“Gideon, sometimes you are such an idiot. I know it’s an RFA form. I know it’s a standard form, and that our office is inundated with them on a daily basis. But for goodness sake, would you please just look at the thing before you get all huffy with me?”
Gideon sighed and rubbed his hands briskly over his face. He’d been doing nothing but studying for the past hour and a half, cramming all of the information he could into his brain at one time. His Cupid Exams were coming up in just over a month, and he still had seventeen more books to study after this one. Seventeen. The thought alone had him sweating.
“Fine. Fine, fine, fine, I’ll read it. If it will make you happy and shut you up, I’ll read this Request For Assistance form just like I read the other five million we’ve done already this year.”
He snatched up the papers from on top of his study book, pushed his chair back into the reclining position, and propped his long legs onto the top of his desk.
Then he sat up so hard and so fast that he unconsciously unfurled his wings, accidentally knocking McCabe upside the head after all.
Score one for the winger.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, running his palm over the papers to smooth them out.
“No you’re not,” McCabe answered, “but I won’t hold it against you. Now, aren’t you glad that I finally talked enough sense into you so that you’d look at it?”
Gideon didn’t answer, just continued to stare at the two words that were about to change his life.
McCabe rambled on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Gideon was undergoing a major life transformation.
“You know you have to take it to the big guy. You have to convince him to let you have this one. You have to, Gid. Gid, are you listening to me?”
“What?” He traced the words with the tip of his index finger, feeling the power that they held and the promise of a future that was now within his reach.
“Yes, McCabe, I heard you.” Gideon turned and looked fully at his friend, finally gracing him with the smile that everyone at Cupid Headquarters said was a gift from God. “I heard you, and for once I totally agree with you. This is my ticket to the big leagues, and I can’t screw it up. So go away,” he said, turning back to his desk, “so I can figure out the best way to do this.”
“No problem,” McCabe responded as he headed back to his own desk and the towering pile of RFA forms sitting there. “And you’re welcome, winger.”
Gideon didn’t even respond to the barb, because he was too busy staring once again at the words destined to finally make him a Cupid. There they were, in all their glory…his ride to fame, fortune, and acceptance.
So beautiful.
So poetic.
So absolutely perfect.
Two words typed in Times New Roman twelve-point font on cheap-grade copy paper.
Valentine Lewis.
January 7, 2004
Cupid Headquarters
Circle of the Three
“I do not believe he is ready.” Eros’s words were not loudly spoken, and yet Gideon could hear them from where he was standing outside of the inner sanctum, ear pressed firmly against the wooden door.
He frowned and his hands unconsciously tightened into fists. Eros had to give him this assignment. Had to. It was imperative that he be the Cupid assigned to Valentine’s case. Before he could fully prepare himself for a response, he heard another voice.
“He is ready, Your Excellence. He is a good man, Gideon, and he has been studying hard for just such a moment.”
Gideon had to smile at his father’s voice. He had wondered if Jonathan would defend him, if he had gained enough favor in his father’s eyes to bring his request before Eros.
“That may be true, Jonathan, and I have no doubts as to your son’s dedication. But you must realize how important this job is, how there can be no missteps in handling it.”
Gideon heard Eros’s sigh, heard the squeaks and groans that meant the man who ruled the world of love was moving restlessly atop his throne at the head of the table.
Another voice, this time that of Dimitria. She was the only female Cupid, would probably always be the only female allowed into this special world. Gideon knew that it wasn’t from prejudice that women were excluded from the job—it was simply the way things worked. The system had been set up this way hundreds of thousands of years ago, and no one would dare to change it now.
“Eros,” she said, and a shiver ran down Gideon’s spine at her soft, dulcet tones. “There comes a time in every Cupid’s life when they reach this moment. A decision has to be made that they are ready, that they know enough, that they are mature enough, to handle important cases. We all realize the highly sensitive nature of the Lewis request. There will be no room for error in judgment on our part, regardless of who is assigned to find her a mate.”
Dimitria paused, and with it Gideon held his breath.
“But Gideon has asked for it, and I believe we should grant it to him.”
His ear was beginning to throb, pushed painfully into the wood of the door. It was now quiet within the Circle of the Three, and he spent precious moments wondering whether the silence was good or bad.
Eros’s voice suddenly reverberated through his body, and he had to pull his ear away from the door to protect his hearing.
“All right then, I will defer to my two consorts in their trust and devotion to Gideon. I will grant him his wish, but I will also hold all three of you accountable if anything goes wrong. You might as well bid him enter, as he’s waiting impatiently outside the door, listening with bated breath to our discussion.”
The wooden door swung inward, and Gideon’s face blushed red with embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping.
“As I assume that you have heard our discussion, Gideon, then you know that I shall grant you your request for the Lewis assignment.”
“Yes, Your Excellence.”
“That said, I will say only one thing more on the matter. Should you succeed in this quest, you will have no trouble with the rest of your Cupid Exams, or with earning your degree. However, and I can’t stress this enough, if there are any complications in this matter, any screwups that require my intervention, you’ll be sitting down in Acquisitions as long as I remain the head of the Circle of the Three.”
