast.

“There. Updated,” I say, setting my phone next to my plate. “So, about the whole love thing. When are you going to finally tell me about your feelings for Harper? I haven’t had a chance to catch up with her yet.”

Bennett shifts his footing and leans back against this chair. “She’s impressive, outgoing, accomplished, and has a contagious love of food,” he starts. “But—”

“But? No buts,” I say.

“But I don’t think she’s the girl I can see myself loving. Like, falling in love with.”

“You’ve only been on one date! Don’t tell me you also believe in love at first sight?” I sigh in exasperation.

Bennett laughs. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding like he means it.

I shake my head from side to side. “I don’t accept that. If Harper wants to see you again, you need to go on a second date. Give her a chance. You both seemed to hit it off.”

Bennett fiddles with the straw in his now-empty juice glass. “She was interesting to talk to,” he says as though he’s actually considering it. “If she wants a second date, I’m open to it.”

I breathe out in relief, though a sliver of anxiety creeps in. “Great. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Don’t forget, your date is next.” Bennett’s lips firm into a straight line, his gaze quickly wandering over my face.

“The thought keeps me up at night,” I say melodramatically. “There’s no way I’m forgetting about it.”

Bennett knocks his knee into mine, and I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. The contact makes the hair on my arms spring to life.

“I do appreciate your honesty, no matter how brutal,” Bennett says. “Everyone on my team acted like they loved the idea. Maybe a couple of them were holding back their real thoughts. Thank you for not lying to me.”

My heart flips. No grudges here.

“Thanks for the waffles.” I shrug. “And it’s your business so you should do what you think is best.”

“In surveys that we sent out to users, fifty-eight percent said they’d like this,” Bennett says. “I thought this could increase user engagement.”

I shrug my shoulders. “People using your app are looking for human connection and love. Gamification plays up data too much for my taste. You’ve essentially made their dating lives a game. Love isn’t a game to everyone.”

“I’m trying to make it fun,” Bennett explains. “Especially for those who are already on the edge about the zodiac. This might keep them interested.”

“Maybe. But is that really why you want people using your app to begin with?” I push a strawberry into my mouth as I think. “Remember the scene in Big when Tom Hanks is sitting in a marketing meeting playing with a building that turns into a robot?”

Bennett’s eyes light up. “Yes. He breaks one of the arms off.”

“Right!” I say. “The guy running the meeting is shooting off all these data points and numbers about what kinds of toys kids are playing with. But it’s not what kids really want. Tom Hanks knows this because he is still a kid. He ignores what the numbers indicate and thinks up a different great idea based on gut instinct and emotion. He becomes a successful toy designer because of his feelings about toys, not because of data.”

Bennett furrows his brows and holds his hand over his mouth and nose. “You’re right. I can’t believe I’ve never thought about it like that before. I’ve always found comfort in numbers. They’re consistent, reliable.”

“Until you’re driven purely by numbers and all you make are purely financially motivated decisions,” I say in a gentle tone. My entire body aches at the recollection of his mother and why he does that. I have to actively resist the urge to hold him, hug him, and rub his back in support.

“Money keeps the lights on.” Bennett scoots back in his chair half a foot and leans his elbow up against the back of the chair. “In defense of numbers, they’re not always such a bad thing. Numbers give you feedback and a direction to move toward.”

“Maybe,” I say, unconvinced.

“Here’s an example. We found that eighty-eight percent of the users we surfaced the zodiac sign fun facts to enjoyed the app experience more than those who didn’t see them. They referred us to their friends and gave us high scores in our surveys.”

“Really?” I ask with a hint of skepticism. Bennett runs his hands down his thighs, the fabric of his shorts pulling tighter against his skin. I look away before he catches me staring.