Dallas Fire & Rescue: Emergency Cupid (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Cupid Book 1)

by Naquin, R. L.

  “Actually, I’ve had a very long day, Stuart. It’s been a lovely evening, but I think I need to go back up to my room now.”

  He frowned. “But we’re on Wensleydale. We’re so close to the end of the alphabet.”

  Wow. Just…wow.

  “I’m sorry. I’m really not feeling well.”

  Stuart cocked his head to one side, his face arranged carefully in a concerned expression. “It was the cheese, wasn’t it? I knew it. You looked like the type who might be lactose intolerant. It’s nothing to be ashamed of—though it is an enormous loss for you. Why didn’t you speak up so we could get the nachos instead?”

  Was the guy full-on stupid or was he pulling my leg?

  “You know that nachos have…never mind.” I slid out of the booth. “Thank you for dinner, Stuart. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” What exactly did it mean to look lactose intolerant?

  It took everything in me not to make a run for it. The only thing that helped was how much I had to concentrate to walk in heels. As I rounded the corner, I heard Stuart’s voice.

  “Michelle. Do you have a moment? Do you like cheese?”

  Out of sight of the restaurant, I took off my shoes and ran for the elevator.

  I didn’t look back.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning was dull and gray. I poked my nose through the thick hotel drapes and found the world was a drowning mess. Rain pummeled my window, causing rivers to run down the glass and making it difficult to see the street below with any clarity.

  I wandered over to the sink and filled the mini coffee pot the hotel provided, then poured it into the tiny coffeemaker to wait for the water to come back out hot. I’d brought my own teabags with me, an English breakfast blend that always made me feel more at home when I was traveling.

  Each time I passed the window, I glanced outside. Something was off, but I couldn’t quite figure out what. Something poked at the back of my mind. I dropped a teabag into one of the paper cups I’d asked for housekeeping to send up and poured water over it to steep.

  A few minutes later, I pulled a chair to the window and sat looking outside while I sipped and planned my day. The rain would make things a little difficult. I’d packed a small umbrella. I could conceivably hold the umbrella with one hand and the Magic-Vac in the other, covered by a sweater.

  I stopped sipping and set my cup down. What was I thinking? I slid the window open and stuck my hand out into the cool, wet air. When I brought it back in, my fingers were wet. And clean. The street below, the few people walking on the sidewalk, my window, and my own hand—everything was clean. The magic feathers were gone, washed away by the rain.

  Relief spread through me, and I dropped into my chair. I didn’t have to run around vacuuming nine blocks of downtown Dallas with a sweater hanging over my arm. Why hadn’t I considered the possibility of rain solving the problem?

  My lips turned up in a quiet smile, and I sipped my tea. Nobody could control the weather. It was wild card. It was Chaos.

  I’d still need to undo any remaining bad matches. Rain couldn’t wash that away. For that, people needed a Cupid. I also needed to see if there were any real matches to be made, and I’d promised Oliver I’d see what I could do for his mother.

  By the time my cup was empty, my belly and my soul were warm, and my day was planned. I sent an email off to the office asking for final numbers and went to shower and dress while I waited for a response.

  A half hour later, I was dressed—in jeans, sneakers, and a lavender cardigan—and I had a response to my email.

  The Cupid department had originally discovered the problem in Dallas based on the number of potentially bad matches showing up on the Love Grid. Since the magical tap had still been running when I arrived, matches continued to be made, and the home office hadn’t been able to give me a number to watch for. Now that the influencing spell had been turned off and had washed away, there would be no more new bad matches. I reasoned that they must have a final tally for me by now.

  I was right. According to the email, the number to look for was five. In this nine-block area, ten people had paired themselves up with someone they possibly shouldn’t have. Five inappropriate couples. If I could find them, the rest would be a regular day at work.

  Of course, I now had a brand new case of self-doubt to contend with, so I’d probably be second-guessing myself every step of the way—and I didn’t have my wings, so I had to do it as myself, in full view of the world. But at least I didn’t have to change anymore vacuum cleaner bags.

  The catch to this was that I now understood the bad matches were matches the Cupid department would have likely denied. I was still trying to get my head around the idea that sometimes the right person for someone was the wrong person. And in the case of the bad matches, the opposite might also be true—sometimes the wrong person was actually right.

  I grabbed my messenger bag and hung it over my neck and shoulder. A thrill of excitement traveled up my spine and gave me a little shiver. It was time to be proactive and do my job as a Cupid. The office could easily have sent someone from Janitorial to clean all this up. But the rest—the matching and un-matching of souls—that had to be done by a Cupid.

  The last thing I did before I left the room was to grab my tiny golden wings and pin them to the front of my sweater.

  Finally, I could do what I really came for.

  Chapter 13

  Armed with the knowledge that there were five mismatches to locate in a nine-block square, my Cupid-wing pin, and my own instincts, I headed out on the streets. I quickly discovered that sneakers were so much more comfortable than flats for walking on sidewalks, especially in the rain.

