Stupid Cupid Read online

  He didn’t hear Phyllis until she cleared her throat. Starting, he looked up from his computer.

  “How’s it going?”

  “It would go a lot faster if I had an assistant. I’ve got two major campaigns to pitch.”

  “What do you want exactly?

  “Just someone who wants to work. Efficient, quiet, gets the job done. Has some familiarity with the process of making ads.”

  She ran a hand through her short hair. “I may have a short-term solution. How about Leena?”

  “Who’s—. Oh, the office assistant?”

  “She’s sharp and all those other things. Try it out,” she interjected before he could speak.

  “A few weeks. She needs something full-time and would have left us if she didn’t find it here. I don’t know what her circumstances are, but I think she needs the money.”

  “Look, I don’t want any baggage.”

  “Vince, just because she needs the salary doesn’t mean she’ll bring her baggage to you. If she even has any. Just try it.”

  It might be better than his current situation. “Okay. I’ll try it but I’m making no promises.”

  “Great. She gets off at five. I’ll tell her to stop by.”

  He nodded, got himself a soda from the little fridge under his desk and went back to work, trying to find his rhythm again. A few minutes or hours later—he never knew when he was buried in idea development—he heard a knock on the door.

  That woman, the assistant, stood there. He couldn’t remember her name but she looked so vulnerable that he stood to welcome her.

  “Hi. I hear we’re working together.”

  She nodded.

  “Come in,” he continued when she hovered at the door.

  She stepped toward his desk. “We haven’t been introduced. Leena Mackay.”

  “Vince Anderson.” He wondered why she seemed so unsure. Then he remembered his reputation since he’d started working here. “Glad to have you to help me out.” He sat back in his chair. “We can get started on Monday morning. I’m usually in before eight, but if you can’t get in by eight?”

  “Oh yes, of course I can. Thanks. And sorry about this afternoon.”

  “Forget it. No harm done.” She stood by the corner of his desk, clutching an enormous shoulder bag. “Well, see you Monday then?”

  “Oh, sure. Thanks again.” She swung on her heel and he watched in horror as her bag caught his open soda can, knocking it over, spewing the contents across his desk.

  Two

  Leena marched into the ramshackle, old three-story house, slamming the door behind her. The cats, lying on the tiles in front of the fireplace, jumped up, squealing.

  “Sorry guys. Didn’t mean to startle you. Caaarly!”

  She ran up the stairs as she yelled for her sister. “Carly, you come out here this minute. What the hell have you been doing?”

  She burst into her sister’s room without knocking, something she would never normally do. “Carly!” Today qualified as a grand exception.

  Her sister’s room looked like a storm had recently passed through. Books everywhere. Of course being a teenager she also had the requisite clothes on the floor.

  “What?” asked Carly mildly.

  Uh-oh. It wasn’t a good sign when Carly went all meek.

  “I want to know what you did last night.”

  “Slept?”

  She failed to see the humor. “Carly, I’m warning you. I’m at the end of my rope here. Did you or did you not cast some sort of spell that went wrong?”

  “Aw, man. It didn’t work?”

  She sat on the bed almost too angry to speak. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she told herself to calm down. Or Carly would go into her stubborn mode and nothing would get accomplished. She expelled the air out through her mouth, slowly.

  “Since I don’t know what you were trying to accomplish, I can’t say if it didn’t work or not. Just tell me what you did. Please?” she pleaded.

  Carly hefted herself against the headboard, eyeing her warily. Leena laid a hand on her sister’s jean-clad ankle. “Just tell me, sweetie.”

  “Well, there was this spell.”

  Didn’t it always start this way?

  “What kind of spell?”

  “One that made a person’s natural tendencies come out strongly.”

  This was worse than she’d thought. “All their tendencies?”

  “Er … yes. I think so. Anyway, I just tried it out on Puff. He said it was okay.”

