by Amanda Heger
Jake sighed and pulled his hand away. “Fine. But if Oliver calls you or stops by, call me before you do anything. Promise me.”
“I promise.” She left him in the parking lot and took off for the bland comfort of home. And she hadn’t left it since. This morning, she’d told her mother she had a sore throat and didn’t want to spread anything to her father. Then she’d curled up on her couch with a marathon of true-crime documentaries in the background. After she’d had enough of The Winged One Confesses: Stories of a Deranged Cupid, she’d dusted herself off and headed for a hot, sulking shower.
The room warmed around her, and her reflection smudged and faded in the steam. On the back of the toilet, her phone lit up with a text from Jake.
You doing okay?
She considered leaving the text unanswered, but instead sent him a simple Yes.
There. She gave herself a mental pat on the back. Just two colleagues checking in with each other. No flirty banter. No eggplant emojis…
Argh. She put the phone facedown and stepped away. No more dirty thoughts about Jake. She needed to get him out of her system, like, yesterday. Or, preferably, two and a half weeks ago. Luckily, she knew exactly how to take care of this problem. All she needed was ten minutes and her trusty silver bullet. She’d run through all those looks and touches she’d locked away over the last couple of weeks, and she’d emerge from her apartment saying, “Jake who?”
She left the bathroom to dig around in her bedside table, but when she tried to turn her vibrator on, nothing happened. Not even a twitch. “No problem,” she muttered as she stepped into her kitchen. “Better to have fresh batteries anyway.”
When she pulled open her trusty battery drawer, only the beige bottom stared up at her.
Nada. Nothing. Zilch. She had no batteries, a dead vibrator, and a very detailed memory of the way Jake’s erection had pressed against her belly yesterday. The old Eliza would have given up, turned on the documentary again, and learned all about a Cupid who’d murdered dozens of people thirty years ago. But the new Eliza—the tenacious, take-no-prisoners one—wasn’t going to give up until she’d worked this man out of her system.
She’d just have to take care of this the old-fashioned way: with the removable showerhead.
Eliza flipped off the bathroom lights, leaving only the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the window. She climbed into the shower, and the contrast between the hot water and her cool skin left a trail of goose bumps down her arms and legs. She closed her eyes and dipped her head under the water. It soaked her hair and dripped across her body, rolling gently over her nipples.
She hadn’t done anything but think about Jake’s “eggplant emoji,” and already her body was revved and ready to go. This was definitely what she needed to get her brain back on track. Eliza let one hand slide down her wet body, her thumb tracing over one nipple, then the other, as she used her other hand to unhook the showerhead from its clip on the wall.
A warm ache blossomed between her thighs, and she sank to the bottom of the tub. Her skin chilled without the constant stream of water, and she closed her eyes, relishing in the discordant feelings. The water coming from the showerhead became Jake’s hands, warm on her cool body.
His fingers moved across her stomach, dipping just low enough to tease her before coming back up to her chest. He smiled down at her with that I-know-exactly-how-to-worship-your-body grin and planted lingering kisses along her neck. Then, when the teasing had her begging for more, he nudged her thighs apart and ran a thumb straight down her slick center.
“Eliza,” he growled in her ear before dipping his head lower. And lower. And even lower, until his mouth and hands worked her like putty—building her up to something almost complete before bringing her back down. “I’ve been wanting to do this since you pulled into the driveway that night,” he said. “To taste you. Touch you. Feel you come around me.”
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
Above her, he raised one eyebrow. Gods, she loved it when he rode that line between confidence and arrogance. The only thing she’d love more was if he rode her straight down that line and into oblivion. Her legs trembled, and inside she felt hollow with need as she stared into his scorching eyes.
“Fuck me,” she said again. “Please.”
He lowered himself, and she sucked in a breath as his bare chest made contact with hers. It was all so perfect. The weight of him. The feel of his rough fingers against her skin. His thick, hard cock pressing—
“Eliza!” Her mother’s voice came from the other side of the door, followed quickly by the sound of the knob jiggling. “Honey, are you okay in there?”
Eliza jerked upright and let go of the showerhead. It spun, spraying her in the face with lukewarm water as she grabbed for it. Gods, this was like a flashback to her teenage years. She finally gave up and shut off the water. Why in the world had she given her parents a key? “I’m fine, Mom. What’s going on?”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you. You’ve already gotten three calls from a potential client this morning. She said it’s an emergency.”
“Just a minute.” Eliza took a deep breath, stood on Jell-O legs, and turned the shower to the coldest setting she could stand. Once she’d blasted her brain and body back into the present, she wrapped a towel around herself and opened the bathroom door. “Mom, I’m really not feeling well. Can you just take a message?”
Her mother’s mouth was set into a single firm line with dozens of tiny wrinkles running straight to it. Her usually perfect coif looked only half-brushed, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. All at once, Eliza was struck by how old and tired her mom seemed. “Honey, I appreciate that you don’t feel well, but we have a money-back guarantee. If something went wrong—”
“Mom, take a message. I promise I’ll call her back tomorrow. Maybe you should take the day off too. You look like you could use some rest.”
