He snapped his stubby fingers again and a dossier an inch thick appeared in his hand. Without giving it a second glance, he held it out to her.
She took it, feeling a jumbled-up mixture of nerves, sickness, and excitement. It would be weird knowing who her true love was before she actually loved him. She slowly opened the file and read the name.
Humanity was doomed.
She snapped the file shut and handed it back. “This isn’t going to work.”
Cosmo rested his cigar in the ashtray and frowned. “Why not?” he asked, opening the folder and looking over the name for himself. “According to our records, this guy—Adam Lovello—is perfect for you. Besides, it can’t be changed. You don’t get to pick who you fall in love with. It doesn’t work that way. Cupid has spoken,” he said, holding out the file to her again.
“Well, Cupid should do better research,” she snapped. “Adam Lovello isn’t interested. He brought his niece and nephew to my studio for a photo session once and he didn’t even know I existed behind the camera. Well, that’s not entirely true. He did happen to notice me when I spilled my coffee all over the place.”
“So?”
“I spilled it on him, too.”
“No biggie.”
She bit her lip. “Okay, when I say him, I mean…his crotch.”
Cosmo winced. “That could be a problem.”
“See? I told you!”
“All right, take it easy. That little incident could set us back a day, but that still gives us a good week to get to work.”
“Work? Can’t you just wave your fingers and have him look at me and fall in love?”
“You mean love at first sight?” He laughed, loud and hard, as if she were a regular Sarah Silverman.
What is so funny? She folded her arms and waited for him to settle down.
After a few long moments, he wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, man, that was a good one. I can’t believe you actually thought love at first sight existed.”
She lifted her chin. “Are you telling me it doesn’t?”
“Yes. Now…lust at first sight is very real. But love? That requires a little work. And a little Cupid, of course,” he said with a grin.
A little work and a little Cupid. Of course. How silly of her to think otherwise. Nothing in her life was ever easy; why had she thought this would be any different?
“However, we can speed things up a bit,” he added, stroking his double chin. “You just need him to kiss you—a full-on, toe-curling kiss—before midnight on Valentine’s Day.”
She sank into a chair, holding her head between her hands. “A toe-curling kiss from a man who probably wants to stay at least forty feet from me when any hot beverages are within my reach. Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”
The amused look suddenly left Cosmo’s eyes. “Well,” he said, his mouth forming a grim line, “for our sake and all the earth’s, you’re going to have to see that it does.”
Chapter Three
The next day, Cosmo told Phoebe he had a plan for getting her and Adam together and insisted on picking her up bright and early at 7:00 a.m.
Phoebe was surprised when he showed up in the same taxi as the other night. She’d kind of hoped she’d get to do the materializing thing with him. But Cosmo said he preferred to drive, since he never got a chance to back home. Wherever home was for him.
She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.
Cosmo parked the cab on the street corner and they both got out. “This is where Adam lives,” he said, gesturing to the building on her left.
Phoebe glanced around and was immediately impressed. Adam’s condo was a historical but well-kept bayfront property near Faneuil Hall. She had no idea what the inside of the place looked like, but the outside practically screamed, You could not afford this unless you win the lottery.
“So what’s your plan?” she asked, peering back up at the brick building.
Cosmo rubbed his hands together, then blew on them as if trying to warm them up. Apparently, minor gods had tricks up their sleeves that didn’t include gloves. “I thought we’d hang out here and bump into him before he goes to work,” he told her.
“That’s your great plan? For us to wait here in the cold?”
He shrugged. “Well, we could hang out where he works instead.”
His work. It dawned on her then that she really didn’t know much about Adam at all—aside from the fact that he was an impeccable dresser and had the nicest brown eyes. “What does he do for a living?”
Cosmo snapped his fingers. The dossier appeared in midair and gently landed in his palm. He began paging through it. “He’s a doctor— Oh, wait. Actually, he’s a cardiologist at Massachusetts General.”
“Wow, a cardiologist.” Impressive. The love of her life—or the soon-to-be love of her life—was a doctor. How perfect. She’d be a doctor’s wife! Imagine that. When she’d first met Adam she’d thought he was handsome, but she had no idea he was so smart. Or that he enjoyed helping people. That had to translate to good fatherhood potential, too. Bonus.
The wind picked up. She held her scarf more closely to her neck as she peered over Cosmo’s shoulder. “He’d be kind of hard to find at the hospital, though,” she pointed out.
“I don’t know…” Cosmo puffed on his cigar some more in thought. He took a long drag, then blew it out. “Can you fake an illness?”
She waved a hand in front of her, but the smoke enveloped her head like a ski mask. “You blow any more smoke in my face and I won’t have to.”
“There’s that mouth of yours again. You know, you would be wise to—” But before Cosmo could finish, he disappeared.
Well, heck, where did he go? She planted a hand on her hips and looked up into the sky. “Oh, yeah?” she yelled. “I would be wise to what?”
A tap on her shoulder almost made her jump out of her boots. She gasped and whirled around, throwing her hands up in two fists.
“Whoa, sorry,” a man said, holding his palms out in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard you say something and I thought you were talking to me.”