  Carly had an uncanny knack of communicating with animals. Maybe the damn cat had really said it was okay.

  “Honey, except I don’t think it worked on him.”

  “Then why are you so mad?”

  “Because, I’m pretty sure it worked on me!”

  “Oh, man! I’m sorry, Leena. What happened?”

  Leena gave her sister a pared down version of the day’s events, starting with knocking the car’s alignment off by hitting the pavement and the final event—spilling soda all over her new boss’ desk.

  Carly expressed contrition but she didn’t know how to undo it. She did promise to look through the book of spells before dinner.

  “Come down in about an hour. It won’t be much—pasta.”

  Leena walked downstairs and into the kitchen where the cats were already sitting expectantly by their bowls. She set some water to boil, fed the animals, and threw some penne pasta into the pot. After heating up some left over marinara sauce, she rummaged about and found some salad fixings. This may be the last time they had fresh vegetables for a while.

  Any way she looked at it they were in deep trouble. Her jewelry business was sporadic. Maybe she would do better if she had more time to attend craft fairs and do more promotion. But with her two jobs, she couldn’t afford the time. She needed the job to pay the mortgage and keep food on the table. But they’d managed until Mom had left for the commune. Without her mother’s added income, the money she’d put aside to rent a small store in Garrison Square to sell her jewelry was now all gone.

  Last week, after much soul searching, she came to the conclusion that she had to get a full time job with health insurance. What if something happened to Carly? Or to her? Phyllis was a godsend, offering her the full-time position at the firm. Although she wasn’t so sure about her new boss. She wondered what he thought of her. Any redemption she made for spilling coffee on him by catching the omission in the ad shot got lost in the soda episode.

  She wasn’t that klutzy. It had to be Carly’s spell that made her slight clumsiness exacerbate. Wondering what else it would enhance, she groaned and checked the pasta before collapsing on a chair.

  Maybe someone would rent their apartment soon. The last person to come by—actually two young college students—hadn’t worked out. They looked a little wild and she had a sixteen-year-old sister in the house to watch out for. So she told them she would check out their application but there were a few people ahead of them.

  Was it a good idea to rent out a portion of their three-story house? She hashed it out with herself, just as she had with her neighbor, Gina. What other choice did she have? It would give them the extra income they so desperately needed.

  She called to Carly to come down for dinner. Over their meal she confirmed, as expected, Carly didn’t know how to reverse the spell. And, it would take about a week to wear off. She only hoped she still had her job by the time it did.

  Vince strode down the driveway of his new house, pausing to take in the neighborhood. Still a little work to be done here. But for the most part, the old three-story, walk-up town homes were all rehabbed. Judging by the For Sale signs, the rest would catch up soon. He liked the quiet tree-lined street the minute he drove through. Two blocks of a quiet oasis in a city teeming with people and life.

  Maybe he would check out the other homes before he went back to work. Settling his sunglasses on his face, he strolled down the street, taking in the bay windows and tiny gardens. Halfway down the block
, he frowned at the ramshackle house on his right. Dingy brick and a sagging roof over the porch. They better get that fixed before winter. The garden however, was a riot of fall colors. A tree with dark red leaves leaned charmingly over a corner of the porch. In his mind’s eye, he saw the place, spruced up, a fresh coat of paint over the front door, the railings replaced.

  He stopped and stared at the For Rent sign. Should he? After all, he was on a month-to-month lease at his current Lakeshore condo. If he could rent this place for a few months, he could supervise the rehab on his house. He memorized the number and turned back toward his car. He would call them first and see what the situation was. From the car, he called the number and spoke to a young lady—sounded like a teenager. She made arrangements with him to come by at three that afternoon. And she seemed to think that a six month lease would work.

  At five to three he rang the bell as he glanced around the yard. The house was still sturdy. Structurally, it didn’t need much work. Mostly cosmetic it seemed. No one answered and after a couple more rings he decided to walk around to the back. He heard the door open and swung back. No it couldn’t be! Fate wouldn’t be quite such a jokester.