Eros glanced down from his throne, his earnest blue eyes burning into Gideon’s brown ones.
“Do I make myself clear?”
Gideon took a deep breath and released it on a rush of air. “Perfectly,” he answered, and bowed in deference before he turned to leave.
He paused at the door to glance back at the members of the Council. “I won’t mess this up.”
In the days that followed, Gideon often thought about how he had felt so confident that day. And how it had all so quickly fallen apart.
Two
January 11, 2004
Fairview Mall Shopping Plaza
“So, has the man of your dreams shown up on your doorstep yet?” There was no malice or ill will in Tasha’s voice, but Val heard the sarcasm shining through loud and clear.
“No, not yet. And besides, I’m not sure that’s how it works.” Val stopped outside the window display at Nordstrom’s, eyeing a soft rose cashmere sweater with envy. Then she glanced down at the price tag, and decided she didn’t love it that much after all.
Tasha walked up beside her and made a low sound of approval. “Gorgeous, but not that gorgeous.”
“Exactly.”
They kept walking, no particular destination in mind. About once a month, they made a trip to the mall, to take in the sights and sounds, the shops and sales, and each other’s company.
Tasha didn’t bring up the Cupid angle again until they were seated in the courtyard, artery-blocking pizza before them on flimsy paper plates.
“You do know that if this works for you, I’ll be next in line with a plea.”
Val snorted in disbelief. “Since when have you ever needed help in the love life department?”
She took another bite and glanced over at her sister. “Having a good love life doesn’t just mean having sex. Granted, I have a lot of sex, too, but I still haven’t found the love of my life.”
“Don’t say that, it makes you sound easy,” Val said, laughing.
“Nah, just makes me sound human.”
“An easy human.”
Tasha loved that they could joke like this, could banter back and forth with the ease of sisterhood and friendship. She had to admit, she thought Val was crazy for trying this Cupid idea. At the same time, though, she had to admit that it took guts. Val knew, after a long dry spell of not knowing, what she wanted. And now she was trying out a system on how to get it. Granted, it was probably the most ridiculous system she’d ever heard of, but who knew, it just might work.
“So.” Tasha pushed aside her empty plate and reached for her diet cola. “How do you think this works? Will the person Cupid picks just knock at your door? Or do you think you’ll just happen to meet someone, you know, either at work or when you’re out at the grocery store one day? And violà! it will be the man you’ve been waiting for.”
Val frowned as she looked down at the table. “I don’t know, Tasha, and that’s got me a little freaked. I mean, there are two ways that this could go.”
“What do you mean?”
“Okay, say that I do meet someone, a guy that I’m really attracted to and who seems to be into me, sometime in the next few weeks. How will I know if this Cupid thing worked, or if it just so happens that it was my time to meet a man?”
“Well, that’s a good question. But it seems to me,” she answered, taking her sister’s hand across the table, “that whether it’s fate or Cupid, you’d be happy to have found your one true love. And besides, wouldn’t thinking that Cupid set you up with him be a kind of, oh, I don’t know, fairytale type of idea that you could pull out and look over every once in a while? I mean, come on, just think of the stories you could tell your grandchildren.”
Val laughed at her sister’s jesting. She was right, the way that she usually was. Tasha might be the younger sister, but in the ways of men and how they worked, she was light-years ahead of her. What did it matter really? If she reached the goal that she’d set for herself, if she found a man who would love her and ultimately be the one that she married, what difference did it make whether it came about due to her own hard work or the hand of Cupid?
“Thanks, sis.”
“You’re very welcome. Now come on,” Tasha said, grabbing her empty lunch dishes to toss them in the trash. “I hear Victoria’s Secret calling my name. And if Cupid’s due to come calling, she’s probably calling your name too.”
January 12, 2004
Navy Pier, Chicago
It was amazing to Gideon the masses of people that chose to be outside in this type of weather. It was only twenty-seven degrees, with a brisk wind and only intermittent sunlight peeking through the ominous gray cloud cover. Yet the pier was jam-packed with people: men with long winter coats and briefcases sitting on benches, women with their faces almost completely covered by scarves, going in and out of the shops, and children running and laughing, arguing and yelling, doing all of the things that children do on a blustery winter day.
He’d been here before, of course. Being a Cupid didn’t mean he had no life. He actually made his earthly home in Chicago, and Navy Pier never failed to delight him. Its Ferris wheel and carousel, its restaurants, shops, and museums. The promenade was a great place to people-watch, which Gideon loved to do. It was the first time, though, that he’d sought his quarry here.
It was amazing, and made his job a lot easier, that the man he sought lived in Chicago as well. There were seven hubs for Cupids, seven places where they could enter and leave their otherworldly jobs and priorities, in just the United States and Canada alone. New York City, Washington, D.C., Chicago, Las Vegas, Hollywood, Halifax, and Vancouver. Gideon was lucky enough to live in a city where one of the most active Cupid groups was located, but this was the first time that both the person requesting assistance and the person on the receiving end of his help both lived where he did.
