As if trying hard not to think about him had summoned the exact guy I needed, in he came, straight into the kitchen.
“Wyatt!” Reggie waved a spatula at him. “Just in time. Dinner’s almost ready.”
At the card table, a pretty blonde woman with short hair snorted and drew two cards from the deck. “Wyatt’s always just in time for dinner.”
Wyatt—now I had a name, at least—placed a huge pink box on the kitchen counter. “Hey, now. I’ve been busy. I went by to see Jax to give him the toaster he needed me to fix. While I was there, Skye gave me all these cupcakes to bring down here. You’d think I’d get a little gratitude.”
Reggie popped open the box and peeked inside. “I’m grateful.” He closed the box up again. “Did you take the box I left here on the counter?”
I perked up. “Come on, baby. Spill it. What did you do with the box?”
“Yeah. I took it to the shop. I should have some time tomorrow to work on fixing all that stuff.” He frowned. “Did anybody leave a broken hand-vac in the bathroom?”
Nobody answered.
He pulled out a stool by the counter and straddled it. “Well, anyway, if anybody’s missing it, let them know I took it to the shop, too. Weird little vacuum. But I couldn’t get it to work. I’ll see what I can do in the morning.”
So that was it. I’d read somewhere that a lot of firemen had second jobs. This one had a repair shop.
I whipped out my phone and did a search for shops in the area. It only took a minute to find one two blocks down—Wyatt’s Small-Appliance Repair. They opened first thing in the morning.
My plan wasn’t derailed after all. By tomorrow morning, I’d steal back my Magic-Vac 5000 and be back to work.
Another chance to stare at Wyatt and smell his aftershave would be a nice little bonus.
Chapter 5
Stuart was still at the front desk when I came through the lobby to go up to my room. I stopped a moment to admire the crisp crease in his sleeves from ironing. Not a lot of men bothered to iron anymore. He had a nice face. Not too serious, but not frivolous—like someone who knew when it was appropriate to tell a joke and when it was appropriate to give advice.
He typed something into the computer and the printer came to life behind him. So often, people behind a counter simply stood around waiting to be told what to do. Stuart kept himself busy.
I smiled to myself and headed toward the elevator. The hotel had room service. I’d go to my room, take off my wings, then have a nice salad and maybe a bowl of soup sent up. I punched the up button and waited.
The doors binged and slid open. I stepped inside, and the doors slid closed. Almost. At the last second, a hand stopped them and pulled them apart. Vanessa stepped inside, grinning.
I groaned. “Oh, come on.”
She chuckled. “Please. Did you think I went back home? There’s still a mess to fix.” The doors opened on my floor and she walked to my door with me. “I’ve been waiting for you in the lobby, but I heard a tray of dishes crash in the bar, so I slipped away for a moment to go watch. I almost missed you.”
“What a shame that would have been.” I doubted she noticed my deadpan sarcasm. I slipped my keycard in the slot and pushed the door open. “See you later.”
Why I thought that would work I’ll never know. Of course, she walked in right behind me.
“Your room is so tidy.” She poked her head in the bathroom. “So many skin care products.” She gasped. “Are they in alphabetical order?”
I frowned. “Of course not. They’re arranged in the order I use them. That they’re also alphabetized is a bonus. I didn’t do it with that particular goal.” I placed my messenger bag on a shelf, then took off my wings and hung them in the closet with my clothing. “I’ve had a long day. I’d like to get some dinner and get things ready for tomorrow so I can go to bed soon, if you don’t mind.”
She stood behind me, staring in my closet. “Good gods, woman. How many cardigans do you have?” She glanced down at the floor where my shoes were lined up in a neat row. “You’re not real. There aren’t really people who are like this.”
I frowned. “Where did you put your shoes?”
“They’re still crammed in my suitcase. If I need them, I’ll dig them out.”
“That’s terrible for the shoes, you know. They need to air out. The leather will crack and they’ll lose their shape.”
