by Amanda Heger
Once she got Jake into the supply room in the back of the office, Eliza crossed her arms. “Seriously?”
“Hey, I never said he was a great guy. I just said I had a client.”
“A client who talks about himself in third person.”
“I swear he doesn’t talk about himself in third person at the gym. He probably just gets nervous around beautiful women, so he’s overcompensating,” Jake said.
Eliza tried—and failed—to ignore the way his compliment made her entire body warm. “Oh, he’s definitely overcompensating for something.” She turned and plugged the code into the safe her parents kept in the back corner. “But according to Cupid 101, it’s not my job to judge someone’s personality, only their fitness for enchantment.”
“Sounds like you really have been studying in your underwear,” Jake said.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She pulled out the large binder of profiles and handed it to Jake as the bells over the front door rang. “Take these in there. I’ll go tell whoever wandered in that the restroom is for customers only.”
Unfortunately, her least favorite Department of Affection, Seduction, and Shellfish agent did not need to use the restroom. “Ms. Herman, I was just driving by and noticed an unusual car in your parking lot. I’m sure you weren’t interacting with a potential customer without giving the Department notice.”
Her scalp suddenly got all hot and itchy. How many times a day did this bozo drive by the office in hope of catching her doing something wrong? Enough to know which cars in the lot were unusual, at least. “Um, actually, I thought you were already aware. But I was coming out here to call you just to be sure.” She put one hand on the office phone, as if this might convince him.
“I was aware, but the regulations require me to hear this information from you. Not your mentor.”
“Oh. My apologies, I didn’t realize—”
“Of course you didn’t realize, Ms. Herman. Because you never read the fine print. This is your final warning.”
All she could manage was a nod.
“The client is in there?” Oliver motioned toward the inner office door.
“Yes. Would you like to meet him? Jake’s currently in the office with him.” Please say no. Please say no. Hard telling what an idiot like Eddie would say that could land her in trouble with the Department.
“Yes, actually. I think that’s a great idea.”
She let out a ragged breath. “Absolutely. Follow me, please.”
She cracked open the door to find Eddie hunched over the binder. He was flipping the pages too quickly to consider even half the information contained in each profile. “No. Nope. No. Not her. Almost…”
“What about this one?” Jake asked. “She seems nice.”
“She doesn’t have any pets. I like women with pets.”
“This one looks promising,” Jake said.
“Too many teeth when she smiles.”
“Her?”
“Naw. She’s wearing too much pink.”
Finally, he made it to the last page and stared. “Her,” he muttered. “Definitely her.”
Eliza faked a quiet cough. “Eddie, this is Agent Oliver with the Department of Affection, Seduction, and Shellfish. He’s here doing a quick checkup on how things are going. The same level of confidentiality that we discussed still applies.”
Agent Oliver pulled a tiny notebook from his back pocket and began scrawling notes. “Mr. Pearson, when did you first contact Eliza Herman about an enchantment?”
“Today. I just stopped by this afternoon.”
“You didn’t have an appointment?”
“Not really. Drove by on my way to get some protein powder and decided to stop in. Called my buddy Jake here to let him know I wanted to swing by. Did you know Red Clover has a buy-one, get-one deal on whey this month?”
Agent Oliver wrote faster. “Did Ms. Herman discuss the potential side effects of an enchantment with you?”
“Yeah, but no bleeding, right? Because I’m not afraid of blood exactly, it’s just that I don’t like it.”
Agent Oliver narrowed his beady eyes. “No bleeding, Ms. Herman?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem for me,” she said.
“And have you chosen a match?” he asked Eddie.
“Yep.” He opened the book to the very last page. “Her.”
The agent leaned down to look at the photo. “Very well. Ms. Herman, why don’t you get this enchantment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon? That should give you plenty of time to contact this woman. I have some free time and would like to do your Department observation then.”
Eliza’s throat constricted. “Of course,” she eked out.
“Call me with the time,” Oliver said before marching out of the office.
“Tomorrow? As in Tuesday?” Eddie’s eyes widened. He jumped out of the chair. “Eddie is going to need a wax this afternoon.” He hurried out, and the door clanged shut behind him.
Eliza gripped the edge of the desk. Was it possible to go into anaphylactic shock from nerves? Because sometime in the next twenty-four hours, she was going to find out. Enchanting Eddie Pearson and Yolanda Durst while Oliver-comma-Trevor scrutinized her every move might just kill her.
Chapter 12
“Complete transparency is necessary when obtaining informed consent to enchantment. In other aspects of the Affection Arts, however, some degree of deception may be acceptable, if not expected and necessary.”
—The Half-Wit’s Manual for Love
Monday evening at Red Clover was a madhouse of elderly people sniffing cantaloupes and blocking the aisles with shopping carts full of Ensure. A bus labeled “Gold Lea Assisted Living Villas” sat in the emergency vehicles lane of the parking lot, and every so often one of the elderly shoppers ambled on board with a bag of goods.
Eliza was in serious danger of running into Stu Vannerson, whose enchantment would be waning though not yet finished, but it couldn’t be helped. Not with Yolanda and Eddie’s match—and Eliza’s license—on the line.
