Dream Date with the Millionaire. Melissa McClone

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      “Oh, it was thorough all right.” Her mouth quirked. “That stupid thing took forever to fill out, with all its nitpicky and redundant questions.”

      He’d heard the criticism before, but the questionnaire was far from stupid. “The time you spend pays out in the end.”

      “Let’s be real.” She leaned toward him. “How do you know someone else is going to fill it out as carefully as you did? They might choose an answer they think someone might want to hear.”

      “That’s built into the algorithm and the reason for so many questions, even redundant ones. To get to the bottom of what a person needs in a relationship and a mate. Not what they think they need.”

      “You seem to know a lot about it.”

      “I work with computers,” he admitted, waiting for questions to follow. So many people worked with computers in the Bay Area, yet some women wanted to know more—where do you work, what’s your title, do you get stock options?—in order to gauge future earning potential.

      “Poor you.” She poked her fork into her waffle and swallowed a bite.

      Was Sanfrandani really disinterested in him or playing hard to get? Maybe she was just hungry. That waffle looked good.

      “I like computers,” he said. “And with anything Internet based, there’s an element of trust involved.”