“It’s no use. All these years and now… Tell me, you’re his friend. Why has Cupid done this, failed to shoot my arrows?”
“I don’t know Venus. Maybe he lost track of the calendar?”
Venus looked at her ring and shook her head. “No. Ever since he was a small boy he’s known the significance of March twentieth. He’s always had a sixth sense about its approach. There’s no way he would forget after thousands of years. He must’ve decided to join his father in the underworld. I always knew Mercury would win.”
Venus removed the ring from her finger and flung it across the pale Oriental rug.
“I’ve gotta go Venus.” Inuus leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
“In the meantime, why don’t you think about whether there’s a way I can help you out of this mess.” Venus kissed Inuus’s thick hand.
****
As soon as Cupid finished his copy of the Norton Simon painting, he decided he had to see Amelia. She was all he’d been able to think about. Everything reminded him of the petite matchmaker; he even found it difficult to concentrate as he drew, since every line he sketched him think of the curve of her eyebrows, the right angles of her hemline, even the slightly square shape of her jaw. He knew he had to have her, had to apologize and somehow win her over. He had completely forgotten about everything else. He headed toward her shop front.
Happily Ever After By Amelia was shuttered when he pulled up half an hour later. He caressed the sleek black motorcycle that reminded him of his favorite stallion, the one he used whenever he was racing his chariot in Rome. Unlike the palm reader across the street, whose shop window had featured a hand affixed to the glass holding a sign spelling out the word “closed” in chartreuse letters, Amelia had gave no indication why no one was present. Cupid became slightly alarmed, since he knew from Venus that Happily Ever After By Amelia seemed to be open all the time. Quickly he rode over to Amelia’s house.
The tidy bungalow was closed up as well, its curtains drawn and windows down. Even more worrying was the fact that the little brown and white dog he had heard bark each time he’d come by was clearly gone. For an instant, Cupid considered knocking on the doors of Amelia’s neighbors, but then he remembered something Inuus had said about no one in L.A. knowing who lived next to them. So he went home, where he found his mother curled in a ball on her large canopied bed, her heavy velvet curtains and blackout shades drawn, weeping into a giant ecru linen handkerchief with a gold “V” embroidered at its hem.
“Mom?”
Venus sat up. Cupid was startled. She looked, well, she looked mortal. Heavy lines cutting into the delicate skin under her eyes and red splotches all over the face many had claimed rivaled Cleopatra’s for its beauty. She wiped her cheeks, which looked to have somehow fallen into her face, and patted the satin duvet.
“Come sit with me.”
Cupid sat down and Venus stroked the blond curls on his forehead, the way she used to when he was a little boy.
“Why?” she whispered.
“Why what?”
“Did your father put you up to this? That man….”
Cupid spread out his hands.
“What are you talking about? I’ve barely spoken to Dad in the last five hundred years.”
“Look.”
Venus pressed a remote control, which opened the curtains and the blackout shade.
“Yeah it’s a great view.”
“I mean look at how barren it is. Since you failed to shoot your arrows spring will not come.”
Cupid winced.
“Oh Mom, I’m sorry! I got so caught up in something I’m working on I lost sight of the time. I’ll get out there at sunrise tomorrow, I promise you, and fix this.”
Venus shook her head.
“It’s too late.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can still do it. The calendar’s just some Gregorian invention. We don’t need to be beholden to it. Come on, there’s no law that says animal babies have to coincide exactly with the vernal equinox.”
Venus shook her head sadly.
“If I can’t control the reproductive season, I have no place. I’m nothing.”
“I’m gonna fix this. It’s all my fault. I’m going to make this right.”
Cupid kissed Venus on the forehead.
“Now get some sleep. I’m going to have Fleur bring up some ratatouille and a quiche.”
****
“You’ve got to help me,” Cupid said to Inuus, who was sitting in the living room when he arrived downstairs.
Inuus waved his hand. He was too winded to speak, having run down to the first floor from Cupid’s suite of rooms after his vain search for a magical arrow.
“My mother… I didn’t shoot any arrows.”
“I heard.”
“I need you to shoot some arrows, make some matches ‘cause I can’t travel all the way around the world in one day. I’m not Santa Claus.”
Inuus laughed.
“Seriously. It’s not going to take me one day, it always takes several. You know I can’t do it myself in such a short amount of time.”
Inuus narrowed his eyes.
“If I do this for you, you’ve got to tell Venus.”
Cupid looked away. He knew his mother would never forgive him if she found out he’d let someone else handle his arrows. Still he hated to misrepresent the situation to his best friend. He closed his eyes. He loathed the idea of lying. However he hated the idea of making his mother feel she’d been betrayed even more.
