Page 86 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

Before I can process that particular disaster, my phone buzzes. Emily Hanning:Feature going live tomorrow morning. Perfect Valentine's Day timing! Sources say SecureMatch's numbers are already responding to the advance copy...

"Don't," Olivia warns as I reach for the wine bottle on her counter. "It's not even noon."

"It's evening somewhere."

"Yeah, in places that don't have engagement parties tomorrow." She hands me a spoon instead. "Here. Take your feelings out on the cookie dough."

I do, with probably more vigor than necessary. Through the kitchen doorway, I can see Mia and Bianca performing what appears to be an interpretive dance about artificial intelligence and emotional processing.

"The robot's heart goes beep-beep-blip!" Mia sings, spinning in circles. "But love makes systems flip-flip-flip!"

"Your children are eerily accurate songwriters," I mutter.

"They get it from their father." Olivia starts scooping dough onto baking sheets. "Though personally, I'm more interested in why you're still planning to go to this party."

"Because it's Alex and Mac's engagement? Because they're our friends? Because?—"

"Because you're not ready to admit it's over?"

I concentrate very hard on not breaking the mixing bowl. "It was never really anything to begin with. Just a business arrangement that got... complicated."

"Complicated like the time you locked me and Derek in that supply closet?"

"That was different. You two were meant to be together. This is just..."

"Just what?"

I think about decorated tables and snowy memories, about Captain Kirk and fire-warmed cabins and oversized couches that have seen more than a fair share of naked skin.

"A statistical anomaly," I say finally, and immediately hate how much I sound like him.

Olivia studies me for a moment, then calls out: "Girls! Come help Aunt Roz with the cookies!"

"But Mom!" Bianca protests. "We're just getting to the part where the robot realizes feelings can't be measured in binary!"

"The cookies need precise measurements," Olivia says with exaggerated seriousness. "Very statistical. Very... algorithmic."

Both girls appear so fast they practically teleport.

"Can we calculate optimal chocolate chip distribution?" Mia asks, already reaching for measuring cups.

"Using real math?" Bianca adds. "Like Mr. Gray does?"

The mention of his name makes my throat close, but their enthusiasm is infectious. Soon we're all covered in flour, debating the merits of various mixing techniques while Bianca creates what she calls a "Cookie Creation Optimization “Rules on her tablet.

"The statistical probability of perfect cookie consistency increases by 37% when mixed counterclockwise," she announces with familiar precision.

"You sound just like—" I stop myself, but not before Olivia catches my expression.

"Like someone else we know?" she asks softly.

Before I can answer, my phone buzzes again.

Dani:My professional friendship bracelet maker is predicting that your aura with Grayson is "concerningly tangled." PS: He's teaching William how to weave relationship prediction knots into his challah.

"Damage control," I mutter, showing Olivia the messages. “So freaking professional."

"You know what's not so freaking professional?" She hands me more cookie dough. "Running away from feelings because you're scared."

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