  Leena stared in dismay at Vince. What was he doing here? For one wild moment she thought her sister had done something again. Then she realized Carly didn’t know Vince.

  “Mr. Anderson? What are you doing here?”

  He seemed to have difficulty speaking. “Er … that was my question, too. Please don’t tell me you live here?”

  “Yes, I do. But why is that a problem? Oh my God! Have you come about the rental? Oh no!”

  Life wasn’t getting any better. When Carly had said a potential renter was coming by, she hadn’t bothered to ask his name. Dammit!

  “I have.”

  “But why?” she wailed. “I’m sure you have a fancy place somewhere expensive.”

  He chuckled. “I do have a place. I don’t know how fancy it is. May I come in?”

  “Oh, sure.” Feeling like she was letting in her doom, she stepped back and gestured for him to follow her. Why had she worn her oldest jeans and this old top today? Well, not because she expected her handsome boss—the one she spilled things on—to show up.

  At least the house was neat, if old and worn. Waving him to a chair she sat, conscious of her torn jeans and stomach-baring little top. He, on the other hand, looked like he stepped out of the pages of GQ, in his khakis and green T-shirt. The color reflected in his eyes, making them brighter, more intense.

  “Well. I’m not sure what to say.”

  He seemed amused. His mouth quirked up at one corner. “You could tell me about this apartment you’re renting out. It is an apartment, correct?”

  “It is. Well, of sorts. Two rooms and an attached bathroom. You would have to share the kitchen with us. I’m sure this wasn’t what you were expecting. I’m sorry, Carly should have told you over the phone. My sister,” she added. “That’s who you spoke to.”

  “Wait a second, not so fast. I would like to see the rooms. Not having a kitchen wouldn’t really bother me. I would just need to store some breakfast things, that’s all. I eat out most of the time.”

  “Really?” When was the last time she had a meal outside? That wasn’t fast food anyway. “I have to warn you, I have a sixteen-year-old sister, too. And she’s a typical teenager.” Why did she feel so compelled to warn him off?

  “I was a teenager once.” He shrugged and his engaging grin pulled a reluctant smile from her.

  Sure, but had he been a witch-teenager from hell? She didn’t think so. If he got wind of any weirdness about her, it could signify the end of her new job. Not something she should chance when they needed the extra money. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, she made a snap decision.

  “Okay then. Let me show you around.”

  She pushed Puff away from the door where he sprawled and led him into the hall and around the stairs. “I have to warn you, my sister is currently using one of the rooms as her study. I’ll fumigate … er … clean it before you come of course.” Better watch her tongue. Who knew what kind of sense of humor he had.

  “Of course.” The laugh in his voice told her he appreciated the joke.

  She led him into the small apartment-like section of the house. It even had a separate entrance but she’d have to fix the second step leading up to the door and clear away the weeds. Thank the gods that no witch paraphernalia lay around, just piles of books. She stepped to one side and let him inspect the rooms, even as she eyed the visible titles to make sure they didn’t say something like how to send a warlock to Uranus. The apartment was pleasant enough and had often served as the base for their mother’s long term visitors.

  Leena tried to see it through his eyes. Bamboo shades covered the two large windows, one in either room. In the bedroom, a wrought iron queen sized bed dominated one corner while a rustic white dresser and matching bedside table took up the center wall. No closet but the large wardrobe with doors should suffice. The second room was smaller but included a wicker sofa and loveseat, a small TV and a bookshelf. Clean, but very basic.

  He poked his head into the bathroom, then backed out to the second room where she waited. “If the price is still what your sister said, I’ll take it.”

  Torn between elation and trepidation, she hesitated for a second or so. Was this wise? But she really didn’t have time to weigh pros and cons anymore.

  “The rent’s the same. But can you tell me why you want to rent here?”

