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engine finally grabbed on the fourth attempt, and the car sputtered to life. Jamie offered up a silent prayer to whatever supernatural creature watched over single mothers who were nearly late to pick up their daughters.
    And for once, the traffic gods smiled upon her. She made it to Olivia’s school in record time, pulling into a parking space with almost ten minutes to spare. She took out her phone, intent on making sure Robert wasn’t reporting any emergencies at Rockets Field.
    Nothing from her assistant.
    But there was a message from the TrueLove app. RoadWarrior had replied.
    Jamie’s stomach tightened. Well, that was a good thing, wasn’t it? She wanted someone to reply to her email. Just one someone, so she could tell Ashley she’d tried. Then she could write off the entire stupid website and never go back there again.
    She clicked on the message. And she felt that little swoop in her belly as she read the answers to RoadWarrior’s Five Live Questions, tripping from the utterly mundane to the undeniably intriguing.
    Favorite pet: Stuffed animal (see profile: I’m on the road a lot)
    Why even bother reading the rest of his responses? The guy’s profile made it clear he traveled a lot, a fact he underscored with his very first answer. That wasn’t a great basis for building a relationship.
    But truth be told, Jamie was used to having a lot of space, more than her share of breathing room. It might be nice to date a guy who didn’t hover, who didn’t have to be catered to day in and day out. Jamie knew herself well enough to admit she chafed at feeling confined. RoadWarrior’s travel schedule was actually a selling point.
    Favorite wine. Glenlivet. Okay, he was willing to color outside the lines. Another point for RoadWarrior.
    Favorite movie. What a stupid question. Favorite movie depended on what mood she was in—if she wanted something classic, or something funny, or something romantic, or… He obviously thought the question was dumb, too.
    Body part. Sexual position. How the hell was she going to answer those questions?
    She knew herself. If she didn’t fire off responses now, she’d find a million reasons not to. She’d blow off RoadWarrior, and everyone else on TrueLove. And even though Jamie had never asked for the dating service, now that she had someone—an actual flesh-and-blood man—interested enough to send her a response, she felt like she had to follow suit. Damn Ashley and her conniving interference!
    Jamie glanced at the school door. The crossing guards were just coming out to take their places. She probably had three minutes before Olivia came bouncing out to the car. Three minutes to come up with breezy, seductive answers. Or, you know. To tell the truth. She started typing.
    Favorite pet: Hamster. At least, that’s my daughter’s current favorite.
    Favorite wine: Malbec.
    Favorite movie: Anything with George Clooney. But don’t let that intimidate you.
    Favorite body part: Yes. I have one.
    Favorite sexual position: Oh, yes. I definitely have one. Yes.
    Even as her cheeks flushed, she read back over her less racy answers. She had to be up front with RoadWarrior about Olivia. She wasn’t ashamed of her daughter. She skimmed over her other replies and pressed Send, just as the front doors of the school exploded. The air was filled with the shrieks of two hundred children scrambling for their buses, running to their carpools. Jamie opened her door and stood beside the car, waving until Olivia saw her.
    Of course, it was easy to spot her daughter in the crowd. That flame-red hair could be seen for miles. Olivia’s bright pink backpack clashed terribly, as did the orange dress she’d insisted on wearing that morning. But Jamie couldn’t help but smile as her daughter came running over to the car. Braids askew, dirt ground into the knees of her tights, a smudge of tempera paint high on her cheekbone, Olivia flung herself at her mother.
    “Mommy! Where’s Lauren?”
    “She had