She frowned and stood on her toes to inspect the shelf above the rack. “Where’s your bow? Where’s your quiver of magical arrows?”
“They’re small. I keep them in my bag.” I took down my messenger bag and opened it, showing her the miniature bow and flimsy arrows with heart-shaped fletching. “I only use them for matches. I can’t do that until the rest of this mess is cleaned up.”
“They’re as ridiculous as those wings.”
“I like them. They’re better than a notebook and pen. And my aim is perfect.”
She made a sour face and scrutinized me as I returned my bag to its spot. “I bet you were planning on ordering something bizarre tonight, like cottage cheese or a vegetable platter.”
I sighed. “Can you just go, please?”
“Nope.” She grabbed my bag off its shelf. “I found us a perfect place to eat a few doors down.” She shoved my bag into my arms and propelled me toward the door. “You’re going to love it, and we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
She was like a force of nature. I wanted to object, but I was out the door before I had a chance to think. The elevator stood waiting, and we were back in the lobby a moment later.
“See you later, Stuart!” She waved at the front desk guy, and he lifted his hand, barely acknowledging her. He glanced at me with a bit more interest and gave a more genuine wave.
I waved back, not wanting to be rude as Vanessa hustled me through the lobby, out the door, and down the sidewalk. By the time I caught my breath, we were there.
We stood in front of a small counter-service restaurant with a limited number of tables inside. According to the menu, they served nothing but a variety of gourmet, made-to-order macaroni and cheese.
I resisted as she tried to drag me inside. “I can’t eat all those carbs. Are you crazy?”
“It has been suggested before that I’m crazy, but never by my doctor, so I think we’re safe from my insanity. Come on, already.”
I gave up and went with her. I ordered the Garden Mac, which had a variety of peppers, onions, and mushrooms in it. That way, I reasoned, I was at least getting some vegetables into my body. I also bought a bottle of water to sip while I ate.
I finished ordering first and found us a table. Vanessa showed up a few minutes later carrying two frosty pints of what was probably some local brew and set one in front of me before tasting her own.
“I didn’t order that.” I was not going to pay for it. Nobody needed a drunken Cupid.
“Oh, lighten up. I’ve got some things to tell you that you’re not going to like hearing. Drink. It’ll help you relax.”
The expression on her face was serious. I had a feeling she wasn’t lying. I wasn’t going to enjoy this conversation. I took a few gulps of beer and made a face. “Uh, beer is nasty.”
“You’ve never had it before?”
I shook my head and took another taste. “Nope. Still nasty.”
She patted my hand. “Drink it anyway, sugarplum. It’ll grow on you. And you could definitely use some loosening up.”
I sipped it, made a face, and sipped again. “Tastes like a cross between cornflakes and earwax.”
“Tell me you’ve had other alcohol. I can see never trying beer, but you’ve had other stuff, right?”
“Sure. Champagne at weddings. I drank half a wine cooler once at my cousin’s birthday party.” I took another sip of the beer. “Oh, and some kind of punch at an aunt’s baby shower. Rum, I think. It tasted like fruit punch, but after a couple of cups of it, I was kind of wobbly.”
She shook her head. “This is worse t
han I was afraid it was.” She paused, assessing me. “Who’s your best friend?”
Startled, I took a bigger sip from my glass. “What kind of question is that?”
Her voice was quiet. “The kind most everyone can answer without thinking. When was your last date? The last time you went out with friends? What about co-workers?”
I gulped my beer, and the bubbles burned on the way down. Tears made pinpricks behind my eyelids, and I tried not to let her see that she’d hit a nerve.
She rubbed my arm. “Okay. I’m going to give you a minute. This is going to get harder before it gets easier.” She glanced over my shoulder. “Ooh! Our food is here.”
The mac and cheese was served in individual cast iron pans with tiny oven mitts over the handles. The presentation was adorable. I hoped the food would be good, because at present, I wanted to drown in carbs and cheese. This strange woman had already hit my most sensitive emotional spots. What more could she do to me?