Gideon knew who he was looking for. Tyler Morris, an ad exec for one of the most prominent real estate agents in town. The man was good at his job, kept an eye on his finances, looked good in a suit, and had a great sense of humor. Gideon figured that if anyone fit the bill, Tyler was the man.
Man, but the wind was brisk. He pulled up the collar of his coat a little higher and breathed some warmth into his gloved hands. Contrary to popular belief, a Cupid didn’t have to wear a toga or anything resembling a large male diaper. Gideon wore normal clothes, especially when he was wandering around on Earth. Thinking over some of the lore that humans had about Cupid had him chuckling.
Cupids existed in a state of being that was hard to comprehend. His father, Jonathan, was a Cupid, an immortal being who was over seven hundred years old. His mother, though, was human, and although she’d been turned immortal by Eros, she still exhibited most of her human ways. She fussed over Gideon like a typical mother, she liked to cook and bake and clean, and she had a healthy dose of ego that made her take a certain kind of pride in her appearance.
Cupids also weren’t invisible. Well, not exactly. When they were in working mode, as he was now, he used his cloak of invisibility, something that he had been trained to do in school. It was all a matter of using a certain portion of his mind that most humans weren’t aware of and blocking his presence to mortal men. In this state, though, there were still three groups of beings who could see him. Other Cupids, mortal children under the age of two, and for some innately strange reason, cats.
As he took a seat on one of the benches ringing the Ferris wheel, he had to laugh. He really didn’t understand the cat thing. Little children, yes, with their innocence and pleasure in life and everything that surrounded them, he could understand. But no one, not even Eros, had ever explained to him why cats could see them when they were invisible to everyone else.
Cupids, obviously, were also not one person. Too much work for one being to make all the matches that were requested of them. Eros was their leader, their lawmaker, their guide and mentor. The god of love had powers that no other Cupid could ever hope to attain, and it suited them just fine. But there were over two thousand Cupids in just the United States, not to mention those operating out of the two hubs in Canada and the other thirty-seven locations throughout the rest of the world.
Gideon let his mind wander as he watched the people pass. He smiled charmingly at a little blond-headed infant who passed by in a stroller, and she gave him back a toothless grin. The wind was still coming off of the Lake, but the sun was out and the resulting shine was kicking up the temperature a few notches.
He glanced around, and finally saw Tyler sitting not fifty feet away from him on another bench.
“Time to get to work.”
The actual making of a match wasn’t totally unlike what humans thought it was. He did own an arrow, and he would need to use it for the task at hand. The two parties involved didn’t have to be in the same spot at the same time; Gideon only had to concentrate on the person not in attendance while performing his duty. He’d gone over Val’s dossier once again earlier this morning, and had her pretty cerulean blue eyes and long black hair pictured in his head. Now all that was left was saying the words that would make her request come true, aiming his arrow, and hitting his mark.
Tyler was engrossed in his laptop, undoubtedly scheming up another ad campaign that would have his business selling more houses. The people passing in front of him didn’t seem to deter him, but they gave Gideon pause.
He hated shooting through people.
Grant
ed, it did harm neither to the person it passed through nor to his aim, but it always gave him a weird feeling inside. The people he hit couldn’t see him, true enough, but he could sure see them, and watching an arrow pass smoothly through their heads, midsection, or legs had a bad effect on his stomach.
Gideon took the bow stationed at his hip and pulled an arrow from the quiver at his back. He chose to go old school when it came to his tool, not yet having given in to the rage of getting a hip quiver. It might have provided easier access, but the feel of it, the smooth motions that it took to grab an arrow by its neck and double-check that the cock-feather was in the correct position—it gave him a sense of purpose, of accomplishment.
He was already wearing the brace on his left arm, and he removed his leather gloves to steady his grip. Gideon knew that he could have left the gloves on and still hit his mark, but he wanted to feel the sting of the wind, the cold of the air, as he watched the results of his teachings ring true.
Archery was a major part of Cupid training. Actually, as a child of only fifty, his father had enrolled him in archery classes. It was hard to remember exactly how many courses he had taken over the last several decades, how many times he had set an arrow upon the bow and taken aim.
He did so now, waiting for a clear shot. He once again brought the picture of beautiful, stubborn, and oh-so-important Valentine Lewis to mind, and closed his thoughts and ears to all outside stimulation. It was time to prepare the words that would prove his worth to everyone that mattered—to his father, to Dimitria, to Eros, to all of the other Cupids entering training. And most importantly, to himself. Gideon needed to do this, and do it right, to meet the final goal that he’d set for himself so many years ago. Get this done, and do it right, and he’d no longer be a winger. He’d be a Cupid, and a Cupid is the one thing that he’d always needed to be.
The coast was clear. Gideon looked right and left, and seeing no one hurrying in his direction from either way, raised his bow and took aim.
Bad Boys Over Easy Page 8