Crazy Cupid Love Read online

  Eliza set her mangled coffee cup in front of her mother. “What’s Dad’s room number?”

  “Three twenty-one.”

  Without another word, Eliza turned and set off in the direction her mother had come.

  “Elijah and I will meet you at the car in ten,” her mother called after her.

  By the time Eliza reached room three twenty-one, their remaining time had shortened to five minutes. A half dozen wires and tubes came in and out of her father’s body, and a rhythmic beeping kept pace with his heart. It was the most comforting sound Eliza had ever heard.

  “Dad?”

  His eyelids fluttered. “Liza. Can you believe this view?”

  She glanced at the window, where the blinds had been drawn tight against the night. He must’ve still been partially sedated from the procedure. Of course her mom would make him talk about work when he was as high as a kite. Eliza sighed. “Yeah, great view.”

  “Reminds me of the time I went to Tokyo,” he slurred.

  As far as Eliza knew, her father had never been to Tokyo. She put the duffel bag down and pulled the visitor chair up to his bed. “You gave me a scare, Dad.”

  “I’m fine.” He kept his eyes closed but reached for her hand. “Worry about the techno-Cupids instead. The robots will fall in love with us before they kill us.”

  Techno-Cupids? Her father had clearly been spending too much time watching the Syfy Channel. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He opened one glassy eye and stared her down. “When I met the Mandroid-maker, he was already working on ways to take over the world.”

  She stifled a laugh, remembering the infomercial she’d seen in the waiting room. It was like a bad nursery rhyme: the butcher, the baker, and the Mandroid-maker.

  “He had a blender that could feel things. Deep things,” he said.

  Eliza squeezed his hand. “I can’t stay much longer, Dad. I just wanted to come in and say that I love you.”

  “You gotta get back to work?”

  The laugher she’d held back dissipated, leaving shame rattling around in her stomach like a ten-ton block of cement. “No, not this time.”

  “Good. You should go to Tokyo instead.”

  She smiled despite herself. Once he’d recovered, she was going to give him so much trouble about this fictionalized trip to Japan. Now, she just patted the back of his hand. The thin hospital blanket came up to his midchest, and she tucked it up higher around him—exactly the way he’d done a million times for her as a kid. Whether she’d been sick with some random childhood illness, embarrassed about something that had happened at school, or heartbroken about failing her Cupid exam, he’d always been there to pull the blankets around her chin and remind her that everything would be brighter in the morning. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. “I got fired again, so getting the time off won’t be a problem.”

  She held her breath and waited. She hadn’t meant to say it—the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her right now—but the words had tumbled out before her exhausted brain could stop them. But her father gave no indication that he’d heard a word of her confession. Thank the gods for Valium.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay, Dad. I don’t know if I could make it without you.” She kissed him on the forehead.

  “Love you too, Liza,” he whispered, eyes still closed. “You always were my favorite daughter.”

  Warmth spread through her at his familiar words. He’d be okay. Everything would be okay. “You’re still my favorite father,” she said, giving his hand one last squeeze before she stood. She waited for another quip about Tokyo. When none came, she shuffled toward the door.

  “Eliza?”

  “Yeah?” She paused with one hand on the doorknob, a part of her hoping he’d ask for a favor—bring him the book from his nightstand or run some errand that had gotten lost in the shuffle. She’d do whatever it was without question. Gratefully even. Her father had been the one to bring her comfort so many times over the years, and now she felt a growing desperation to do the same for him.

  He stirred a little and looked at her with hazy eyes. “One of these days, you’re going to come into your own. You’ll realize how powerful you are. You’re lucky that it comes so easily. Your mother and I…” His voice faded and his eyes reclosed. “Not as lucky as you.”

  Eliza froze, her heart heavy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad,” she whispered and clicked the door closed behind her.

  If the Tokyo thing wasn’t enough, that spiel confirmed it: her father was on enough drugs to power Woodstock. But even if he wouldn’t remember his words in the morning, Eliza knew she would. As she stepped into the hallway, they dug and clawed at the old wounds she’d buried years ago. No one in modern history had as much power to enchant as Eliza, and it had made her life miserable. Dozens of broken friendships? Yes. Failed romantic relationships? Absolutely. Inability to maintain a steady career? You betcha.

  Lucky? Not a damn day in her life.

  * * *

  The next morning, Eliza stared down the remains of the piñata. It stared back at her from the dining room table, radiating pure birthday evil from its dead, beady eyes. Condoms streamed from its insides, advertising flavors like “Mom’s apple pie” and “balsamic reduction.”

  On another day, Eliza would have found a nefarious use for the flavorful prophylactics. Maybe she would have snuck into her brother’s apartment and supplemented the condoms in his bedside table with these more appalling flavors. “Ham and beans” would have been in the running for sure. But yesterday had wrecked Eliza. That, coupled with the night of fitful sleep in her childhood bed—where her brain insisted on replaying her father’s drugged comments—only left her with the energy to toss the condoms into her purse. She dumped the empty donkey carcass into the garbage and started a pot of coffee.