Chaos was kind of a bitch. Witch. I meant witch. No need for harsh language.
She had good taste in food, though. And once my beer was empty, I found they also had hard cider. I learned I liked that much better than beer.
When we’d scraped our personal skillets free of all the cheesy, carby goodness, Vanessa set down her fork and sighed. It was a serious sigh and she had a serious expression to go with it.
“I told you I’m here to observe.”
I nodded. “Yes. Some weird interoffice experiment of cooperation.”
She bit her lip. “Yes and no.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not…I’m not supposed to be telling you this. But I like you. And I want to help.”
“Why would someone from the Chaos department help? You’re whole job is to observe, right?” The beer and cider hadn’t made me drunk, exactly, but I did feel a bit buzzed, and she wasn’t making sense. “And I don’t think I need help, anyway. I have everything under control.”
“Well, that’s just it. You have everything under control. And it’s not working for you.”
“Look, I’ll have you know I’m the number one Cupid in the office. My matches are thirty-five percent higher than Devon Yorkshire’s. Nobody can beat me.” I pounded the table with one finger for emphasis. “No one. Flugelhorn!”
Maybe I was a little more than buzzed.
Vanessa’s expression was almost sad. No. On second thought, it might’ve been more like pity. “Honey, I know your record. Probably better than you do.” She took my hand and folded it between both of hers. “You’re matches also have a sixty-seven percent higher divorce rate than anyone else in your office.”
I blinked at her. “What?”
“You’re as efficient as an assembly line, Ellen, but you’re not making cars. You’re creating love. That’s something only a human can do if it’s going to be done right. And you can’t move through your life avoiding interaction with humans.”
I sat staring at her, unable to quite put together what she was saying. “But…but the numbers match up. Their interests are the same. I put together people so they’ll be happy.”
She squeezed my hand. “How can you know what will make people happy if you don’t talk to them?”
The little restaurant seemed even smaller, and I wasn’t sure if it could hold enough oxygen for all the people in it. “I don’t know what to do.” My chest felt tight and all that cheese hardened into a ball in the pit of my stomach.
My entire life was a lie.
“There’s only one thing you can do to fix this, sweetie. You’ll have to give up your wings and do the job in person.”
I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t do my job without my wings.”
“You can, and you will.” She stood and waited for me to follow. “Trust me. Everything’s going to work out in the end. You just have to take a few risks.”
Chapter 6
My plan had been to go into the appliance repair shop first thing in the morning, invisible. I would slip behind the counter, pocket my vacuum when no one was looking that direction, then slip out. I’d have to come up with another plan, now.
Vanessa took away my wings.
When we went back upstairs, she followed me into my room, slid my wings out of the closet, and fixed me with a firm stare. “I’ll keep them safe until you’re ready for them. From here on out, I can’t help anymore. I really do have to observe and report back. But you’ll do fine. Fix the Dallas love bomb and you’ll fix yourself. Trust me. A little Chaos is good for you.”
I’d been too stunned to object or try to stop her, and she’d marched out before I really understood what had happened. Once I’d recovered enough, I ran into the hall, but she was gone. And when I went down to ask the woman at the front desk which room my friend was staying in, I found out Vanessa wasn’t even staying at the same hotel.
So, there I was the next morning, standing a few doors down from Wyatt’s Small-Appliance Repair, waiting in full view of everyone for it to open. For the millionth time, I asked myself why I’d stood there and let Vanessa take my wings without fighting her for them. For the millionth time, I had to admit that I’d been in shock over the news that less than half of my matches stuck.
Why hadn’t anyone told me? What was I doing wrong? Everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. And now, despite years of being told I was the best, I felt like it was my first day on the job.
And I’d shown up naked.
Not literally naked, of course. A small gold pin in the shape of wings adorned my sweater. The Cupid pin didn’t have the power to make me invisible, but it still gave me the ability to see and feel love magic, sense love, and match and un-match people. We used them mostly for backup in case a wing broke or we ran out of arrows. Honestly, except for the lack of invisibility, the pin was far more efficient than the wings or the bow and arrows.
