by Amanda Heger
“Jake.” She stopped pacing and stared at his face. It was so beautiful and hopeful, and she resented it oh so much. “Are you running for the Cosmic Council this term?”
“What?”
“The Cosmic Council. The deadline was yesterday. Are? You? Running?”
“I… Well, I thought about it, and…” He ran a hand over the top of his head. His tell. Vic had been right.
“Decided it was too risky to run with a scandal following you?” She crossed her arms, as much to close herself off as to hold herself together.
“Eliza—”
“That’s it, isn’t it? It would ruin your chances now that everyone, and I mean everyone, knows you enchanted your mentee without her permission?”
Jake closed his eyes. His dark eyelashes fluttered the smallest bit, and Eliza had to force away the memory of how he’d looked when he was sleeping. Content. Peaceful. Exquisite. Little did she know he was about to blow her life to smithereens. “That is part of it, yes.”
Until that very moment, Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been hoarding a tiny sliver of hope. That minuscule piece of her had wanted him to deny all of it, pull her to his chest, and reassure her that everything she’d ever felt for him had been real. Now that part of her was dead and gone.
How could he have done this to her? Lied for so long?
She may have enchanted him first, but that was an accident. And he knew about it.
“How did it happen? Did you stick me with a lancet when I wasn’t looking? A paper cut?” Pain spiraled out of her, so fierce and intense she couldn’t see straight.
“Eliza, please.”
“Did you do it before or after I enchanted you? Am I still enchanted?” Hot, salty tears poured down her face and gathered at the edge of her lip. “Did I actually enchant you, or was that just part of your lie too?”
“You did enchant me,” he whispered.
“Tell me then, am I still enchanted? When is it going to end? When am I going to stop feeling like this?”
Jake’s face hardened. His fingers closed around the back of the couch and squeezed. “Do you feel enchanted right now, Eliza?”
“I don’t know what I feel. Everything is so mixed up.” She rubbed her eyes, and her fingers came back smudged with mascara. Oh well. She didn’t care whether he found her attractive anymore. She wanted him to see exactly how much pain he’d caused her. “How could you do this?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?” She took up pacing again. “But Vic said—”
“Let me guess. Vic said that I enchanted you in secret. Agent Oliver found out, and I had to withdraw from the election.”
Eliza sniffed. “More or less.”
“Well, good. At least someone bought the lie.” Jake let out a heavy sigh. “I really didn’t think Oliver believed it.”
Confusion swirled in Eliza’s stomach, still tinged with nausea but also relief. It was like stepping off a roller coaster after eating too much cotton candy. “Bought what?”
“Can you sit down, please? You’re making me nervous.”
She sat, despite her better judgment.
“That day that Agent Oliver saw us, uh—”
“Groping on the hood of your car?”
“I was going to say ‘saw us kissing,’ but yes.” Jake’s shoulders relaxed a little. “After I dropped you off, I went to his office.”
“You told me not to contact him!” Indignation reared its ugly head once again, and she crossed her arms.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. But on the way home, I started to panic, thinking about you getting your permit revoked. I drove over there, just to see if he’d seen anything. Long story short, he’d seen a lot. So I lied. I told him I’d enchanted you in secret, and that he shouldn’t hold the kiss against you. I even offered to step away as your mentor if that would help.”
The tips of her fingers ran cold. He’d lied. To a government official. For her. “You did?”
Jake nodded. “He filed an incident report but let me stay on as long as I promised to not let anything happen again. And…”
“And what?”
“And I couldn’t run for the Cosmic Council after that. Because if I ran, that would get people digging into my background. They’d find the report, and I’d be thrown out of the race. Oliver would be in trouble too.”
“Why would he be in trouble?” Eliza asked.
“Because technically, he’s my boss. Intentional enchantment without consent is a serious violation. He probably should have fired me.”
Eliza dropped her hands to her lap and stared at them. She couldn’t bring herself to look Jake in the eye. “That’s not what I expected.”
The couch cushions shifted as Jake sat down beside her. “Really, he let me off pretty easily, and look—it worked. You have your license, right?”
She did. But Jake had had to give up the one thing he really wanted—a spot on the Cosmic Council—in order for her to get it. And for what? All of her enchantments had gone so far off the rails that she didn’t even know if she wanted a license anymore.
