Page 109 of No Match Found
She listened, punctuating my presentation with a few perceptive questions that made me suspect she’d seen the article in The Sentinel. That didn’t bode particularly well.
“I’ll be honest, Miss West,” she said. “I’ve been following Matchify with interest for the past year or so, but the recent press has been concerning. I’m sure you can understand why it would give us pause as we contemplate investing in the company’s future.”
“Of course,” I said, forcing myself to hold her gaze rather than averting mine. She’d read Chase’s words about me. She’d probably seen the photo of Grant and me in the parking garage.
A wave of want washed over me. I missed Grant. Fiercely.
“I can imagine the press has been uncomfortable for you,” she said. “But your personal life isn’t my concern, Miss West. My concern is what it says about the product and how it affects it. You represent a key demographic for your app. How will you prevent your users and yourpotentialusers from assuming that since the app didn’t work for you, it might not work for them, either?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? My own situation was inextricably tied up with the app. If I didn’t let myself be guided by my Matchify results, how could I expect others to be?
“Our app works for the majority of users,” I said. “Of course, on any Bell curve, there are outliers. That’s just a statistical reality. We can’t promise something like love with 100% accuracy for 100%of people, but our app can reliably helpmostpeople find their best shot at it.”
She gave a little acknowledging grimace.
She wasn’t convinced.
I couldn’t blame her. She wanted an answer for those outliers.
So did I. More than anything. I was one of them.
I wanted to be able to give an answer for why Matchify had spit Grant and me out with a 12% compatibility score when I’d never felt such a strong connection with anyone in my life.
I thought of last night, when Grant had told me he loved me. Twice.
I thought of his frustration when I’d refused to believe him. My message hadn’t only beenI believe Chase over you; it had beenI know your feelings better than you.
That wasn’t just hurtful. It was arrogant.
He’d told me he didn’t care if I was an anomaly.
Did I believe anomalies didn’t deserve love?
Maybe that was our problem.
Maybe we shouldn’t be discounting those tails of outliers on the Bell curve. The 12% matches. They didn’t mean the app didn’t work; they just meant that statistics and our algorithm worked a high percentage of the time but that we also needed to allow for a bit of chance.
Most people needed to be Matchified; but some, like me, needed to be Chancified.
My heart skipped.
Chancify.
Was that the answer?
“What if we could provide for those outliers?” I asked, my heart thumping against my ribs.
Miss Chen’s gaze was fixed on me, but she waited for me to go on.
“What if we could build a feature for people who weren’t completely confident inthe algorithm?”
Her gaze sharpened with cautious intrigue. “That’s the most interesting thing you’ve said so far, Miss West. Tell me more.”
My body trembled like I’d taken three shots of espresso. “What if we introduce a bit of randomness into the process? Give users the opportunity to roll the dice—metaphorically?”
“Wouldn’t that undermine your app?”
“Or strengthen it. Matchify’s statistical models cover the majority of situations. Chancify could cover the rest.” Grant had said it, hadn’t he? Compatibility didn’t have to mean two things that were very similar; it could mean two things that complemented each other. Opposites, even, in some cases.
