Apparently, this isn't how it usually works.

Raven asks if I understand everything and I nod like she can hear me over the phone. She repeats herself and I remember to speak up as I scroll through the email she sent me that spells out the details.

"If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to contact me."

Raven's voice is soft and pleasant and after listening to her for just a few minutes, she has a way of making me trust her completely which is good considering how much I paid for her service.

I just sent in my application a couple of weeks ago. It took me 3 days to answer all the questions in the hectic hours I refer to as "downtime." After several personal interviews directly with Raven, my understanding was it could take several weeks-- possibly months-- before she would narrow down my matches and then count on a "team" of the people I trust most with the decision to finish the interview process and choose a husband for me.

Hence the "arranged" part of Raven Swann's arranged marriage service. It's a drastic move in today's times, but it beats the hell out of years of guess work and failed relationships when you're ready for the real thing.

Once that's accomplished, it's pretty much a done deal. A couple of preliminary dates just to make sure and then rings, vows, rice, and happily ever after.

Worth. Every. Penny.

That's not what's happening with my application though and from what Raven says, that's pretty rare.

I've talked to her several times since she broke the news to me, and no matter how excited and reassuring she sounds when I talk to her I can't help but detect a hint of something in her voice, a hesitancy about this Devon guy she's paired me with. Like she's not 100% it's going to work out between us.

I go through the email and run through our most recent conversation at the same time.

Maybe I'm reading into things? She definitely seems to think Devon and I are right for each other, and it's not like she's my hairstylist trying set me up on a blind date-- this is Raven Swann, if she says Devon is right for me, she means he's Mr. Right For Me.

I'm probably just nervous because it's happening so fast. And because the match is being made directly by Raven. No narrowing it down to a handful of possibilities and then having my most trusted friends in the world decide for me.

Nope. Raven says she went over my application and knew immediately that this Devon guy would be "a smart choice" for me. Those are the words she used, that's what she said on the phone and those are the words that I keep staring at in the email, "a smart choice."

Deep down I know the reason I'm not excited is those words. "A smart choice." I don't want a smart choice. That sounds like the sort of thing women were supposed to look for in a man a hundred years ago, "I know he's boring as fuck, dear, but think of his family connections, he's a smart choice."

Gah!

OK. So not so deep down. The reason I'm not excited is right up on the surface and I just want to cry.

I don't want a smart choice. I want love. The real deal. Instant, over the top, when-you-know-you-know love. I want a man who looks at me like I'm made out of magic. A guy who makes me feel like a princess.

I guess I figured, what with her reputation, that Raven's version of arranged marriage would let me skip the trouble of having to find Prince Charming on my own. I thought all those questions were like a sort of personality test that would tell her who I was and what I wanted in a husband.

Guess I was wrong. When all is said and done, it looks like Raven Swann isn't any better than some old school matchmaker-- more interested in finding me a man that fits into some antiquated notions of being a provider rather than a partner.

It's like filling out all those questions was a waste of time. Not to mention the money. Although-- at least there's a guarantee on that.

Remembering the money back guarantee at least gives me some relief. I read the email again and carefully go over the profile that Raven attached to it.

Devon James. 29 years old. 6 foot, 2 inches. No weight listed. Ivy league college, no degree listed. No job listed. Special interests listed as "other."

What the fuck does "other" mean? The application was full of essay questions and fill in the blanks, did he really just type out "other?"

Not that it looks like he bothered filling in much of anything else either. Seriously, I know that Raven said we wouldn't get much info on each other prior to our first meeting because she prefers to keep her clients from going in with preconceived notions of who they are meeting, but this is ridiculous.

I don't even get to meet this guy's team first? Like, this is it. The whole enchilada. Devon and Stephy forever. Because Raven Swann said we're a "smart choice."

I close the PDF of Devon's unprofile and reach for my phone. If my besties aren't going to be picking out a husband for me, they can at least come over here and convince me to go through with meeting the one Raven picked out. And they can bring wine. Lots of wine.