“I can’t, and neither can you. The woman insisted on coming by the office in half an hour, and if you aren’t there, she says she’ll file a complaint with the Department. What in the world is going on?”
“I don’t know. What was her name?”
Her mother pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket. “Helen Rothchild. I checked the files, but we don’t have a Rothchild case.”
“Because she’s not a client. She works at Red Clover. I gave her my card the other day, that’s all.”
“Go to the office and get this settled. I have an appointment at noon, so I can’t be there to smooth things over for you this time.” Her mother turned and disappeared down the hall. The click of the front lock followed.
Eliza stepped back into the shower, annoyed, hurt, and utterly unsatisfied. Not only had she failed to get Jake out of her mind, but now she was desperate to know what it would feel like to have him in her body. And there was absolutely no time to find out—even in her fantasies. She had a serious problem named Helen Rothchild. Once that was handled, she could turn her attention to where she and fantasy-Jake had left off. Then everything in her life could go back to normal.
Even if she wasn’t sure she wanted normal anymore.
* * *
“There you are! I swear I thought you were avoiding me,” Helen said.
From her position at the receptionist’s desk, Eliza took in the Red Clover manager. Gone were the dead eyes and slack jaw. She looked like a younger, brighter version of the woman Eliza had met earlier in the week. “Not at all. Just had some things to take care of this morning,” Eliza said. “What can I help you with today?”
Best to get whatever Helen wanted out of the way as quickly as possible. Eliza didn’t have the time or energy to deal with a high-maintenance client right now.
“Like I said, it’s delicate.”
The bells over the door clanged, and Jake stepped into the office. His gray sweatpants clung to his
thighs, and his black workout shirt was the stuff fantasies were made of. “Hey. I was out for a run. Got here as fast as I could. What’s the emergency? Did Oliver call you?”
“No, but I called him to make sure he knew about our latest client. Jake, meet Helen. Helen, Jake.”
Jake’s features froze in a moment of confusion before he lifted a hand to wave. “Hi, Helen.”
“Jake! I wouldn’t have guessed I’d run into you here,” Helen said. “But good to see you. Back on the market?”
Back on the market? “You two know each other?” Eliza asked.
Jake nodded toward Elijah’s office. “Eliza, can I speak to you for a moment? We’ll be right with you, Helen,” he added.
Eliza shuffled toward her brother’s office and closed the door behind her. “What’s going on?”
Jake stood on the opposite side of the room—solidly within the “safe zone”—and shook his head. Eliza knew she should be glad he was back to actively fighting the attraction. But she also knew she was supposed to eat five servings of fruit and vegetables every day. That didn’t mean she did it.
“Jake?” she prompted.
“Helen and I went on a date last year. Some friends set us up when I was home on a break. We didn’t have any chemistry, and I never saw her again.”
“You dated her?” Eliza definitely wasn’t jealous. Just like she definitely wasn’t going to leave work and stress eat a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips tonight.
“One date. And it was a bust. But if it makes you uncomfortable, maybe we should tell her you’re too busy to take new clients,” Jake said.
It was more than the failed date that made her uncomfortable. It was everything about Helen’s secretive demeanor, not to mention the way she’d practically had Herman & Herman on speed dial. But Eliza wasn’t sure she could explain all that right now. And if she could, would he even believe her? Or would he just think Eliza couldn’t handle the thought of him having a past that didn’t include her?
“No. It’s fine,” she said. “She already threatened to file a complaint with the Department.” Eliza gave him a knowing look. “Do you really think I need to deal with that on top of what happened yesterday?”
“There you are!” The office door opened, and Helen’s face appeared in the doorway. “What in the world is taking you so long? It’s like herding cats with you two.”
“So sorry, Helen,” Eliza said. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell us what you need?”
“Before we get started, should I get my partner?” Helen asked. “He’s waiting in the car. I wasn’t sure you’d be here, and I didn’t want to drag him out.”
“I didn’t realize you had a partner already.” Relief drummed through Eliza’s body. Helen already had a partner. This was going to be as simple as enchanting the Johansens. What was she getting so worked up about? “Please bring him in. It’ll be easier to go over all the paperwork at once.”
“Great. I’ll be back in a snap.”
“Whew,” Jake said as soon as she’d gone. “At least this will be an easy one.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed one ankle over the other.
“Maybe.” Eliza stared up at the ceiling and tried not to look at him. But despite her best attempts, she couldn’t deny that he could be the poster boy for Sexy “R” Us. She wasn’t sure what they would sell there, but she imagined it would make lots of people extraordinarily relaxed and happy.
No, you are not thinking about Jake’s penis right now. You are absolutely not.
But, gods damn it, she definitely was.
“Here we are,” Helen’s singsong voice entered the room half a second before she and her partner did.
The edges of Eliza’s vision went black. “What the…”
Three pairs of eyes stared back at her. Jake’s, Helen’s, and Jake’s.
Wait.
No, that wasn’t Jake in the doorway. But it definitely was Jake-esque.
“Eliza, meet Jacque.” Helen gestured to the Jake facsimile at her side.
