Matching Wits with Venus

by Therese Gilardi

  “You need only catch his eye with the flashes of light from this magic emerald and he’s yours,” she’d said. “But you’ll have to chant my special curse. Don’t you dare share it with anyone.”

  Justin had nodded, and Esmeralda grunted in return.

  “Once you’ve said it three times, he will believe that you’re a god. You just tell him what to do, and voila it’s done.”

  Justin had looked at the large woman and frowned.

  “No, no it’s true. How else do you think I keep the vice squad off my back?”

  Esmeralda had a point. Justin knew that she was selling far more than crystals and a few dusty costumes from her dingy storefront, yet she was the only merchant who never had any trouble with criminals or the police. Justin suspected there were even times Esmeralda left her shop unlocked for weeks at a time, when she was off on one of her “buying” trips in southeast Asia.

  “Excuse me, didn’t mean to knock into you there,” Justin said as he bumped into the man’s elbow, dislodging his grip on the quiver.

  The stranger grimaced. He threw his shoulders back and pivoted his body so he was in front Justin. The man raised his eyes and looked straight into the large emerald colored stone Esmeralda had given Justin. It was just like the ones the Celtic goddesses used on All Hallowed Eve. Justin wrapped his hand tightly around the crystal. As long as he used the curse properly he was confident it would work. He held the emerald firmly as the man stood, transfixed. Like a hypnotist charming an engaged audience, Justin began to chant.

  ****

  “I can’t believe I’ve got to grovel for Colin Cumin,” Amelia groaned half an hour later.

  “I’ll get his contact info. We’ve got a hard copy of his file, right?” Jennie responded.

  “Should be in the top left drawer of the armoire,” Amelia said as she walked toward the back room.

  “By the way, I’m flattered, but really, what’s with the hair?”

  “Accidental overdose of Miss Clairol.”

  “You know you make a pretty redhead.”

  Amelia returned, teacup in hand, and reached for Colin’s file. After two cups of her favorite herbal brew, Amelia knew she couldn’t put off calling Colin any longer. She frowned as she tapped his number into the pink princess phone atop her desk.

  A woman with a low voice answered on the third ring. Quickly Amelia slipped the phone back into its cradle and snapped her fingers. “Better get ready to send out a draft.”

  “What?”

  Amelia nodded her head.

  “He’s already part of a couple. That’s the strange vibe I was getting from him.”

  “Why? Did a woman with a sexy voice answer?”

  Amelia gave Jennie a pointed stare.

  “Yes. And it was his private number.”

  Jennie laughed.

  “Guess since I’m the one who usually make these calls, you wouldn’t know. There are days when I’m convinced that absolutely nobody in this town actually answers their own phone. If I had a nickel for every sexy answering service voice I’ve spoken with we could set up Happily Ever After By Amelia in every town in America. Seriously, don’t you realize that to a lot of people in L.A., especially those in the industry, nothing screams desperate more than not having their calls screened?”

  Amelia sucked in her breath and held up her hands.

  “Okay, okay. So I’m not going to get rid of him that easily.”

  ****

  Cupid was setting up his easel at the Getty Center when Levana handed him his cell phone. He’d asked her to answer his calls and run errands in an effort to distract her from the fact that there would no doubt be fewer infants for her to guard this year, thanks to Venus’s matchmaking problems and his errors. She handed him his cell phone. There was no one on the other end. “Who was it?”

  Levana shrugged.

  “They have something here in the upper world called the ‘star six nine’. Press the phone’s star key then six and nine and the phone will call whoever telephoned you.”

  Cupid pressed the code and held the phone to his ear.

  “Hello?” Amelia said softly into the receiver.

  “I believe you just called me?”

  “Is this Mr. Colin Cumin?”

  Cupid leaning forward and grinned.

  “And who might this be? Perhaps Ms. Coillard?”

  “I, er, yes. I was calling you to apologize. I was wrong to turn you away as a client. I was having a bad day, and I’m afraid I took it out on you.” Amelia paused a moment then resumed speaking.

  “I’ve been under so much pressure I even had to take a few days off, get away from my work. Although it’s never happened before, and it’ll never happen again I assure you.”

  “So you want me back?” He asked with a laugh.

  “Yes. I, Jennie and I would love to have you as a client.”

  “All right, I accept. What do I have to do to be reinstated as one of your clients?”

  “We need to finish your paperwork for one thing.”

  “I’m not free until this evening,” Cupid said smoothly.

  “All right. I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on since I’ve been gone. Would you like to come by around six, and we can finish everything? I can have you matched up by tomorrow, I’m sure.”

  “Six. Hmm, I was thinking more like seven.”

  “Well, I guess that will be all right.”

  Cupid grinned to himself.

