“Well, I didn’t sleep much.” He sipped at his coffee.
“Yeah, well…” Brea let the sentence trail. “I’m going to call the bank today—”
“I’ve already opened an account for you at my bank. I deposited the amount I’d given you on the check.” He rubbed at his eyes.
“Wow, I didn’t realize one could get so much done before nine.”
“I might as well be productive if I’m not going to sleep. Besides banking rules don’t apply to me. Remember, money gives special privileges.”
“Does this mean I have to tear the check up?” Brea smiled at Jordan. He gave her a half smile in return.
“Keep it.”
“Why would you pay me double the amount?”
“Because I’m going to be your only client for awhile. I’m very picky about they way I want things. Consider yourself attached to my hip.” He set his cup down.
“What?” Brea could feel her temper rising. “You think you can just pay for my time?”
“Isn’t that the nature of your business?”
“You’re twisting the meaning and you know it. I’m not your personal servant!”
“No, you’re my personal decorator. Get dressed, we’re going shopping.” With that he left her standing in the kitchen with her mouth hanging open.
He bought her more clothes than she owned. She protested every single article of clothing—except the black leather skirt that looked absolutely adorable. They sat across from each other in silence after the waiter had taken their lunch order.
“It seems to me that since I now have access to money I could just stay in a hotel.” Brea played with her utensils.
“That’s a foolish idea,” Jordan responded.
“Why?”
“Because you’re burning money unnecessarily. Save it. I told you before, it would probably be better for you to stay in the condo, get a feel for it. Besides, if I have an idea in the middle of the night I certainly don’t want to wait until you can come over to discuss it.”
“That’s what telephones are for.”
“I hate speaking on the telephone. Look, if it’s the sleeping arrangements, after lunch your first official duty will be to choose a bed to go into the guest bedroom. Then you can sleep there.”
Brea frowned. She would be wasting good money. But on the other hand, being that close to Jordan would be hell. She had to remain professional. It they slept in different bedrooms she wouldn’t be so tempted.
“Fine, we’ll do this on a trial basis.”
“Agreed.” Jordan paused “Have you thought about what I asked?”
What could she say? It was the thing that was going on in her head since it left his mouth. She’d found to her shock that she had actually debated about it. What was it about him that seemed to pull her toward him despite her better judgment?
“A little bit.”
“And?”
“And I haven’t changed my mind.” Brea had to remind herself to kick herself later.
“I don’t like that,” Cupid said for the millionth time, in question to the millionth bed they looked at.
“I thought you said I could choose the bed,” Brea huffed.
In reality, Cupid couldn’t care less about the bed, any bed for that matter. Just give him a bed with Brea in it and he wanted it. In truth she had excellent taste. Every bed she looked at was ready to be delivered—as is. That wasn’t what he was looking for.
“What about that one?” He pointed to a king-sized sleigh bed that had drawers built underneath. The wood was expensive and the stain flawless. The display sign proudly stated they were willing to do custom work.
“Oh, that one.” Brea looked happy for a moment that he’d chosen a bed. “Jordan, it has to be professionally assembled.”
“So?”
“So, the soonest that could happen is tomorrow.”
“You mean they do custom work that soon?” Cupid whistled in mock impressiveness. “I had no idea.”
“What custom work?” Brea turned around and looked at him in frustration.
“I like the bed, but it could use a bit more design on it, don’t you think?” Cupid stepped to the front of it and pointed to the smooth bare area at the front. “I think a little artwork here would be different.”
“Jordan, it could take more than a week and that’s being hopeful.” Brea put her hands on her hips.
“I’m not in a rush, are you?” Cupid had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. She was spitting mad and trying hard to hide it.
“No, of course not. It’s your house, you should have what you want in it.” She walked around the bed until she stood next to him. “What kind of artwork do you have in mind?”
“Something…sensual.”
“That’s vague.” Brea rolled her eyes.
“Well, that’s your job, to figure out for me what I want.” Cupid smiled at her.
“I thought you knew what you wanted.” Brea looked at him in suspicion.
He stepped forward until he was in front of her. “Make no mistake, I know what I want.” He put as much desire in his voice that was allowed without using his gifts. Cupid felt the summons of Hermes. He hoped it was good news. “I have to go.” He tossed her the keys to his car. “I’ll catch a cab. Put the order in for the bed and surprise me with the artwork. I’ll meet you at the condo later this evening. We’re going out for dinner.” Cupid gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left before she protested.
He walked out, around to the back of the store, and when he was sure no one else was around he brought forth his wings, and took off for Mount Olympus.
“What is it, old friend?” Cupid asked, meeting Hermes in the official meeting room for Council.
“Hecate has traced Arachne here, I can’t find her.” Hermes seemed deep in thought.
“You’ve searched everywhere?”
“No, Cupid, I sat here and waited for Arachne to show up,” Hermes said sarcastically. “Hecate is sure she is here, but I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Well, apparently you haven’t if you still haven’t found her.” Cupid smirked at him. “How hard can it be to find a teensy weensy spider?”