  “I own a house down the road. Bought it about two months ago. But the workmen are there. Some renovations still need to be done. So this way, I can live in the neighborhood and be close by to check on things.”

  Reasonable explanation. “Which house did you buy?”

  “Seven fourteen.”

  “The lovely place with the green door.” Probably the color her face was—with envy. “When do you want the place?”

  “By next weekend would be great. If that’s okay with you?”

  She sighed. No it really wasn’t, but what was a gal with such debt to do?

  “That’s fine.”

  “So how about the lease? Should we go over it now or do you want to give it to me at work?”

  The lease? Oh heavens, she hadn’t even thought about that!

  “How about I bring it in on Monday?”

  And just like that she heard the doors clanging shut behind her; the click of the lock, and she knew there was no turning back. With a mental roll of her eyes at her doomsday prophecies, she gestured to him to lead the way out. Then, she wished she hadn’t. This man had a backside view that would make a nun take notice.

  “The kitchen’s that way.” She waved him to the left and tried not to eye that excellent behind. What was the matter with her? Must be hormonal. She refused to entertain the thought that Carly’s spell was bringing out latent sexual needs. “This is it. Feel free to use the fridge, the stove, anything you want really. We try to each do our own dishes.” She hesitated, then rushed in. “Carly and I try to have dinner together most nights. About seven. You’re welcome to join us if you like.” With his rent they would be eating a little better and she couldn’t very well be having dinner when he was in the kitchen.

  “Thanks. That’s very generous of you. But I’m usually at business dinners and such. I might just stock up on breakfast things.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say to him. And she had work to do. She started on a new line of jewelry today that she was hoping to market for Christmas. Besides, he looked too good and her hormones were wondering what it felt like to touch him.

  “Great. I’ll see you at work then, bright and early. And no more spills, I hope.”

  She winced. “Sorry again. That was—.”

  “A mistake, I know. I was just teasing you.”

  Vince rubbed the back of his neck. The tension always seemed to gather right there. And he was plenty tense. They were launching two new accounts and he was
going after the biggest account he’d had yet. He heard rumors that a well-known car manufacturer was not happy with their current advertising firm. He discussed it with Phyllis and they decided to go for it. It had taken calling in a lot of favors—he almost had no pink slips left with anyone—but they had a meeting with the car company two weeks out. Now he just had to get moved into Leena’s little apartment, then he could concentrate on their presentation.

  They decided to throw everything they had at the company. Three teams were working simultaneously to develop separate themes for the new branding. It was a gamble but he wanted to showcase the talent in the company.

  He glanced at his watch—Eric was late. Dammit. He pressed speed dial on his cell phone.

  “Hey, where are you?”

  “Just leaving the house?” Eric sounded completely unrepentant for someone who was an hour late.

  “Dammit, Eric!”

  “What? You on some deadline to move? I thought we had the day.”

  They did. But Eric said he’d be there at ten and—he had to lighten up. Taking a deep breath, he said. “No deadline. But you did say ten.”

  “Oh hell, you should know that means eleven by now.”

  He should. How he stayed friends with Eric, as different as they were, was a mystery to everyone, including them.

  “Just get here soon okay?”

  They were going to unload some of his antique pieces at his new house and lock them in an upstairs room. And he needed Eric’s truck for that.

  Three hours later, Vince wiped his brow. This was it. All the furniture he wanted from his old place was upstairs in the house being refurbished. His clothes and computer and stuff were all in the apartment. Standing on the wood step by the outside entrance to his little place, he waved Eric off. The stair looked newly repaired but not too sturdy. He might have to take a hammer and a few more nails to it.

  Wondering where his landlady was, he locked up and drove to the grocery store. Better get everything he needed, then settle down to work. Leena gave him the lease—one that looked suspiciously like one of those free ones you downloaded off the internet—last week. He signed for six months and she looked surprised. Maybe she wanted a year’s commitment but he hated going into something for that long without really testing out the situation.