  “Let’s meet at that Indian restaurant on Wilshire. You know the one I mean? We might as well eat while we talk, don’t you think?”

  “Fine.”

  She sounded impatient.

  “Please give me the directions, and I’ll meet you there.”

  Chapter Nine

  After Inuus met up with Justin, he hurried along the shady side of the avenues, hiding himself among the flowering trees that lined the stone wall that led to Venus’s villa. He looked over his shoulder as he walked, conscious of Justin’s thinly veiled warning that it was possible some harm would come to him if he were to be seen by anyone, including the gods.

  When he finally stole in to the villa, he made his way quickly to the elevator, which would take him straight to the underworld. He felt slightly dazed and confused; he wasn’t even sure what had just happened. He knew only that he had to go into hiding. He planned to pick up his daggers and sabers, then head out to Mongolia. Surely no one would look for him in the Himalayas. But first, he had to stop off at the shooting range and dispose of all these arrows he was carrying, though he couldn’t for the life of him recall why he had a full quiver since he didn’t even like archery.

  ****

  Satisfied that he’d frightened the strange man sufficiently, Justin headed back to Esmeralda’s psychic reading room to return the emerald and the Regency costume. As he walked past the pavement outside of Mann’s Chinese Theater, where tourists left small bouquets of flowers atop the handprints of their favorite celebrities’ stone slabs he was challenged to a duel by the man who’d been dressing up as a character from a popular pirate film for the past several years. Although he tried to laugh off the man’s invitation, the “pirate” had become so aggressive with his toy weapon that Justin felt enraged once more at the stranger insistence on carrying a bow and arrow in the city.

  He sighed. It was unlike him, this recent propensity to anger so quickly. Maybe it was a sign his mental state was disintegrating, and he was descending into paranoia, something he’d seen happen to several of the other men and women who roamed the streets of Hollywood. Before he’d been homeless, Justin had thought that the worst thing about living on the streets would be the lack of a bathroom and bed. But now he knew better – the loss of one’s mental faculties was the ultimate terror.

  “So it worked. I promised you it would,” Esmeralda said as she handed Justin back his worn black and red jacket. “The only thing is, I’m not sure how long the curse will last.”

  Justin looked up sharply and said,
“You’re kidding.”

  Esmeralda nodded.

  “There is an element of willingness that plays a role in all successful hypnosis. The subject must remain amenable to being held under a spell.”

  “Then there’s no telling how long he’ll stay away?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “Thanks anyway.”

  Justin kicked a cigarette butt from the street into the gutter as he exited the shop. He was disappointed that the man might one day return and annoyed his effort may have been for nothing. He figured the curse would last a while, though he couldn’t be certain. He’d have to suspend his plan to move back to the mid-west, into his sister’s basement. He’d spent the past week after watching bus after bus after bus discharge young and not so young men and women from all parts of the world in search of their celluloid lucky break. Watching them had made him realize it was time to give up his Hollywood fantasy. He would never be able to overcome his dire financial predicament and return to his days as a gainfully employed member of the entertainment industry.

  He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t seen the truth that day in the courthouse, when his wages had been garnished, his work contract nullified, and his bank account frozen. Perhaps he, too, had been unwilling to suspend his belief in the dream factory, he thought as he looked up into the Hollywood Hills. After all, for years he’d been imaging himself someday becoming the proprietor of a mansion like that ocher stucco palace in the distance.

  But none of that mattered anymore. Justin had decided he had to face the reality of his situation. He knew it was time to go; all he had to do was purchase souvenir t-shirts for his niece and nephew. He hoped they’d consider it a fair exchange for their couch, which would be his new home. Now that he’d made the decision to abandon Hollywood, he wanted to be on his way as soon as possible.

  However, he knew he had to wait until he could be certain Amelia was safe. He sighed as he walked down the boulevard. Not only would he have to remain in California longer than he wanted, but he’d be forced to interact with Jennie, who he could tell did not care for him.

  Justin looked around. Despite the smell of trees flowering, the presence of Easter decorations in some shop windows and the lengthening days it didn’t feel like springtime. He sat down on one of the wooden slatted benches on the edge of the sidewalk and listened. Nothing. Having grown up on a farm Justin knew that, even in the city, he should be hearing the sound of baby birds, or at least mating calls. But the only noise was the buzzing traffic.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said to himself. “The natural order has been upset.”

  ****

  Amelia spent the remainder of the morning updating her files and entering all of her clients’ profiles into the new computer database she’d created in Palm Springs. While it wasn’t quite perfect, it was yet another important step in her obsessive quest to remove all of the emotion from matchmaking. She sighed contentedly. She was always at her happiest when she felt like her life was smoothly under control. That’s why she loved to write sestinas, with their strict structure, and why always found her hair’s tendency to frizz so unacceptable. It wasn’t that the unruly ends, which even Amelia had to admit could look attractive at times, were that bad in and of themselves. Rather, her inability to tame her locks drove her crazy because it symbolized her inability to turn chaos into order, something she’d been trying to do ever since she was seven. That’s when Stella had walked out to live with a lover whose name Amelia could no longer remember.