“Look, we’ll split the rooms in half and look separately.” Hermes ignored Cupid’s jibe.
They sat down and split the rooms in half on Mount Olympus. Cupid didn’t feel it was fair, after all with Hermes’s quick speed he was bound to finish before Cupid.
Two hours later Cupid was ready to give up, when he looked at the weapons room. It usually stayed empty since the vengeful gods always seemed to have a need for vengeance. Cupid let his sight settle warily on the closet Zeus kept his weapons in. He was rather reluctant to search that particular area. The thought of being locked into that closet again was quite undesirable. He summoned Hermes.
“You found her?” Hermes asked seconds after the summons.
“No, I need you to go look in there.” Cupid pointed to the closet.
“You’re kidding right?” Hermes looked in disbelief at Cupid. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to look in there.”
“First of all it’s locked, and everyone knows you can pick any divine lock.”
“I resent that.”
“It’s no less true, go on, check it out.” Cupid pushed him toward the closet. Hermes grumbled, but picked the lock in three seconds flat.
“Well?” Cupid asked anxiously as Hermes disappeared into the closet. Hermes didn’t respond. Eventually he came out with a glass container with a very sick-looking spider inside.
“She’s not dead is she?” Hermes asked, handing the container to Cupid.
“She’s immortal remember? I think she’s just sick.” Cupid studied the glass trying to find a way to open it. Eventually he hit upon something because the container began to open. Cupid and Hermes sat on the floor with the container.
“No telling how long she’s been trapped in there. Ask her,” Hermes prodded Cupid.
Cupid concentrat
ed, trying to find the wavelength on which he communicated with the spider. Arachne was quite shy; she didn’t communicate with just anyone. Cupid was one of very few she talked to. Arachne didn’t respond.
“I think she’s too weak.” Cupid gave up. “I don’t think she’s eaten.”
Hermes began to dig around in his jacket. He pulled out a piece of ambrosia candy and set it in his palm, then smashed it into small pieces with his thumb. He took the smallest piece and set it in front of the spider. “I can’t believe I’m hand-feeding a spider,” he muttered as the spider weakly began to eat the ambrosia.
“She used to be human,” Cupid reminded him.
“Yes, well sometimes it’s hard to remember that when I’m looking at eight legs.” He pushed another small piece in front of the arachnid.
“Can you keep an eye on her?” Cupid asked.
“You want me to baby-sit?” Hermes was insulted.
“Arachne has feelings, remember that, Herm. I can’t take her home. Brea is there. Besides, whoever did this will be looking for her once they realize she’s gone.”
“Fine, but you owe me, Cupid.” Hermes scooped up the bottom half of the glass with the spider inside and stood. “Let me know how things are going.” Then Hermes was gone before Cupid could thank him.
Eighteen: Treading deep water
Brea realized she was still standing in the store, with her hands on her hips in indignation, a full two minutes after Jordan left. She snapped her mouth closed and hailed a salesman. She really had to give herself a pat on the back, when she requested artwork on the front board of the bed. It had been almost too much of a temptation to not tell the salesman she wanted Mickey Mouse carved into the bed. She settled on a design that she herself loved and decided he’d just have to deal with it.
She did admit to herself that she loved driving the sporty Corvette. She even let her hair down just to feel it whip about her shoulders as she made her way home. Home? She made her way to her place of employment that she happened to be staying.
In two trips she managed to get all her bags in the door. After she wrestled all of them in, she sat in a chair and contemplated her next move. It was early evening and Jordan had mentioned they were going out to dinner. It was a business dinner. That was why Brea pulled out the leather skirt and barely there top that had made Jordan’s eyes bug out when she picked it up.
His libido was not her problem. She pulled the plush robe and new body shampoos and lotions out of the bag and headed for the shower. No, it was not her problem whatsoever, she told herself, as she began the process of layering herself with her new sensual fragrances.
An hour later she looked nothing less than delectable, if she said so herself. The doorbell rang. She purposely waited for it to ring two more times before she sauntered to the door. Brea tried to appear indifferent when she opened the door.
“You should have more than one set of keys.” Thank goodness that was all she intended to say because her mouth went dry.
Jordan stood with a single rose in his hand and presented it to her. His hair appeared freshly washed in its ponytail state. As usual, he wore black, this time he was in a full tuxedo, with a grin a world famous modeling agency would love.
“You look absolutely ravishing,” he declared as his eyes appraised her hotly. He pulled her to him and whispered in her ear. “You should know better than to tease a starving man with a tasty morsel that he can’t eat.” His warm breath tickled her ear.
She blushed from her upswept hairdo to her black stiletto-heeled feet. His double meaning was not lost upon her. She let the visual of his words sweep her up for the moment, then she shook it off as she took a step back.
“Thank you. You clean up well yourself.” Brea had to watch her words carefully. For a second she felt as if she were flirting with him.
“You chariot awaits.” His hand swept out in a flourish, indicating that she should venture out first.
“Let me get my purse and the keys to the car.” Brea turned to grab her purse, adding a sway to her hips that came out of nowhere.