  Now that the overwhelming amount of wild magic was gone, it would be easier for me to pinpoint any residual magic. I stood outside my hotel, closed my eyes, and reached out for whatever I could find. On the block where I stood, I felt nothing. Across the street, however, I felt a stuttered hum and sensed a glow not visible to the eye. I crossed and felt for it to grow stronger as I passed each storefront and eatery.

  The vibrations were strongest in front of Glory Days music store. I slipped through the door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the overhead lights. Several people browsed the albums, flipping through the vinyl offerings in their retro covers. A couple of teenagers huddled together over an electric guitar that was for sale. A lone young woman with dark hair with hot pink tips flipped through a stack of sale albums.

  Love was in the air, this time not quite as literally as before. I felt it in my bones, and I followed it to the check-out counter. The kid at the counter wore thick glasses with black rims, a T-shirt that said Manifest Destiny, a long scarf in shades of gray wrapped in artful coils, and skinny jeans. I didn’t know much about fashion, but this guy was about as hipster as it got. His man-bun was epic.

  Love magic blew off of him in waves, but he was alone. This puzzled me until an older woman approached him behind the counter and kissed him. I immediately recognized her as the woman I’d pulled away from a skateboarder the first day I’d arrived.

  This concerned me. Not everyone in the city had been affected by the spell. To have this woman fall under it twice had to mean something. She was vulnerable, and I wanted to find out why.

  The pair greeted each other with a warm hug and a kiss that included far more tongue than I felt was proper in public. But it meant their eyes were closed, so I moved behind them and stroked my hands down their arms to remove the residual magic causing this display.

  The woman blinked up at the kid. “Son of a bitch. It happened again.”

  He took a step back, a confused look on his face. “Ma’am, you’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”

  I ignored the guy. He’d recover his cool once we were gone. My concern lay with the woman. She turned, frowning, and walked around the counter toward the door.

  Before I’d come to Dallas and learned about my high divorce rate, I’d have take
n her outside, found a nice, single man about her age, and shot them both with arrows so they’d match up and get married. Now, however, I was determined to do better. Now that I knew about my previous mistakes, I wanted to learn the right way to do things. Vanessa had said I needed to connect with people.

  I strode past the woman and held the door open for her. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

  She shook her head, paused, then nodded. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

  I patted her arm. “Nah. It’s probably the weather. I was about to get a cup of tea. Can I buy you one, too? I hate sitting alone, and I’m thinking you could use a few minutes.”

  She looked at me, then gave a slow nod. “I think that’s a very good idea. Thank you.”

  We left the shop and went next door. Fortunately, in a city that big, every block had a coffee shop of some kind.

  The woman’s name was Audrey, and I spent at least a half hour with her, listening. Really listening.

  She sipped her tea and told me about how her kids were too busy with their lives to spend time with her anymore. “My Richard passed away four years ago. I miss him so much.” She paused and took out her wallet, flipped through the photos, and held one up for me. “Here’s our wedding photo. Wasn’t he handsome?” Her smile was filled with nostalgia and sadness.

  I touched the photo with one finger. “What a beautiful couple. You look so in love. How long were you married?”

  “Forty-two years.” She closed up her wallet and returned it to her purse. Her gaze wandered to the street, and she sat sipping her tea, lost in her own thoughts.

  I didn’t need a degree in psychology to understand why Audrey had been so easily influenced by the magic. She was lonely. And even after talking to her for such a short time, I believed that romance wasn’t necessarily the cure.

  We talked for a bit longer, and I discovered that Audrey was an animal lover.

  “My cockapoo, Daisy, passed last year.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears. She took a moment to control her emotions, then pulled her chin up and held her hand up, as if I’d been about to say something she didn’t want to hear. “Don’t tell me to get another dog. I don’t think I can take one more heartbreak. I’m done with that.”

  I set my cup down and picked up my phone. “Have you ever considered volunteering at an animal shelter?”

  “Well, no.” A tiny light of hope sparked in her eyes. “I’m a little old for that, don’t you think?”

  I scowled. “You’re not too old for anything unless you say so. You know, sometimes shelters need people to foster animals on a temporary basis. Maybe you could do that?”

  The corner of her mouth twitched. “They do that?”

  “Some do.” I did a search on my phone and found a nearby shelter, then clicked on the tab for volunteer opportunities. There were a lot. I handed over the phone and showed her. “Take a look.”

  Audrey read the website with growing excitement. “I can do this fostering thing. And I could do some receptionist work for them a day or two a week, too.” She glanced up at me, her eyes shining. “Who are you, Ellen? Why were you in that shop when I needed you most?”

  I smiled at her. “I was lost. But I think I found my way.”

  She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m so glad you did.”

  Chapter 14

  I followed the outer circle of the affected area, the eight blocks surrounding the fire station like a big square donut. The next mismatch I found was three blocks away, around the corner from the coffee shop I’d had tea in with Audrey.

  At first glance, there was nothing wrong with the couple sitting together on the bench waiting for their bus. They were roughly the same age, dressed in a similar style and quality, and appeared to be perfectly matched in personality. I couldn’t discount the uneasy feeling I had, the buzzing in my head, or the invisible halo around them only I could sense.

  I plopped onto the bench beside them.