  While Amelia worked, Jennie made call after call after call from the princess phone in the corner. She gestured with her hands as she talked, often leaning forward to emphasize a point as though the listener could see her. When she was done, she dropped the receiver back into its cradle and slumped onto the magenta throw pillows atop the Victorian settee.

  “What’s going on this afternoon? How many clients do we have coming in?” Amelia asked absently as she cross-referenced her pink and purple personality profiles, her index finger twirling her hair.

  “None. I wasn’t sure when you’d be back. You know, ‘cause of those weird claims Justin made, so I didn’t schedule anything ‘til later in the week. Except,” Jennie said with a grin, “I booked you a manicure, haircut, and make-up session with Nancy while I have my color corrected.”

  “Well cancel them please. I can’t be away all afternoon, not after we were closed for so many days.”

  Jennie shook her head.

  “Not possible. I had to give a non-refundable deposit since these are same day appointments. I can’t give twenty-four hours’ cancellation notice. Besides, we should ease our way back in here anyway, in case there is some lunatic running around with notions of seeking her revenge. Although I’ve been thinking about it all week, I have no idea who it could be.

  ”Jennie pushed at her cuticles with long French tipped nails. “Do you?”

  Amelia shook her head.

  “I’ve wondered about that myself. What did I do wrong? It doesn’t make any sense. The program takes all the guesswork out of this. I mean, yes it’s obviously possible that I could have paired up two wildly inappropriate people. But my screening methods have been so good up until now. I really though I thought I had my crazy radar perfectly tuned. It all seems so….”

  “Unbelievable?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know,” Jennie sat up and leaned forward, “what is possible is that it never happened.”

  “No way. I saw the five hundreds Justin said the man offered him.”

  “So what?” Jennie pursed her lips together.

  “How do we know Justin didn’t come up with that story to explain his sudden wealth? Maybe he stole it. Or perhaps he’s dealing drugs.”

  “No!”

  “Think about it, Amelia. This guy shows up on the street one day, he seems to be pretty smart, and very articulate. But what do we really know about him? How can we be sure he isn’t an escapee from a loony bin?”

  “That’s politically incorrect, and you know it, ” Amelia replied. “I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with him. After all, he didn’t have to show me that money. And from what I can see he’s not too popular with the drinking or drugging crowd we get around here. No, I believe he’s just a victim of circumstance. Wrong place at the wrong time – you know what they say, it’s scary how close to the edge we all are.”

  Jennie threw back her head and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You, now claiming your crown as the queen of intuition! You don’t trust your feelings about anything except some homeless man, whose last name you probably don’t even know.”

  “I think it might be Sorvenson,” Amelia muttered under her breath.

  She turned to Jennie and grinned.

  “All right, all right! You’ve made your point. I guess you now know that the ice queen’s heart isn’t so hard after all.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “How’d you know about that? I never said they were right; I always defended you.”

  “Oh, I know.” Amelia smiled.

  “I’ve just been waiting for ten years to throw that into conversation.”

  Jennie’s eyes began to fill up.

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You were a terrific friend to me then and you’re a great friend now. You’ve always accepted me for who I am.”

  “Well you’re perfect, and I’m sorry everyone didn’t see that. The past is over,” Amelia said, “But in the present, wow, you’re right.”

  She saw her reflection on her computer screen and grimaced.

  “I have got to do something about this!” Amelia wailed as she held up a piece of tangled hair.

  She shut off her computer and walked to the door.

  “Besides, Mama said I need to doll up for my dinner tonight ‘cause ‘it’s easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar, darlin’.”

  Amelia opened the door and Jennie joined her on the pavement in front of the store.


  “I see Stella’s playing the Southern belle again,” she said, slipping her arm through Amelia’s.

  “Y’all don’t know the half of it.”

  “Well then in that case we’d best get ourselves over to Roscoe’s for some fried chicken, collard greens and biscuits.”

  “Okay, but only if I can top mine off with a plate of waffles.”

  ****

  After racing camels in North Africa, Cupid had stopped by a casbah in Marrakech for a bowl of couscous, some tea poured from a glass pot eighteen inches above his small clear, mint-stuffed glass, and a shave from his favorite barber. As he lay back in the barber chair, enjoying the sound of a soccer ball being kicked along the street outside the shop and the scrape of the straight razor against his throat, he tried to remember everything he’d read while drinking his tea.