She moved carefully through the front of the store with her arms tucked to avoid accidents. When she made her way to the empty customer-service desk, she rang the tiny bell on the counter and waited. For the hundredth time since she’d parked her car in the lot, Eliza wished Jake could have come along.
A petite woman in a Red Clover cashier’s uniform came out from the back room.
“Excuse me,” Eliza said. “Is this where I talk to someone about delivery orders?”
The woman looked at her with a dull expression and shrugged. “Sure, why not.” It wasn’t a question so much as a surrender.
“My friend has a standing delivery order for tomorrow afternoon. But she, um, had to go out of town suddenly.” She’d practiced this story with Jake before they’d closed the office, and it had come out smooth as silk. But now that she stood here, face-to-face with a woman who looked like she’d lost the will to live—or at least to provide customer service—the lie stuck in Eliza’s throat. “She asked me to pick up her groceries and store them at my house instead.”
The woman let out a nondescript grunt before turning to her computer. “Name?”
“Yolanda Durst.”
The woman tapped the keyboard with her index fingers. It was working. By some magic of the gods, all Eliza’s practice had really made perfect. She let out a deep breath.
“And her customer PIN?” the woman asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Her personal identification number. P-I-N.”
“Oh no. She didn’t mention that.” Of course. She’d been stupid to think anything in her life would ever be so simple.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t make any changes without it.” The woman started to turn her back to Eliza.
“Hold on,” Eliza said. “Please. Maybe I ca
n call her.” She pulled out her phone and pretended to dial. She needed time to think. Maybe listening to her own voicemail message could buy her a few precious seconds. Sadly, by the time Eliza heard herself say, “I’ll call you back as soon as possible,” she was still fresh out of ideas. She hung up and slipped the phone back into her pocket. “She’s not answering.”
The woman stared at her, obviously unimpressed. “I can’t make any changes without the PIN,” she repeated.
In some other universe where she’d been given more time to prepare for this enchantment, Eliza would come up with ten different ways to secretly enchant Yolanda Durst. Unfortunately, Oliver-comma-Trevor had made sure she had none of that. The only things Eliza knew about where to find Yolanda were her address and the fact that she got a weekly Tuesday afternoon delivery from Red Clover. Since Eliza couldn’t just knock on her door, introduce herself, and injure the woman, this would have to do.
“Is there a manager I can speak with?” Eliza asked.
“I am the manager.” The woman sighed and pointed to her name tag: Helen Rothchild, Assistant Manager, We Love to Serve. Without another word, she headed toward the back room.
Whatever kind of day this woman had been having had completely shut her down to doing favors for anyone else. Eliza glanced over her shoulder, then at Helen’s retreating back. “Helen, I would really appreciate it if you could help me out with this—”
The manager didn’t bother to look at Eliza. “Ma’am, I can’t make any changes to an existing order without the PIN.”
“I understand, but here’s the thing: Have you ever been in love?”
Helen paused, then turned, her expression wary. “Why?”
Just as Eliza had suspected. This woman’s troubles were of the love variety—they almost always were. Eliza pulled her provisional license from her pocket long enough for Helen to get the Cupid part but hopefully not the borderline-approval part. “I’m a Cupid,” Eliza whispered, “and if you do me this favor, I could probably help you out sometime.”
Helen’s eyes widened. The dullness that had been there a moment before cleared, leaving behind sparkling blues. “Really?”
Perfect. She’s a total sucker for love.
Eliza nodded. “I can personally guarantee that these groceries will make it to my friend. Now, what do you say?” She leaned farther over the counter, like she and Helen were the best of friends. “For a chance at love?”
Helen chewed her bottom lip, and Eliza glanced at the clock overhead. If this wasn’t going to work, she was going to need to move on to plan B as soon as possible. Of course, first she’d need to figure out what plan B was, exactly. She waited another beat, and the weight of defeat settled in her chest. “Never mind,” she said, turning to leave. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Wait,” Helen said. “Let me see your badge again.”
Eliza tried not to grimace as she slid her ID across the counter. She opened her mouth, ready to explain that borderline approval wasn’t as terrible as it seemed. Maybe lie was a better word choice than explain, but whatever.
“Eliza Herman.” Helen flipped the ID between her fingers. “Are you with Herman & Herman then?”
“Yes. Are you familiar? I’d be happy to—”
“Why do you need the groceries?”
“I told you, my friend is out of town. She doesn’t want them to go bad.” Eliza might be willing to tell a few white lies to make this match happen, but she wasn’t going to out Yolanda’s privacy.
“Okay. I’ll send the groceries with you.”
The weight of defeat lifted, Eliza finally took a deep breath. “Thank you so much, Helen. I’ll be sure to fill out a comment card, and if you call the Herman & Herman office—”
“But I’ll need your services in exchange. It’s a special situation.”
