The Love Lottery

“I’m sure the computer they used has me paired up with some nice lady,” Harlan said. One date, nothing more. It surely wouldn’t lead anywhere. He’d sit here, share the agreed-upon drink with his match, then find a way to beg off from anything more. The chances of Miss Right dropping into his life right now were slimmer than none. Maybe he’d get a funny story or two out of the whole experience, something he could share on the show tomorrow.

A whisper sounded in the back of his head, one that said he’d been alone a long time and he was overdue for someone to shake up his life. Harlan shrugged off the thought.

Lulu laughed again. “They didn’t use no computer to make these matches, Mr. Jones, and as for someone nice—”

“We have one last match to announce,” Sophie said, holding up a large manila envelope. Lulu stopped talking and turned to face the stage. Harlan sipped at his tea, then fished a notepad out of his pocket and began going over his list of potential guests. He’d come here so he could concentrate—he loved his dogs, but there were times when their barking and squirrel-chasing plumb drove him nuts—and now there was this thing going on. It looked about over, though, and either way, he’d probably missed whoever had been his match. No matter. He’d only signed up because Mildred had been so insistent. If there was one thing Harlan didn’t have time for, it was dating.