  As soon as she’d inhaled enough caffeine to power her through, she’d drive back to her apartment, shower, and head to the hospital again. If she had time, she could stop by Tina Temp’s Temp Agency. They’d hooked Eliza up with a few jobs over the years, despite her proclivity for getting fired. It helped that Tina Temp was a Descendant herself, more or less. As a Wingless—the completely normal child of two Cupids—she could relate to Eliza’s perpetual state of failed expectations.

  “The Clausen file needs to be closed today.” Her mother’s voice broke into Eliza’s thoughts. “Not tomorrow, today.”

  “I know, Mom,” Elijah said.

  Their voices and footsteps carried up the back stairwell before they made it into the kitchen. Eliza stopped short. The house had been so quiet all morning that she’d assumed her mom and brother were still asleep. But no, apparently, they’d gotten up and headed straight to the Herman & Herman office—a rectangular add-on accessible from the back of her parents’ house.

  “Eliza, you’re up,” her mother said.

  Eliza poured herself some coffee and reached for another mug. “Coffee?”

  “I had some at the office.” Her mother and brother stood stiffly in the doorway, like vrykolakas waiting to be invited in.

  “What’s going on?” Eliza finally asked.

  “Nothing,” Elijah said. Way too quickly.

  “We’re just—” their mother began.

  “It’s nothing, Liza. Don’t worry about it.” Elijah nodded toward the coffee and sat down at the table. He looked as rough and worn down as Eliza felt. “I’ll take some.”

  She pulled down a mug and weighed her options. It was definitely something. The question was, Did she want to know? After all, chances were the something involved their mother being controlling and uptight about Herman & Herman. The usual.

  Eliza set the coffeepot in front of her brother, then pulled the manila envelope from the counter and held it out to her mother, who’d stepped tentatively into the kitchen behind Elijah. “I almost forgot. Ja
ke Sanders came by here last night. He left this for you.” She turned to Elijah. “Did you know he was back? I—”

  She must’ve become invisible. That was the only explanation for why her mother and brother were staring at each other with matching expressions of horror, as if Eliza had ceased to exist. She waved her hand in front of them. “Hello?”

  “This is it, isn’t it?” her mother said, grabbing the envelope. “I knew it. I should have never let the two of you talk me into your harebrained scheme.”

  “It was a good idea, Mom.” Elijah put his palm down on the table. “You know it, and Dad knew it. It would have taken off too, if the Department hadn’t decided to interfere.”

  “I knew it was a mistake,” their mother whispered.

  “The mistake is that you refused to modernize, Mom. I’m a partner in Herman & Herman now too. I get a say, and you have to accept that.” A muscle in Elijah’s jaw ticked.

  Uh-oh. It took a lot to make Elijah angry, and whatever was in this envelope had done it. Eliza leaned away, half expecting the thing to start ticking.

  “Well, I don’t think you should go,” her mother said. “Not with your father in the hospital. There’s too much to do here now. Ask if we can get a refund on the registration. We can’t afford to absorb that. Not after this.” She pointed to the envelope with a shaky finger.

  “They aren’t going to refund the registration,” Elijah said. “And I’m not going to cancel.”

  Eliza watched their game of conversational Ping-Pong with wide eyes. Registration? Refunds? Ominous, unopened envelopes? “Guys,” she said. “Does someone want to fill me in?”

  They turned to her with equal expressions of confusion and embarrassment. So she hadn’t become invisible after all. They’d simply forgotten that she was there.

  “It’s nothing. Just work.” Her mother turned away and began shoving dishes into the dishwasher—including Eliza’s mug, still full of coffee. “I’m headed to the hospital. I’ll text you both after I talk to your father’s doctor.” Then she gave Elijah a look—one Eliza immediately recognized as Keep your mouth shut—and headed out the way she’d come.

  “What in the Underworld is wrong with her?” Eliza asked as she dug her coffee cup out of the dishwasher. “I don’t know how you can work with her every day. You’re definitely the good twin.”

  She expected a chuckle from him, or at least for his fists to unclench. Their good twin/evil twin schtick had been their way of diffusing tension for more than twenty years, and it had never failed.

  Until today.

  “Not everything is a joke, Eliza.” Elijah pressed his thumbs into his brows.

  “Hey.” She slid into the seat beside him. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like this envelope has a death warrant in it?”

  Her joke—probably in poor taste, since the Cosmic Council had, in fact, tried to issue death warrants for Cupids fifty years ago when the first of them went public—fell flat. Really flat.

  Elijah shoved the envelope toward her. “See for yourself.”

  Eliza unfastened the metal clip and plucked a single sheet of thick paper from the envelope.

  California Department of Affection, Seduction, and Shellfish

  Pursuant to § 07.05 of the Code of Cupid Regulations, please be advised of the following:

  Notice of Deficiency

  We have determined there is a deficiency (increase) in the amount owed by Herman & Herman for dues, expenses, and licensing fees. This notice explains how the increase was calculated. You have a right to challenge our determination, including penalties…

  Eliza’s eyes glazed at the legalese, but she forced them farther down the page. “You guys owe the state thirteen thousand dollars?” Her chest tightened, forcing all the oxygen from her lungs. “And Mom’s license is being frozen? She can’t take on new clients? Why? How? She’s always been obsessed with paying everything on time.”