“Oh.” She’d heard stories about this kind of thing before. Someone trying to blackmail or bribe a Cupid into doing some under-the-table work. The type of work better suited to someone like Vic Van Love. “I’m sorry, I really can’t do anything below board. All involved parties have to consent—”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll even pay you,” Helen said.
Eliza’s forehead crinkled in confusion. If everyone was willing to consent and Helen was willing to pay, why not just hire someone through the usual channels? “What’s the special situation?”
Helen glanced over Eliza’s shoulder. “It’s delicate.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t want to discuss it here?”
Helen shook her head. “Shall I have them bring the bags to the front tomorrow at”—she hit a few keys on the computer—“four o’clock?”
Eliza ran down a quick pros-and-cons list in her head.
Pro: She’d get the groceries and have a solid cover for tomorrow.
Con: She’d be taking on a delicate situation that could be horrifying or dangerous or both.
Pro: She’d be bringing in new business.
Double pro: New business meant Vic Van Love’s predictions about her parents’ business were all wrong. Or mostly wrong.
“That would be great. Thanks. Let me leave you my card—”
“No need.” Helen plugged away at the computer, presumably making the changes to Yolanda’s order. “I know Herman & Herman’s number.”
Uh-oh. A half dozen red flags went up in Eliza’s brain. If Helen knew the Herman & Herman number by heart—
“There’s my sweet girl,” a wobbling voice said from somewhere behind her. “I knew the stars would align for us. Also, I just bought this Align probiotic. Keeps me as regular as the day is long.”
Eliza looked back and forth between Helen and Stu Vannerson. She really needed to find out more about Helen’s situation. But she really, really needed to get away from Old Man Vannerson before he decided to do something bonkers, like write her into his will.
She inched away from them both. “Thanks for all your help, Helen. Call me,” Eliza said.
She pushed through the doors, dodging carts and consoling herself with the knowledge that soon Stu Vannerson’s enchantment would wear off. Then she could go back to buying groceries like a regular person. And maybe Helen would forget to call. Then Eliza could put this whole thing behind her. What a stroke of luck that would be.
Of course, Eliza rarely had any luck at all.
* * *
“And I can’t say anything about the enchantment, like, ever?” Eddie asked (for the fifth time) from the back seat of Jake’s car.
“Like you, the woman has some privacy concerns. It’s actually a very good situation for both of you, Eddie. I know you were worried—”
“I’m not worried,” he said. “But what if we end up getting married and I have to keep this secret from her our whole lives?”
“Some say that secrets are the key to a happy marriage,” Eliza said. She couldn’t imagine that Yolanda and Eddie would last more than five minutes once the enchantment faded.
“Okay, but what if I bleed? Like, really bleed? I mean, I’m not worried, but you should have a backup plan, just in case.”
She fiddled with the collar of her red polo shirt—a close enough match for the Red Clover uniform—and glanced across the car at Jake. He hadn’t said a word since they’d climbed into the car’s close quarters, and judging by the whites of his knuckles on the steering wheel, sitting this close to her—even covered in a layer of her mother’s floral perfume—was taking a toll on him.
“Eddie, we talked about this. There’s no way you will bleed. I swear.”
“Eliza has it under control.” Jake’s deep voice held a hint of finality, and for once, Eddie shut up. Of course, he was exactly the type of jerk who’d question a well-qualified woman for hours but take a man’s five-word response as gospel.
Jake pulled into a small neighborhood park located across the st
reet from Yolanda’s house. “I’m going to get some air,” he said.
“What’s his deal today?” Eddie asked. “Jake’s usually so chill.”
“I don’t know,” Eliza lied. She watched Jake pace up and down the street with his hands laced together over his head. “Must be having a rough afternoon.”
“Well, let’s do this, I guess,” Eddie said.
“We have to wait for the agent to arrive.”
“Oh, right.”
Eliza turned in her seat to look at Eddie, who wore a matching red polo and the expression of a kid who’d just watched Pet Sematary at a sleepover and had to pretend he wasn’t scared. “You okay?” she asked.
The last thing she needed was for him to freak out and screw this up. She was already juggling enough potential catastrophes for one day—no, for one lifetime.
“Let’s go over it one more time.” The tremor in Eddie’s voice was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him. “I mean, so I know that you know what you’re doing.”
Eliza forced her eyes to the ceiling of her car to keep from rolling them. “I hide on the porch. You—”
“Maybe it’s best for someone a little more, uh, experienced to handle things.” Eddie stared out the window at Jake.
For a breath, Eliza’s confidence withered, making her feel like a plant someone had given up on watering. Maybe she should just give up too. Throw herself into the garbage can before all the neighbors saw how ugly things were about to become. But then she remembered her father’s face when she’d told him she wanted to get her license. She remembered Jake’s unwavering confidence in her abilities.
Eliza unbuckled her seat belt and leaned closer to Eddie. “Listen. We can go with the plan we’ve discussed at least six times, or I can take the groceries in myself while you catch the bus home.”
Now it was Eddie’s turn to wilt. He kept his gaze trained on his hands as he pushed open the car door and grabbed the bags from the seat beside him. “There’s the government dude. Let’s go before the ice cream melts.”