Well, the good news was the dark-haired man didn’t look like an attacker. Not while carrying a bag of bagels, anyway. In fact, he looked quite…cute, if not a bit wary from having two fists shoved in his face.
“Oh, sorry.” She dropped her arms. “I was talking to…” She glanced around again. Cosmo hadn’t returned. “Myself.” Apparently.
“Do you live here?” he asked.
“Oh, no. I live in the North End.” Then she jerked her thumb behind her because the way he was studying her made Phoebe nervous and she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Tell me, do you always stand outside strange condo buildings on early Saturday mornings and talk to yourself?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had a point. She supposed she did look pretty ridiculous, no thanks to one Cosmo E. Cupid III. “Um, no. I was actually waiting for someone.” Sort of.
The man stuck out his lip, pretending to be hurt. “I guess that someone isn’t me, huh?”
She flushed. Was he flirting with her? It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if he were—that is, if she had the time to dally with a man who wasn’t her soul mate. He was actually more than just cute, now that she was able to relax and focus on him. He had dark brown hair, cut short—more businessman-short than sporty-short. His face held a slight shadow of stubble, not surprising since it was so early and he appeared to have just run out for bagels. He had nice eyes, too—a beautiful light blue with little flecks of gray. They were startling against his dark brows and the way—
A swift kick from behind jarred her from her thoughts. She looked back. Only empty space, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Cosmo hadn’t completely disappeared as she’d thought.
“Well, who are you waiting for?” the man asked. “I know a lot of people in the building.”
She bit her lip. “Um, A
dam Lovello.”
One corner of his mouth twisted upward. “Really?” he said, dragging out the first syllable of the word. “As it happens, Adam is my roommate. For a little while longer, anyway. He’s still looking for his own place. In the meantime, I live conveniently close to the hospital for him.”
Roommate? Uh-oh. Cosmo should have clued her in about Adam having a roommate. Something like that would have been nice to know.
She gulped. “Wow, what a small world. Adam didn’t mention a roommate.”
“Hmm,” was all he said. He dropped his gaze and checked his watch. “Adam won’t be down for a while. He had a late night at the hospital.”
Crap. She couldn’t go home now. Time was getting away from her as it was. She had to think of something fast.
“Well, it’s important I see him. I have to tell him…” That he’s my true love and that he needs to kiss me before midnight on Valentine’s Day or love will be wiped off the planet. “…he won a free session at my photography studio.”
“A free photo session, huh?” His left brow rose a fraction. “Lucky him. But you could have just called instead of waiting out here in the cold.”
Of course she could have. Any person with half a brain would have. Unfortunately she hadn’t relied on her brain—she had relied on the intellect of a minor Roman god. “Yes, but…I couldn’t. Because…I lost my phone.” Ooh, nice save. “And the photo session expires on Valentine’s Day,” she added, surprising herself with her quick thinking.
Wow, she was a better liar than she thought. Although, judging by the half smirk on Mr. Hot Roommate’s face, he didn’t quite share that same belief.
“Well then, maybe you should follow me up and tell him yourself,” he suggested. “Considering it’s such an emergency and all.”
She blinked. “Oh. Yes, it is an emergency. Thank you. That would be great.”
“I’m Cal Crawford, by the way.” He switched the bag of bagels he’d been carrying to his left hand and held out his right.
“Phoebe Ward,” she said, taking his hand. They had been standing in the cold for a while, so the heat of his skin was a pleasant surprise. The warmth traveled all the way down to her toes. But something else transpired when their palms met. Almost like a static charge. Her fingers tingled. She looked up and saw his eyes widen. He’d felt it, too.
She promptly disengaged her hand. “Lead the way,” she croaked.
He cocked his head to the side, studying her, as though he were trying to judge whether she was friend or foe. She must have passed muster, because after a moment, he turned and punched the code into the keyless lock. Opening the door, he waited for her to pass.
She took one last glance back, but Cosmo still hadn’t reappeared. Her stomach muscles tightened. He’d left her on her own to make this plan work. Great.
She just hoped she wouldn’t screw it up.
Chapter Four
Cal had his doubts about inviting Phoebe up, but she seemed harmless enough. Plus, he’d always been a risk taker. It served him well in business, and now he hoped it would—at the very least—serve him well with an interesting morning diversion. So he handed her a cup of coffee and motioned for her to make herself comfortable.
Phoebe glanced at the sofa, bit her lip, and then walked over to the window that boasted a view of Boston Harbor. Tapping her toe, she pulled on a strand of hair and began twisting it around her finger. She hadn’t even taken a sip of coffee and the woman was already a nervous ball of energy. He wondered what her game was.
She had her back to him, so he took the opportunity to let his gaze roam lazily over her figure. No harm in that, after all, just admiring his view. Her reddish-blond hair hung in soft waves just below her bra line. She was a tight little package, in jeans and a slim-flitting aqua turtleneck. A bit on the skinny side, but she looked as if she’d eat a hamburger or enjoy a slice of pizza once in a while. The type of girl you could take to a baseball game and not worry that there wasn’t a salad available. Yep, that was Adam’s type all right.