I checked the buttons on my pink and white cardigan to be sure they were straight and wiped my sweaty palms on my pink-checked skirt. Some people in the office thought jeans and a sloppy tee were appropriate. I’d always dressed in a skirt and sweater, usually in pink, red, or purple. Just because people couldn’t see me didn’t mean I shouldn’t look the part.
Now that I knew the truth about myself, I wondered if it mattered what I wore. Ironic, since now I was visible.
I was so busy mulling over the idea that maybe a pair of jeans might not be such a horrible addition to my wardrobe, I failed to notice Wyatt unlock his store and go inside. The jingling bells shook me out of my thoughts, and I made my way to the door.
Where I promptly froze.
I’d been so worried about being out in public without my wings and actually having to talk to people, I hadn’t come up with a plan. What was I supposed to say?
This had to stop. I was a professional, no matter what Vanessa had told me. I’d march in there, tell him he’d picked up my hand-vac my mistake, and ask for it back. No problem. I swallowed hard, pushed back my shoulders, and stepped into the shop. The bell on the door jingled on my way in.
“I’ll be right with you!” His voice came from far back behind the counter in another room.
I folded my hands together and waited. The walls were decorated with prints of antique appliances—iceboxes, wood-burning stoves, and hand-crank washing machines. The space on the wall behind the counter was piled with a wild disarray of microwaves, toasters, and coffee pots.
I shook my head. It was a mess. How could he know where anything was?
Wyatt came out from the back, wiping his hands on a cloth. His smile was bright and reached his eyes. He said something, but I missed it.
“I’m sorry. What?” My voice squeaked before I could stop it.
“I asked what I could do to help.”
For a moment, I watched his full lips moving, wondering if they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to touch the dimple in his chin with a fingertip and see if the dimple softened the stubble around it. And that damn aftershave of his
was intoxicating.
I opened my mouth, and a bunch of nonsense spilled out. “I’m my vac here.” I tried again. “I have your vacuum. My vacuum. You have my vacuum.”
Had anyone in the history of the world ever imploded from embarrassment?
He leaned one forearm on the counter and grinned. “You’re here to pick up your vacuum cleaner?”
“Yes.” I shook my head. “No.”
He chuckled. “Which is it?”
I took a deep, cleansing breath and started again. “I believe you picked up my hand-vac by mistake.”
He tilted his head and regarded me with a long look that made my knees a little wobbly. “Where was it? Can you describe it?”
I sighed. “It’s a hand-vac. Shiny. About so big.” I held my hands apart. “I was…um…doing some volunteer work yesterday. Cleaning to help out our busy first responders.” The smile I added was a bit of an afterthought, but I knew I had adorable dimples. Hopefully, they’d make my story more believable.
“I see.” His eyes narrowed in a playful way. “And where did you leave it?”
“In the washroom by the rec room.” I flashed him the smile again.
He pushed away from the counter. “Well, I have good news, and I have bad news.” He walked through the doorway to the back of the store while he spoke. His head popped in and out of view as he rummaged in the piles in the back. After a moment, he returned to the counter carrying my Magic-Vac 5000.
Relief washed over me, and I held my hands out. “That’s it! Thank you so much.”
He didn’t hand it over.
“Yeah, like I said. Good news and bad. The good news is, I have your vacuum. The bad news is, it doesn’t work”
Well, of course it didn’t work for him. He wasn’t a Cupid.
I held my hands out. “That’s alright. I know how to make it work.”
“I’d never seen a model like this before, and since I didn’t think there would be anybody to claim it, I took it apart.”
My mouth fell open. “You what?”
“I took it apart to try to fix it. Didn’t work, unfortunately. But I’ve ordered parts for it. They should be here in about a week.”
Dallas Fire & Rescue: Emergency Cupid (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Cupid Book 1) Page 3