Counterfeit Cupid (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Cupid #2)(17)

My hands were sweaty, so I rubbed them on my jeans while I gathered my thoughts. “The thing is, I was having a really bad morning yesterday.”

She leaned back in her chair with her pen still tucked between her fingers. Her facial expression indicated she was, so far, not impressed. “Okay.”

“First, the wings got stuck on me, and the elastic snapped off one side.” I figured, I might as well lead with this to maybe get a little sympathy.

Her expression was unchanged. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”

“This made me angrier—no, not angry. Upset. It upset me even more, so I threw them into the backseat of the rental car and drove back to the hotel.”

One eyebrow went up. “And?”

“And I was still upset when I got there, so I sort of forgot to grab them out of the car.”

“Oh, Joshua.” She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “Tell me you didn’t lose them.”

I bent my head and stared at my hands. If there ever was a good time to be invisible, now would have been it. Too bad I didn’t have any wings. “They were stolen from my car.”

She let out a loud, disappointed sigh. “Joshua, what am I going to do with you?”

I lifted my head. “There’s more.”

“Of course there is.”

“She also stole my blowgun.” I held up one hand before she could berate me further. “That was in my room. I’m pretty sure I know who did it. She had a key.”

Ellen sat staring at my face for a good long time before her facial expression softened and she spoke. “You like her.”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.” I paused. “She does have beautiful eyes. And she’s sweet when she isn’t angry at me.” I scrubbed my face with my palms. “That has nothing to do with anything. She won’t admit she took my tools, and I can’t prove it was her. Hell, maybe it wasn’t.” I dropped my hands in my lap. “Ellen, I don’t know what to do.”

My tiny blonde manager leaned her five-foot frame toward me, looking every bit as intimidating as a mob boss. “You screwed up, Joshua. You did exactly what I told you not to do, and now you’re neck-deep in trouble. I’m not even sure I should help you. This is a mess of your own making.” She tapped a series of keys on the keyboard and studied her monitor. “Here’s the problem—a mortal has Mt. Olympus equipment when mortals aren’t supposed to know we exist. What’s worse is, she’s running all over town making matches at her own discretion with zero training or magically implanted instincts.”

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. “So what should I do?”

She scowled at the results on the screen. “In addition, she has better instincts than you do. Unfortunately, not all her decisions are the right ones, so you’ll have to undo some of what she’s done. In particular, there’s a widow and widower living across the hallway from each other who will kill each other if left with the match intact.”

“So, you know for sure it’s Annie doing it?”

“Oh, sure. It’s definitely her. But you’ll have to get the stuff from her willingly. She imprinted on it.”

I frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Equipment gets ‘borrowed’ from nearly all the departments here. Mostly, no harm comes of it, and the gods look the other way. But once in a great while, a person who has no affiliation with a department runs off with equipment that’s so well suited to them, it can’t be taken away.” She chuckled. “I used to know a girl who dated a guy who stole winged sneakers from the Messenger department. He had to leave his job in Human Resources after that. Now, he’s a manager in the parcel delivery section in Messenger.”

“So, you’re saying Annie should be working here?”

“I couldn’t say.” She shrugged. “She’ll have to be tested for divine DNA to determine her fate.”

I felt the blood leave my face. “What if she fails the test?”

“They’ll wipe her and relocate her, probably. I don’t know. Either way, you’ll have to bring her in. With the equipment.” She glared at me for emphasis, then pulled a tiny pink box from her drawer. “Take this.” She pushed it toward me.

I opened the box and found a small gold pin shaped like a pair of wings. They reminded me of the wings pilots used to give to little kids on airline flights. “What’s this for?”

“These are mine.” Her face was serious. “I’m trusting you not to take them off. I don’t care how you do it, you don’t even take them off in the shower. Got it?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“While you wear them, you can see folks who are invisible. They won’t know unless you react to them. Got it?”

“Sure.” I tried to hide my disappointment. I thought they’d do something more. “They won’t make me invisible, too?”

“Nope. And you tell no one about them for as long as you live. It’s how management monitors their staff. If people knew we could see them, it would ruin our ability to keep an eye on things.”

I pinned the wings to my shirt and peered around the room. No invisible people hid behind the potted plant. “Thank you, Ellen. I’ll straighten all this out. I promise.”