And the closer Eliza looked, the more she realized that’s all he was—a facsimile. Jake’s eyes had those sparkling gold flecks, and Jacque’s eyes were a solid brown. Jake’s eyebrows went a little wild at the edges, and Jacque’s were perfectly groomed. Jake had a certain warm, mischievous grin, like he was keeping one of your deepest secrets safe. Jacque didn’t smile. At all.
“Hi,” Eliza said, doing her best to pull herself together. “Nice to meet you.”
Silence.
“He won’t say anything back. He never does anymore.” Helen’s voice shook a little. Beside her, still leaning against the wall like an annoyingly sexy James Dean, Jake’s mouth fell open.
What in the Underworld…? Eliza looked back and forth between Jake, Jacque, and Helen but came no closer to figuring out what was going on. “Well, why don’t we sit down and see what we can do?” she offered.
“Thank you.” Helen hefted Jacque over her shoulder and moved to the couch.
Eliza’s eyes widened. Was Jacque…not alive? Suddenly, she remembered that infomercial she’d seen at the hospital about the very personal assistant. Either she was being asked to enchant a sex robot, or she had a Weekend at Bernie’s situation on her hands. “Helen, is Jacque—”
“A fully customized Mandroid? Yes.”
This had to be a joke. Eliza glanced over her shoulder, expecting Jake to give her a gotcha. Instead, he looked just as confused as she did. “I can’t turn him on anymore,” Helen said.
Eliza turned to her client. “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I can’t turn him on anymore.” Helen’s eyes went glassy with tears, and Eliza knew this wasn’t a joke. Or if it was, this woman was giving an Oscar-worthy performance.
“Meaning what, exactly?”
Helen sighed and looked at Eliza like she was the dumbest Cupid on earth. “His switch. I can’t get it to flip.”
“And by switch you mean… You know what? Never mind. Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Eliza asked. She needed time to regain her composure. Days probably. “How long have you and Jacque, uh, been together?”
“Three years. I even brought our ‘love history’—that’s the list of catalog choices I made when I purchased him—in case that would be helpful for you. I wasn’t sure what you’d need. None of the other Cupids I tried were willing to help us.” Helen plopped a thick folder on the table. “I know he’s not real, but I paid a lot of money for him.”
At a complete loss, Eliza pulled the folder forward and opened the cover. Height, hair color, skin color, eye color, chest width, other widths, all laid out there on the first page for the choosing. The next page went into things like voice octaves and catch phrases. Page three, labeled, premium upgrades, included options like streaming music service and GPS. Based on the boxes she’d checked, Helen had sprung for each and every upgrade.
“Um, Helen,” Eliza said as she reviewed the paperwork. “Did you purposefully…” She shot a pointed look toward Jacque the Mandroid and then Jake the man.
Helen’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Did I purposefully what?”
Jake cleared his throat. “Maybe I should wait outside?” He took a sneaky step toward the door, his cheeks burning a brighter shade of red with each passing second.
“Don’t you dare,” Eliza whispered. If this lady had built a sex robot to look like Jake, they had to have gone on more than just one mediocre date. Right? Right? She turned back to Helen. “Can you remind me how you know Jake?”
The woman shrugged. “We went out once, what…five years ago? Three? I can’t remember. No offense, Jake.”
“None taken.”
“Once?” Eliza asked.
Helen frowned. “How is this relevant to my current situation?”
Eliza glanced back and forth between Helen and Jake and back again. Th
e woman seemed genuinely confused about, well, everything—except the fact that her robot had stopped performing his Mandroidly duties. “Really?” Eliza asked. “You don’t see the—”
“Why don’t we just move on?” Jake asked. “Helen, you said—”
Who cares what she said? I just want to know why she had a sex toy made to look like Jake. My Jake. “No,” Eliza murmured, half a second too late to keep the thought from forming.
“Excuse me?” Helen said.
“Um, I, uh…” Eliza scrambled for an explanation that wouldn’t involve (a) offending Helen or (b) admitting she’d just thought of Jake as hers. “I was just saying to myself No way! because I realized who Jacque reminds me of.”
“Who’s that?” Helen asked.
Eliza held up one hand as a fake shield and used the other to point at Jake, like this was a secret between girlfriends and not the most obvious answer on the planet.
“What?” Helen said, visibly confused. She looked at Jake. “I… No…” Then her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes went wide. “Oh! How did I…?”
“It’s quite a coincidence,” Eliza said.
“I ordered him long after our date. I didn’t realize.” Helen buried her face in her hands, and Eliza could nearly feel the embarrassment radiating from her.
Silence stretched throughout the office, and Eliza waited, praying someone else would break it. They didn’t.
Talk about awkward. She definitely shouldn’t have said anything. Now Helen had been shamed into silence, and Jake had apparently lost the ability to speak. And as for Jacque, well, he wasn’t adding much to the conversation either.
“Helen, I’m sure Jake understands,” Eliza finally said before giving Jake a help-me-out-here-please look.
His eyes widened for a beat before he regained his composure. “Yeah, please don’t worry about it.”
Helen shook her head in silence.
Say something else, Eliza mouthed.
Jake cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m flattered.”