She switches to Rosanna's intake, scrolling through responses that are warmer, more open, but also more guarded than they first appear. Rosanna is good at seeming accessible while keeping her true fears hidden. But then Tessa reaches the answer to question twelve.
I know that sounds silly, but I try to approach my life sunny side up.
Tessa leans forward, highlighting both phrases on her monitors. The exact same words. Not just similar sentiments—the exact same unusual two-word phrase used in completely different contexts by two people who supposedly have never met.
She pulls up her notes document and types:Coincidence? Or shared cultural reference I'm not aware of?
She makes a mental note to ask around the office if "sunny side up" is some kind of motivational phrase that's popular right now. Maybe it's from a book or podcast or TikTok trend that she's too busy to have caught.
But even as she types it, her instincts say this is something else. Something more personal.
Tessa opens a new window and starts the preliminary compatibility assessment, looking for any obvious connections between Seamus O'Malley and Rosanna Lopez.
It's standard procedure. ERS needs to ensure they’re not walking clients into undisclosed conflicts—past relationships, hidden disputes, or social overlaps that could explode publicly.
Even with thorough screening, not every potential complication disqualifies a match. Some are simply flagged and evaluated—particularly when the compatibility score is unusually high.
These two have no mutual friends on social media. No shared professional circles. No overlap in their visible networks. Rosanna's Instagram is public and full of illustration work-in-progress shots; Seamus doesn't appear to have personal social media at all. Different neighborhoods, different industries, different everything.
On paper, they have no connection.
They exist in completely different worlds, their paths never crossing in any obvious way.
Which makes the identical phrasing even more intriguing. Two people from utterly different backgrounds, using the exact same unusual phrase to describe their core values.
Tessa makes another note:Linguistic coincidence. May indicate compatible worldviews despite different backgrounds.
She pulls up the deeper compatibility metrics. Looking at personality assessments, communication styles, attachment patterns, and values alignment. And here, despite the surface-level differences, things start to click into place.
They're both lonely. Both afraid of being used. Both protecting themselves.
Tessa saves her preliminary notes and walks down the hall to the data science department, where George is undoubtedly already here.
George treats the office like his natural habitat. He is more comfortable here than anywhere else, surrounded by monitorsand algorithms and the mathematical certainty of compatibility metrics.
She finds him exactly where she expected: hunched over his standing desk, three monitors displaying data visualizations that look like abstract art to anyone who isn't fluent in statistical analysis.
George Maddox in his natural habitat.
He doesn't look up when she enters, just raises one hand in acknowledgment while finishing whatever calculation he's absorbed in.
"George," Tessa says, dropping into the chair beside his desk. "I need your brain for a pattern recognition question."
"My brain is currently occupied with the Riley-Thompson match," George replies, still not looking at her. "Their compatibility score is lower than I'd like, but Evelyn insists there's something the algorithm isn't capturing. I'm trying to figure out what variables I'm missing."
"This will just take a minute," Tessa promises. "I have two intake forms that use identical phrasing in completely different contexts. 'Sunny side up'—one client uses it to describe what they're looking for in a partner, the other uses it to describe their own life philosophy. No apparent connection between the clients. What does that tell you?"
That gets his attention.
George finally looks away from his monitors, his dark eyes focusing on her with the intensity he usually reserves for data problems.
Something warm flickers in her chest—unexpected and inconvenient. She ignores it, like always.
"Identical phrasing in disconnected contexts? Could be a linguistic coincidence. Could be a popular cultural reference."
He pauses, thinking. "People who process the world similarly landing on similar metaphors independently."
"So it could mean they think alike," Tessa summarizes. "Even though they come from completely different backgrounds."