He thought for a moment, willing himself to come up with a solution. He smiled slightly. He’d tell Venus that he thought Inuus deserved a new job with more responsibility. Surely she’d listen to him after he completed this task. Out of gratitude for Cupid rectifying the arrow error, she would be happy to do whatever he wanted, so she’d offer Inuus a new position. Inuus would assume it was out of gratitude for the job he’d done with Cupid’s arrows. Everyone would be happy. Cupid opened his eyes and nodded at Inuus.
Inuus raised his eyebrows, and for a moment Cupid feared his friend knew he’d never tell Venus he’d allowed someone else to help him with the mating season. But of course that was absurd; Inuus could be counted on to help, he’d always been a loyal friend.
“I’ll do it,” Inuus said coldly.
“But I want to take L.A. I’d like to see my work every time I look out these windows.”
“Whatever you want.”
Cupid reached into his quiver and withdrew an arrow. With a snap of his fingers he turned it into one thousand golden arrows, which he then handed to Inuus, who tipped an imaginary cap at him then left through the French doors.
Cupid sighed. He wanted to look for Amelia, but he knew that if he didn’t spend the next several days shooting his arrows then the natural order would be irreparably damaged. Not only would whole species disappear, but so would his mother’s chance to redeem herself from the humiliation she’d already felt when she discovered Amelia’s successful matchmaking. This time it would be entirely his fault if he failed to deliver the arrows. So he returned to Rome, loaded his quiver, and set about repopulating the animal kingdom and restoring his mother’s reputation.
****
Venus remained in her bed. Twice a day Fleur delivered trays of figs, pitchers of spring water drawn from lakes high atop the Swiss Alps, baskets of croissants, plates of fresh fruit and a variety of cheeses and lean meats to Venus’s door. Although she was depressed, skipping meals was one thing Venus could never abide; she always said it was because she was Roman. So, when she was not lying beneath her cream duvet, a pale pink silk eye mask across her face, listening to the self-help tapes she’d grown so fond of since moving to southern California, she helped herself to the delicacies at her door. She still refused to see anyone or leave her room.
****
The fact that Amelia’s shop had been shuttered for days didn’t mean Amelia had stopped working. Miles from West Hollywood, Amelia sat in a wrought iron chaise
lounge that belonged to Jennie’s mother, wrapped in a large towel, a wide-brimmed hat shading her face, and read e-mails. Far too many e-mails, in her opinion, demanding that the writer be fixed up with Colin Cumin. She also worked on the development of a more refined personality profile. Sometimes, though, her attention would wander and Colin’s face would appear before her. Once again she would feel that curious combination of attraction and annoyance she’d sensed when he’d taken her hand in his.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Stella asked.
“How’d you know?”
“You’ve got that dreamy look on your face you used to have whenever Daniel was around.”
Amelia looked across the pool at Stella and sighed. Her mother was sitting with her lacquered toes in the water, an orange and yellow string bikini wrapped around her tanned flesh.
“Why’d you have to mention him?”
“Y’all know it doesn’t hurt to talk about him,” Stella replied.
“Yeah, well I think it does.”
“All right. Let me spray some suntan lotion on your back.”
Stella covered Amelia’s white skin with a slathering of some of the sunscreen she’d found in the glove box of the Porsche.
“Let’s talk about what you’re gonna do about this Roman god.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve got to track him down and beg him to be a client.”
Stella shook her head.
“No no no! You’ve got to make him think he wants to come back and make you happy. You always want to have the upper hand with a man. Trust me. You’ve got to lay on the charm and flatter his ego.”
Stella looked at Petal, asleep in her basket in the shade.
“No beggin’. Leave that to Miss Petal.”
Amelia bit her lip. No doubt her mother was right. After all, Stella had managed to land four husbands and numerous lovers throughout her life, whereas she had yet to manage even one successful long-term relationship.
“Okay, tell me how it’s done.”
Chapter Eight
Although Justin hadn’t been homeless for very long, during the time he’d been living in the shelter, he had developed enough street sense to know that Amelia would be in danger as long as the man who’d offered him money to spy on her was around. Amelia was due back today from her trip to Palm Springs, and Justin had every intention of fulfilling the man’s request - he would watch over Amelia at all times. But he would also do whatever it took to get rid of the stranger.
He knew, by the way the man looked to his left as he spoke, that he’d been lying when he said he would be leaving the area soon. Justin hadn’t yet figured out why he was so interested in Amelia, but he didn’t think it was normal. The stranger certainly lacked the appearance of the Good Samaritan role in which he had cast himself.
Before the copyright infringement lawsuit had bankrupted him, Justin had worked with a number of Hollywood’s best make-up and special effects artists. Once he landed on the streets, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities between their methods and those of the psychics who lined the broad boulevards of Hollywood. He’d seen many actors and actresses slip in and out of their storefronts in search of a quick fix for their various addictions – many of the psychics ran brisk side businesses as hypnotists – and learned some of their skills while he swept up their shops and performed other menial labor.
