Faking It

“AI as in artificial intelligence?”

“Yes. We’ve spent a lot of time and research in how to best use AI to our subscribers’ advantage. Our initial profile set-up is a bit longer than other sites but it’s because we want to make sure we have as much information on your personality and traits and likes and dislikes as we can. We then use all of that information , combine it with the same algorithm and personality tests other matchmaking platforms use, but then SoulM8 takes it one step further. We take all of these results and allow the AI to take it from there. The program sifts through every facet and finds what we hope is the perfect match.”

“And how many matches have you had so far with your beta groups?” Fran asks.

“Statistics can always be manipulated so I’m not going to lie and say we’ve had one hundred percent success. Of course there have been people who have met up and their online persona didn’t match who they were face to face—or so the feedback has been—but at this time we’re showing the highest satisfaction rating of any of the comparable dating sites out there.”

“And you haven’t even officially launched yet! Amazing.” Fran turns to the camera. “Stick with us because after the commercial break, we’re going to get a sneak peak at these two and why everyone is buzzing about them—and we’re going to put that buzz to the test.”

The production crew tells us when we’re clear, the make-up team rushes onstage to powder our noses, and I just sit there as Zane and the host talk about some mutual acquaintance.

The world moves on while I’m sitting here replaying in my head everything that Zane just said.

“Live in five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

“We’re back here continuing our conversation with Zane Phillips and Harlow Nicks. So Harlow and Zane, you’ve been promoting the site together. Which means you’ve been stuck together for two months on a tour bus.”

“Yes,” we say in unison.

“Let’s show the audience what that’s been like for you,” Fran says and points to the monitor where footage of Zane and I spark to life. Tiny snippets of the excursions Robert sent us on fill the screen. Us arguing on the trust course. Then high-fiving. Then kissing each other. Flinging flour at each other while baking, Zane carrying me against his side so we could finish the three legged race. The two of us laughing so hard we can’t speak. A quiet moment with my head on his shoulder, eyes closed, and him looking over at me.

“Looks like it’s been quite the adventure.”

“You can say that.” I smile.

“We’ve definitely learned a lot about each other,” Zane says, placing his hand possessively on my thigh.

“That’s good to know because we have a thing that we do here on Good Morning USA. It’s a little game we play with newlyweds”—she holds her hands out in front of her—“and before you panic and think we’re jumping the gun, we adjusted it for you. It’s all in fun.”

Both Zane and I chuckle nervously, unsure what’s going on.

“We had them fill out a questionnaire in the green room earlier this morning. It was a list of thirty questions. Typically when we do this with a couple, we end up getting some really funny results. Questions they got wrong they should know. Answers that are so off base it makes you scratch your head and wonder how they don’t know that about the other . . . but look at Zane and Harlow’s. Can we put them up on the screen?” she asks as I think of the thirty questions we answered earlier, not knowing what they were for.

The monitor across from us shows our tests side by side. Mine is on the right with my flowy cursive and Zane’s is on the left with his block style writing. The penmanship might be different, but as I scan across every question, our answers are the exact same.

On every single one of them. From how we like our coffee to who takes the longest showers to each other’s pet peeves, and on and on . . .

“I’m not sure if the audience at home can see this or not,” Fran says, “but there isn’t a single answer either one of them got wrong.”

“Wow,” Zane says as he sits up in his seat to look at the screen. I can’t take my eyes off of them.

“We’ve been doing this for over ten years and this has never happened—our couple getting one hundred percent of the answers right.” Fran says and throws up her hands. “I guess SoulM8 is the real deal.”

“We’re going to try to be,” Zane says with a soft smile.

“And it launches tonight, correct?”

“Yes,” I say.

“We have the site info on the bottom of the screen for you if you’d like to check it out, and uh, Zane,” she says with a little lift of her eyebrows and a knowing shrug, “you’ve already taken the newlywed test and passed with flying colors . . . so uh . . .”

Zane’s hand tenses on my leg just as one of the production crew calls out, “And camera’s off.” I glance beside me to see the panicked look on Zane’s face before he recovers, but the tight smile remains.

And I know.