Counterfeit Cupid (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Cupid #2)(19)

I held my face still, so he wouldn’t see me react. It wasn’t easy. Holy cow. It was one thing to don the wings and be invisible for awhile. That was crazy enough. But to hear the gods were real and they ran an employment agency? My face was about to snap like a rubber band from trying so hard to keep it from moving. “You know you sound crazy, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. I am aware. But I’m also aware that you believe me. And I have to fix the bad matches you’ve made and get you and my equipment back to headquarters within forty-eight hours, or we’re both in a lot of trouble.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise before I could stop them. “Me? I’m supposed to go with you?”

He held up his hands. “It’s not what it sounds like. You’ll be fine. I won’t let them wipe your mind or anything.” He stopped, his face pale. “I mean, you’ll be fine. They just want to talk to you. See if you have god blood in you.”

“Wait…what?” I frowned, and my fingers tightened on the doorknob. “Let me see if I understand what you’re saying. You think you work for Greek gods and that I stole your magical office supplies. You—a guy I’ve only seen a few times at work—have stalked me to my sister’s house, made crazy accusations, and are demanding that I get in the car with you to go meet with people who may or may not attempt to take some of my blood and wipe my memory. Is that right?”

“Well, no. Yes. I mean…” He groaned. “You are the most difficult woman.” He pressed his hands together as if in prayer. “Look. Forget about coming in with me. Just give me back my stuff, and we’ll forget anything happened. Please?”

I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t trust this guy for a single second. The minute I confessed, he’d drag me to this god agency of his. “I told you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I slammed the door in his face.

“Annie, who was at the door?” My sister’s voice drifted through the house along with the sound of running water from the kitchen sink.

“Nobody. Just a guy from a local church.” I leaned against the door and concentrated on controlling my breathing and slowing my heart rate. Any second, he’d probably knock on the door again, and I wouldn’t be able to hide the situation from my sister.

What did he mean, I’d made bad matches? And what would happen to me if I went with him to this Mt. Olympus place and talked to his boss? Would they give me a job? Would they arrest me? I really didn’t like the sound of having my memory wiped.

I spun around and peered through the peephole. To my surprise, Josh had turned his back and was walking away. A sigh of relief blew out of me, unbidden, and I made up my mind about what to do.

Josh had said he had forty-eight hours. I would take twenty-four to finish the work I wanted to do with the equipment—and I’d even double-check the matches I’d made to make sure they were working out. Then I’d drop his stuff off in his room anonymously. He’d never be able to prove it had been me, no matter what his boss had said.

Let Josh stew a little. It served him right. He had a fantastic job and he took it for granted.

I smiled. For the next twenty-four hours, all of downtown Dallas was going to think it was Valentine’s Day.

*

Okay. So maybe not all of downtown Dallas. I learned quickly that I’d have to limit my territory to match my physical limitations.

My intention was to end up at the firehouse where Richard worked, but it would be a little while before he was supposed to be there, so I worked in the surrounding area while I waited.

I started across the street at a coffee shop with an outdoor area. A woman in her early twenties sat with her laptop open, sipping a latte and reading something on the screen. A guy around the same age came out and wiped the tables around her, looking at her from the corner of his eye every chance he had. She glanced up, and he gave her a goofy smile. She gave him a vague smile in return, then went back to reading her screen.

His look of disappointment was the call to action I was waiting for.

I aimed my blowgun at her and puffed a dart straight at her. She jumped and rubbed her arm without looking up. I blew again and hit the barista in the side.

After a count of ten, the woman looked up again. Her smile this time was genuine, and she touched her auburn hair, twisting it around her finger. I stood on the sidewalk watching until they handed their phones to each other to exchange numbers. Satisfied, I moved down the street to see where else love waited for my help.

At the hardware store, I darted the bald guy behind the counter and the angry redhead trying to return a gallon of cornflower blue latex paint. When a young guy came out from the stockroom and bumped into a woman around the same age who was scrutinizing paint chips, I darted them both. Both couples were well on their way to eternal happiness by the time I left.

When I left the hardware store, I thought I saw Josh disappear into a music store. I frowned and crossed the street to see if it was him. I blinked in the bright overhead lights. The store was practically empty. Rows and rows of tables held boxes of old vinyl records, and musical instruments lined one wall. I didn’t see anyone in there but a guy at the cash register wearing black-rimmed glasses, a tiny beard on his chin, and jeans so skinny I thought he might be starring in Swan Lake later that afternoon.

Josh was nowhere I could see, and I didn’t see any potential matches. I backed out of the store and crossed the street to the pet store.