Therefore he was relatively confident he could trick the man into believing whatever he wished if he used a combination of hypnosis and special effects. All he had to do was convince the man that he was a deity who had control of the area and forbid him from ever returning to the neighborhood. If he could do that, Justin was certain Amelia would be safe from him.
****
Jennie had decided to go in to work early so she could surprise Amelia by cleaning up the shop and sorting through all of the mail that had accumulated while Happily Ever After By Amelia had been closed. She was afraid that they’d left so hurriedly that they had forgotten to clear away any fresh food offerings, or dispose of any dead flowers. Since Amelia had always been a bit of a neat freak, Jennie knew she’d be thrilled to return to a clean workplace. Plus, it would give her another opportunity to show that she could be serious.
“I look ridiculous.”
Jennie laughed at her reflection as she prepared to leave for work.
“Amelia’s going to think I’m pretending we’re back in high school again wearing those matching Bette Davis dresses as a joke to the senior variety show.”
Jennie ran her long fingers through curls that were now the exact color of Amelia’s, thanks to a mishap with a bottle of home hair dye. Jennie should have known better. For years, her stylist had been warning her that any attempts to color her hair herself would result in something unexpected, since she had so many layers of highlights on her head. But Jennie had been bored during her tenure at home. Cleaning out her closets had led to clearing out her wardrobe then going through her cosmetics cupboard, where she’d found the box of hair color Amelia had left at her house six months ago. She’d been watching a makeover show on television and one thing led to another…. So here she was with her head full of auburn hair, crossing her fingers and hoping that her stylist would have an opening later this afternoon so she could have her blond hair restored.
Jennie bought half a dozen white roses, one of Amelia’s favorite flowers, at the flower shop near her house, and picked up copies of the “Los Angeles Times” and “Variety” on her way to work. She planned on scanning the pages with the intention of seeing if Colin Cumin was a film producer or agent. She was pretty certain this was the “financial business” he claimed to be in.
“Hey, Jen, saved you two glazed,” Miguel called out from the donut window as Jennie walked past.
“Thanks.” She laughed and reached up for the gooey paper Miguel was pushing through the opening.
As Jennie struggled to unlock the door she thought she saw Justin on the far side of the street, down a few blocks, coming out of Esmeralda’s Celtic Arts Emporium, although she was probably mistaken since the man she saw appeared to be wearing some sort of Regency waistcoat and knotted shirt. True, there was nothing unusual about seeing an outfit like that on the streets of Hollywood. But as far as Jennie knew, Justin never wore anything other than those worn jeans and that red and black jacket. Jennie looked down at the second doughnut – she knew she should offer it to Justin, but there was something she just didn’t like about the guy. Hopefully that wasn’t him and she would not see him all day.
Happily Ever After By Amelia was in a sorry state when Jennie finally got through the front door. The whole place smelled from three bouquets of daisies and carnations that had wilted. One of the light bulbs in the large Victorian lamp near the window had burnt out and somehow tripped a fuse, and several flies were buzzing around two hardened pies that sat atop the pine sideboard.
Quickly Jennie carried the flowers and food to the trash bin in the back alley and opened the windows. The morning air was cool, so Jennie crossed to the small armoire in the corner, withdrew Amelia’s white lace sweater, and wrapped it around her shoulders as she flipped the circuit breaker. When she was done she took a seat before the computer in the corner, facing the wall as she clutched her donut and a bottle of orange juice she’d grabbed from the little refrigerator in the back room.
****
Justin could see Inuus standing on the sidewalk in front of Happily Ever After By Amelia, wearing what appeared to be a bow and arrow on his back. He shook his head. Back where he came from men and a few women were known to carry shotguns in their trucks. But nobody, not even the trackers who led hunting expeditions, dared walk through town with a quiver, let alone arrows.
It was different out here, though. Perhaps because of people’s fantasy that a film could be shot on any one of these streets at any moment, common sense did not seem to apply. After all, Justin was wearing the Regency costume he had borrowed from Esmeralda in order to d
isguise himself from the man, on the off chance the other man would recognize him from their earlier encounter. No one had given him a second look.
Justin looked at the man’s arrows and shuddered at the thought of the harm that would come to anyone stricken with one of those pointy tips. The stranger was smiling to himself. He had stopped in front of Happily Ever After By Amelia, where Jennie sat with her back to the open window.
Justin saw the man’s fingers crawl toward the quiver. He hurried toward the man, who did not seem to notice him. Esmeralda, the Celtic psychic who was happy to loan him one of her ceremonial costumes after he’d explained his plan, had been right. The man didn’t recognize him in his Regency wear. Justin reached inside the deep waistcoat pocket and fondled the large emerald stone the psychic had given him, recalling her advice.
Matching Wits with Venus Page 6