“Leave the car keys,” he said with a secretive look on his face. Brea looked over her shoulder at him, then grabbed the keys to the condo and her purse and exited.
“I had no idea you owned a chariot.” Brea looked at the four white horses with nothing short of shock. When he said her chariot awaited she assumed he had another vehicle at his disposal.
Cupid smiled smugly, Apollo wouldn’t miss them if he had them back by morning. He’d thought long and hard about this one. Technically (and he was beginning to love the context of the word) he wasn’t using his abilities to seduce her, he was using Apollo’s. “They, I must confess, are borrowed.” He helped her into the chariot before he entered.
“Well, this is going through an awful lot of trouble for a business dinner.” Brea said, adjusting the short skirt as Cupid sat next to her and took the reigns.
“Nonsense,” he replied urging the horses to go.
“You don’t consider borrowing horses and a chariot a lot of trouble?” Brea was agog with wonder.
“I was referring to your comment about this being a business dinner.” He eased the horses into a slow trot. Anything faster and they would be flying—literally.
“This is a business dinner,” Brea insisted, primly trying to adjust a skirt that didn’t have enough material to adjust.
“So tell me, fair maiden,” Cupid laughed “When was the last time you wore a black leather skirt and stiletto heels on a business dinner?”
Brea let out a huff of air and turned away from Cupid, but not before he saw the smile that crept across her lips.
“What is this place?” Brea looked at the nondescript building that gave nothing away. Cupid jumped down and out of the chariot first, tying the reins to a nearby post. He held out his hand and helped Brea down and out of the chariot before he answered her.
“It used to be a chocolate factory. But it was bought some years back and turned into a rather exclusive place to eat.” Cupid crooked his arm and she slid her arm around his as they fell into step together.
He left out the part about it being exclusive to non-human entities. Gods, fairies, shapeshifters, you name it, you’d probably find one inside—except this night. The owner, a prince from overseas, owed Cupid a favor. Having been cursed by an enchantress, his only way to end the curse was to have someone love him. Cupid had had a hand in a certain beauty falling for the cursed beast. No longer a beast, the prince seemed pretty happy with his wife.
Tonight the guest list was very selective, if you couldn’t pass for human, you weren’t allowed in. Everyone had been instructed to be on their best human behavior. Cupid led her up to the door that was opened before he could even give the coded knock.
“Welcome!” the prince greeted Cupid. “We have a table all ready for you and your lovely companion.” Cupid gave the prince a hug and they were seated. He watched Brea’s eyes as they darted around the room, not sure where to look first.
It was an impressive restaurant. One wall had been turned into a giant waterfall. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Each table seemed ornately carved and one of a kind. The seats were large and comfortable; they looked more like thrones than chairs.
“I’m speechless. I’ve lived here a long time and I have never heard of this place. What is it called?”
Of course she never heard of it, no mortals ever did. She’d never be able to find it on her own. “I’m glad you like it, the food here is excellent.” Cupid swerved around her question. “What are you in the mood for?” he let his words drip with innuendo.
“I’ll need a menu.” Brea looked around the restaurant again with appreciation in her eyes.
“You don’t need one, order anything you like, anything at all,” he encouraged her.
“Are you serious? What if I ordered a rack of lamb?”
“They’d make it for you,” he said smoothly sipping the water in front of him.
“W
ow! You sure know how to impress a girl.” Brea sipped her water.
“You’re not just any girl, Brea. I’ve told you that.”
“I said—”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you said. You and I both know that something is going on between us. I’ve made love to you, Brea, you think I’m just going to give up?”
“It was just sex.” She seemed unsure of her words.
“If it was just sex, you wouldn’t have gotten so mad at me when I acted crazy.”
“It’s what you said…”
“Fine. If you’re going to go by things that I say and believe them than why can’t you believe me when I say I am truly sorry and want to start over?”
“I don’t know,” she said at last.
“Well, I do, and I say stop fighting me and forgive me.” He grabbed her hand and lightly brushed the top of it with his thumb. “I want you, and not just in my bed.”
“Why do you want me, Jordan? What’s in it for you?”
Cupid’s heart sped. He couldn’t lie to her. He certainly couldn’t tell the reason behind everything. “I want you because you were handpicked for me above all others by a divine being. Having you in my life gives me a chance at something that I treasure quite dearly.” Not a lie, Cupid decided, not a lie at all.
“Those words are quite eloquent.” Brea blushed again.
“Well?” he brushed the back of her soft hand.
“One chance, last chance,” Brea said.
Cupid barely had his hand in the air to summon a waiter when one appeared at their table. “We’d like to order your best champagne, a celebration is in order.” The waiter bowed and disappeared.
“Did you hear that?” Psyche hissed at Eris across the table. She and Eris were a scant three tables away from the new couple. Psyche didn’t worry about Cupid sensing them. There were too many immortals in the room for him to notice. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say he actually cared for her, but I do know better. He only loves himself, and me when I can make him realize it again.”
“Yes, I heard him, this is his last chance and ours too, so I’d better make this good.” Eris said deep in thought.
Utter Cupidity Page 13