Unfortunately, that was exactly Cal’s type as well.
She was more than his type. There was something about her that attracted him beyond just her natural good looks. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was, or why he even cared about it. She wasn’t here because of him anyway. Obviously she was only interested in Adam based on that phony-baloney free picture story she’d fed him.
He observed her for another moment. Her thoughts looked like they ran deep as she stared out into the water, almost as if she carried the weight of the world in that mind of hers. For some reason he felt compelled to wrap his arms around her and tell her that whatever she was worried about would be okay. But he wisely kept his feet and his arms planted where they were.
“How’s the coffee?” he asked, half hoping she’d turn around again and prove she wasn’t nearly as attractive as he’d first thought.
She glanced over, offering up a grateful smile. “It’s perfect, thanks. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”
Dammit. She was as attractive as he’d thought. Even better than he’d first thought. Adam was a lucky SOB.
“No, you’re not keeping me from anything,” he said. “Saturday is my day off.” He checked his watch and bit off a sigh. Adam would be getting up soon. Cal wouldn’t have her to himself for much longer.
“So what do you do for a living?” she asked, leaning against the window ledge and taking a sip of coffee.
“Some hotel work.”
“Oh? What hotel?”
He cleared his throat. “The, uh, Marlstone.”
A delicately shaped eyebrow shot up. “The Marlstone? That’s more than some hotel. I’ve photographed a lot of weddings there. It’s simply gorgeous inside, especially when it was all decorated for Christmas.”
A sense of pride filled his chest, and he smiled. “Yes, it is.”
His family had bought the hotel over fifty years ago and turned it into a premier hotel chain. Now, Cal not only ran it but was president and CEO of the entire chain all over North America. Not too many people knew that, though—he preferred to keep a low profile. It kept women from beating down his door, especially the money-minded ones. He didn’t have time for a wife, let alone a relationship, although he did enjoy women’s company from time to time. Work and the hotel had been his priority since he graduated with his MBA. But gazing into Phoebe’s pretty face gave him a weird feeling, like maybe his priorities needed reevaluating.
“So how long have you known Adam?” she asked.
“We met at Harvard and were roommates back then.”
“And now you’re roommates again.”
“Yeah, but he’s not as much fun now,” Cal said with a scowl. “Especially when he goes into doctor mode and criticizes my eating habits.”
She laughed, nearly choking on a swallow of coffee. “I’m sure it’s his way of paying you back for letting him stay with you.”
“Then the phrase ‘payback is a bitch’ is true,” he muttered, making her laugh again. He found he liked her laugh and appreciated how easily it bubbled out of her. He had to admit he was enjoying himself more than he expected. “How long have you been a photographer?” he asked.
She beamed. “Since I was ten and got my very own camera for Christmas. But professionally, I’ve had my own business for almost seven years.”
“You must be pretty good to have survived this long in the city.”
“I’m the best.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Such confidence.”
“Well, I have confidence in my work. Behind the camera, that’s where I know exactly what I’m doing. As soon as I look through the lens everything becomes clear. I can let go and allow my instincts to take over.” She paused, looking a little sad. “In my personal life, my instincts aren’t so reliable.”
“I don’t know about that. Your instincts led you here, didn’t they?”
A frown tugged between her brows. “Yeah, sort of,” she
murmured. She turned back to the window, seemingly absorbed in her own thoughts.
Cal knew what she meant about instincts and trusting them. He relied on them heavily in his business dealings as well. Her job seemed to be just as important to her as his was to him. In fact, she positively glowed when she’d talked about her photography. He was fascinated by that aspect of her…or maybe he was just plain fascinated by her. He wanted to know more about this woman who had somehow ended up in his apartment.
He quietly came up behind her. Good lord, she smelled good. More than good, actually—sexy. A little cinnamon mixed with something floral. He leaned closer and took another whiff, hoping she wouldn’t notice his nose an inch from her hair. The scent seemed to go right to his libido. Like lightning, it generated a spark that made his heart thump erratically.
Phoebe shifted her footing and her elbow bumped into him. She jumped, and coffee sloshed on her hand and onto the floor.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m so clumsy. I didn’t get any coffee on you, did I?”
“No, no, not at all.” He grabbed a napkin from the coffee table. Guilt nagged at him. Here it was his fault she’d spilled coffee on herself and she was concerned about him. He hoped she hadn’t burned herself.
He quickly took her hand to blot off any droplets. As soon as he touched her, a sharp awareness ran through him. Phoebe’s breath caught and he looked up. For a long moment, their eyes met, and his lungs suddenly seemed too big for his chest.
Interesting… There was that pull again. He’d felt it before, when he’d shaken her hand outside, and thought he’d imagined it. But now the attraction was so vivid. It seemed to hum between them like dozens of fireflies.
Still holding her hand, he inched closer. His gaze dropped to her lightly glossed mouth. “Phoebe—”
“Hey, what’s all the commotion?” said a groggy voice.
Cal blew out a breath. Adam had picked the worst time to drag his slippered feet into the living room. He was in a Celtics T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms, rubbing one eye as he yawned. Talk about a cock block.
A Little Bit Cupid Page 2