  “No, you’re silly,” the woman said, poking the man and giggling.

  “No, you are!” He poked her in return, then gave her nose a tweak.

  I bent closer, trying to feel the texture of the magic.

  It felt oily, like the air had a thick coat of grease.

  I knelt unnoticed on the sidewalk between the two. Their hands each sported wedding rings, which surprised me. The light caught the shiny surfaces and I realized that one ring was gold, the other silver. Even worse, his was decorated with diagonal stripes of tiny diamond chips. Hers was smooth but for two sapphires on either side of the slot where her engagement diamond nestled.

  These two were married, but not to each other.

  As I rose from my crouch, I grabbed both their arms, pretending I was falling. With the downward stroke of my hands, I removed the residual magic.

  Within seconds, the woman scowled and scooted away from the man. He looked at me, then her before scooting across the bench in the other direction.

  The bus pulled up and opened its door. Several people got off, and the man hopped on without looking at us. The doors slid closed, and the bus pulled away with the man staring out at us. The woman never said a word.

  When her bus came, she left as quietly as the man had.

  “Two down. Three to go.” I sighed and left the bench to continue walking the circle of blocks around the fire station.

  At an ice cream shop, I found a man in his forties mooning after a girl young enough to be is daughter. She kept giggling and batting her eyelashes at him between customers, and twice I saw him double-check his wallet for the condom I noticed he had stashed behind his cash.

  This was the worst kind of match, and the vibration in the air made my back teeth rattle. I touched his arm as I walked by, then reached directly over the counter and touched hers.

  The girl frowned and glared at the man, and his face grew pink. He turned on his heel and bolted out of the shop.

  I ordered a vanilla cone and continued on my way with my snack.

  The circle was nearly complete before I found the fourth match.

  The bookstore was full, mostly of children. A woman sat in a tiny chair on a large carpet. She bent forward with a book in her hand, reading out loud to the children spread at her feet on the carpet.

  Outside the circle of children in a darkened corner, a quiet man with blond hair and blue-gray eyes sat in a wheelchair, listening to the story and smiling softly. His eyes were on the woman, not the book. From time to time, the woman looked up from her book to share the pictures with the kids. Her eyes always rested for a few seconds on the man in the corner.

  I moved to stand near him.

  He glanced up at me and smiled. “She’s really good, isn’t she?”

  I nodded. “She is. Do you listen to her often?”

  “Every week. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Been coming for two years.”

  Two years. That was long before the love bomb had gone off.

  “She seems to be glad you’re here.”

  The woman lifted the book high to show a picture of a fish swimming in the ocean. She glanced our way and gave the man a shy smile.

  He chuckled. “That’s the crazy part. She’s never noticed me before.”

  I watched awhile longer as the two moved in their silent dance. I never would have put them together before today. But now, I could see that they were perfect for each other.

  Would they be happy together forever? Who knew? There were never any guarantees, and while I hadn’t known that before, I knew that now. Even a careful match could end.

  And so, I let them be. I dropped my hand to the man’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Good luck. I hope you live happily ever after.”

  I meant it with my whole heart. The wild magic from the love bomb in the toilet, it seemed, didn’t necessarily create bad matches. It created accidental matches.

  Not all accidents were bad. Maybe that was what Vanessa had been trying to show me.

  On my last block, I passed the storefr
ont being renovated, then the pet shop I’d seen earlier. The display window showcased a large pen filled with cedar shavings and at least a dozen tiny baby bunnies. I stopped in front of it, grinning, and tapped the window. A woman inside reached in and scratched a black and white bunny between the ears.

  I had to go in. I wanted to pet the bunnies. This whole trip had been stressful as all Hades. I deserved some baby bunny love.

  They were every bit as soft as I’d expected. A little gray one was particularly sweet, and I wanted to stay with him all day.

  A man appeared at my elbow. “He seems to like you. Would you like to hold him?”

  When I looked up, I found I was talking to Steve, the man Megan had been kissing that first day.

  “Maybe for a minute. I can’t keep him, though, as much as I’d love to. I’m here from out of town. And really, I can’t have pets.”

  “Ah, that’s a shame. He’ll be heartbroken.” Steve grinned and scooped up the bunny and handed him to me.

  The rabbit was so small, he fit in one of my hands. I held him against my chest, delighting in the softness and the trusting look he gave me.

  “Why don’t you just walk around the store with him for a bit?” Steve winked at me and disappeared to help another customer.

  “He’s just evil, isn’t he, Precious?” I rubbed my cheek against my new friend. “Yes, he is.” The bunny didn’t answer, but he didn’t object, either.

  When I was in third grade, our classroom had a guinea pig named Charley. Every Friday, someone in the class got to take Charley home with them until Monday. My parents declined to sign the permission slip for me to take a turn.

  Mom had said it would make a mess with all the woodchips and food pellets. Dad had pointed out how full our weekends were with music lessons, room tidying, and studying. They were right, of course. Though looking back, I couldn’t imagine why a third grader need to study all weekend.

  My older brother brought a fish home when he was ten. Our parents made him give it to the neighbors. Rules were rules. My brother had always had trouble appreciating that.