  Her brother stared at his hands. “It’s my fault. I talked them into trying some new things. Online matching databases and stuff. I didn’t realize it would increase our licensing and registration fees until it was too late. Not to mention the increase in our malpractice insurance. And since Mom’s the president of the company, she’s the one they’re after. Until we get it paid, all she can do is close out her existing caseload.”

  “Wow.” Eliza slid the paper back into the envelope.

  “Yeah. But we had to do something. Eliza…” He finally looked up at her, and Eliza realized the fatigue in his features wasn’t from one sleepless night. “Business is down. Way down. No one wants to come into an office and look at flip-books anymore. No one wants to sit through Mom and Dad’s thirty-minute explanation of the pros and cons of each kind of enchantment. They want to do everything from their phones and laptops. Vic Van Love has a new matching service where you just swipe photos, and it’s killing us. We haven’t brought in any new business in months. Just our regulars.”

  “Shit.” The obscenity captured only the smallest fraction of the emotions swirling like a monsoon inside her. But there was no single word that could describe the level of shock, fear, and sadness she felt at her brother’s confession.

  “Yeah. And I got invited to this conference in Athens. Enchantments of the Modern Age. It’s all about bringing the latest technology to your Cupid business. Only one Erosian in each state gets invited each year, and this year it’s me. Or it was me.” He sighed. “I thought this was going to be it, you know? The thing I’d been working so hard for since we were kids—making Herman & Herman my own.”

  She nodded. Once upon a time, she’d had the same dream. Of course, once she’d realized that her enchantment levels hovered somewhere between insane and epic disaster, she’d given up. Her poor brother—with his brilliant ideas and perfectly normal levels of enchantment—had held on for dear life. “Is that what Mom was talking about? She doesn’t want you to go?”

  “Dad’s out of commission, and she can’t even discuss our services with potential clients. Of course she doesn’t want me to go.”

  Somewhere in the recesses of Eliza’s brain, a light bulb went off. “What about Jake Sanders? He said he’s doing odd jobs—”

  “We can’t afford to pay anyone, Eliza. I haven’t been paid in months. I’ve been taking shifts at Dionysus to cover my rent.”

  “Oh.” Eliza wrapped her palms around the coffee mug and tried to draw some comfort from the warmth—an old trick her father had taught her. But this time it didn’t even begin to dull the panic raging inside her. Herman & Herman had been a part of her life forever, and she’d assumed it would be around long after she’d crossed the River Styx.

  The dollar-shaped puzzle pieces began to click into place. “That’s why they sold the lake house, isn’t it?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Elijah—”

  “Look, I appreciate that you’re worried and everything, but you’ve made it pretty clear that you aren’t interested in helping out around here.” He rubbed his index finger over the double E’s etched into the edge of the table. They’d carved them with an old steak knife more than twenty years ago and gotten into so much trouble that day. But they’d gone up to their rooms with grins on their faces, because no matter what the punishment, their initials would be there forever. Back then, they didn’t realize how fleeting forever could be.

  But now Eliza did, and she would give anything to hang on to it for a little longer. “What can I do?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “What can I do? What if I stay here and answer the phones or whatever? No one has to pay me. Can you still go to the conference then?”

  “You don’t have a license, Eliza. The last thing we need is to add a penalty to the amount we owe the Department.”

  She
let out a wry laugh. “Last time I checked, you don’t need a license to answer the phone. Plus, I don’t think I could forget the old Herman & Herman enchantments spiel if I tried. We reschedule Dad’s appointments and set up any new ones for when you’re back. Mom can work on whatever she has scheduled between now and then. Then we buckle down until you come home with your newfangled technology and save the business. Easy, right?” She gave him a playful nudge, expecting a small smile at least.

  All she got was a frown. “They changed the regs last year after someone in Los Angeles got in trouble for falsifying enchantments. Now anyone who works in a Cupid firm has to have at least a provisional license.”

  “Oh.” Eleven years ago, after a particularly traumatizing day, she’d stopped just short of getting a full license. Her provisional license—the Cupid version of a driver’s permit—had expired not long after.

  “Exactly.” Elijah pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling. “I guess I need to cancel my flight before I get charged.”

  She’d never bought into that whole one-twin-feels-the-other’s-pain thing. But today, seeing her usually happy-go-lucky brother hurting so badly, she was beginning to rethink her stance. And that was making her rethink her stance on a lot of things, apparently.

  “I’ll do it,” she blurted out. “I’ll go down to the Department and reapply for my provisional license this afternoon. It was never the written test that gave me problems anyway.”

  Elijah laid his phone on the table. “Are you serious?”

  Was she? She pictured herself walking into the Department, and a tidal wave of panic pushed her under. But then she remembered her father’s words from last night, the hurt in her brother’s eyes, and the fear in her mother’s tight-lipped smile. She met Elijah’s gaze.

  “I am.”

  Chapter 4

  Calif. CCR § 403.03. Any person who chases, pursues, takes, transports, ships, buys, sells, possesses, or uses affection in any commercial manner must first obtain the prescribed license unless specifically exempted under § 69.