Now to the bachelors: Bachelor No. 1 impulsively pulled out of the date at the last minute. Bachelor No. 2 wasn’t available. Bachelor No. 3 seemed perfect. ... However, Michael, our bachelor No. 4, is the one who was chosen.

AD

AD

I say “chosen” because I did not choose 24-year-old Michael Lovito for Sam; kismet did. The Washington Post staff accidentally called the wrong bachelor, which could not have pleased me more. If there’s one thing a rom-com writer loves more than shenanigans, it’s kismet.

Our heroine arrived at Cafe Soleil downtown first and was sipping a glass of wine when Michael arrived 10 minutes later. He extended his hand for a shake while Sam opened her arms for a hug. The pair hugged and thus ended the only awkwardness of the evening.

Initially, Michael was worried that he’d be paired with someone aloof. But he was pleasantly surprised to discover Sam was easy to talk to. Likewise, Sam enjoyed conversing with Michael, and both were delighted to learn the other made attending live music a priority whenever possible. They also got a kick out of what was coming out of Cafe Soleil’s sound system. “The music at the restaurant was rearranged versions of hard rock, which made us both laugh,” he said.

AD

AD

As kismet would have it, Michael also works in marketing. And he is similarly self-deprecating and hilarious, likening his dating history to a sketch show (e.g., “Whose Line Is It Anyway?”) where “each sketch is an imagined date with an OkCupid connection that ends up going terribly wrong.”

The pair decided to split an appetizer, olive tapenade over toast, before having a main course of fish. Sam ordered sea bass since she’d never had it before, reasoning that it was a good night to be adventurous. Michael ordered the salmon and garlic sauteed spinach. (After I questioned his logic in choosing a dish with so much garlic, he admitted he’d brought mints along, just in case.)

Unfortunately for my happily-ever-after winning streak, Michael didn’t need the mints. After the do-we-or-don’t-we-hug moment at the start of the date, all tension — romantic or otherwise — went out the window, and something very nonfiction happened: nothing. Nothing happened.

AD

AD

The main course was savored, a cheesecake was split, and after the bill was paid, our hero asked our heroine for her number. Sam said later, “I made notes on the train home, but I found I didn’t have much to say.” She felt the conversation was superficial. When I told Michael this, he said, “I could have asked more interesting questions.”

In my version of this story — the fictional version — Sam and Michael will run into each other in a few weeks. She’s probably had a bad day, someone upset her, and it’s most likely raining (I live in Seattle, so I think everything is better with rain). Michael will be a friendly face in a time of crisis. When he sees Sam, he insists on taking her out for coffee and surprises her with his confident honesty, emotional bravery and interesting questions. Sam, in turn, impresses Michael with her clever insight.

Tension is reintroduced during a heated debate over which is better: The White Stripes’ cover of “Jolene” or the Lumineers’ cover of “Walls.” It’ll still be raining when they leave the coffee shop. But it’ll stop the moment he kisses her.

AD

AD

Of course, that’s fiction for you. Unlike real life, something always happens.

Rate the date

Sam: 3.5 [out of 5].

Michael: 4.5.

Update

They exchanged a few texts the next day, but that was it.

Penny Reid is a best-selling author of romance novels. Her book “Laws of Physics: Motion” is scheduled to be released Feb. 11.