Once again, she’d ruined someone’s life with her “gift.” And this one hurt way worse than any of the others. Not to mention she hadn’t asked for this. Any of it.
How dare he? She hadn’t wanted to be a licensed Cupid. Or his excuse for not following his dreams. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.
“You’re right. I should have told you.”
“No. I mean you shouldn’t have done it at all.” Her chest burned as she swallowed back her angry sobs. She wasn’t going to break down. Not here. Not now. If she did, Jake would try to comfort her, and being in his arms would only make the pain that much deeper. “We shouldn’t be doing this at all.”
Jake hooked his index finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “What are you saying, Eliza?”
She jerked away. “I’m saying this is a mistake. We’re a mistake. You gave up a seat on the Cosmic Council for me. You’re ruining your life for me.”
“I’m not—”
“And what’s going to happen six months from now when you realize how much you gave up? We probably won’t even be together then. And you’ll be left with, what? A lot of resentment and a job as a deliveryman for the Department? I don’t think so.” The words poured out of her, faster and faster, until she wasn’t even sure what she was saying. “This was all a huge mistake. I’m quitting the Cupid business, and we need to break up.”
“Eliza, just listen to me.”
“No.” If she listened, she’d cave. And if she caved, Jake’s entire career would be over. She had to stay strong, get out of here, and set things right with the Department. Maybe it was too late for Jake to run in this election, but if she could straighten things out with Agent Oliver, maybe Jake would have a chance down the road.
Eliza pushed herself off the couch with shaking arms and grabbed her things. “I have to go. I’m sorry, Jake. Thank you for everything.”
“Wait, please.”
She didn’t look him in the eye as she pried open the front door. “Tell your friend at CCAR to look into Egg Salad Saga, okay? If anyone got into their research, that’s who.”
“Eliza, please.”
She stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind her.
“Goodbye, Jake,” she whispered to no one at all.
* * *
Eliza woke up in her apartment with puffy eyes and a voicemail on her cell phone.
“Hi, this is Mitch Johansen returning your call from yesterday. Look, I appreciate your hard work, but I think it’s time to let this whole thing go. I’ve been staying with my cousin Stu. He’s been keeping me busy with activities at the Villas. Bingo, water aerobics, technology classes, the works. We’re even taking a field trip to the zoo in a few hours. Anyw
ay, I’ve got a feeling that Lily and I weren’t meant to be. I might even try my hand at meeting a few ladies at the zoo today. I know it probably seems sudden, but who knows how much time I have left? You can let Lily know, right? I just can’t talk to her these days.”
Apparently, Eliza had gone from matchmaker to divorce negotiator in the span of a few days. Poor Lily. Eliza pulled her covers up over her head and sank further into the dark. Maybe she could sleep for the next six months and wake up when all of this had passed.
Her phone buzzed.
She closed her eyes.
It buzzed again.
Her head throbbed.
One more buzz, and curiosity got the better of her. She peered out from under the blankets and grabbed her phone. Jake’s tiny photo was on her screen, his words beside it.
Eliza, we need to talk.
I’m sorry.
Her heart twisted with longing, then suddenly tightened like a fist in her chest. “Ugh. Leave. Me. Alone.” She pitched the phone to the bottom of the bed. Or rather, she tried. Instead, it bounced off the mattress, hit the corner of her bedpost, and the screen shattered, rendering it completely unusable.
“At least I won’t have to deal with that anymore,” she muttered. But her body and mind wouldn’t let her sleep. All she did was vacillate between thoughts of Jake’s stupid face and poor, sweet Lily Johansen spending her last years alone and heartbroken. “Gods damn it.”
She tossed off the covers and headed for the shower. Mitch Johansen would be at the zoo looking to move on today, and Eliza needed to stop him.
At 10:01 a.m., Eliza pushed through the turnstiles of the Gold Lea Zoo. At 10:02 a.m., the rain started. The sky turned gray, and families flocked toward the parking lot.
Fitting.
She’d been to the zoo dozens of times growing up, usually on days like this. At least, all the times she’d gone after her eighth birthday. Most families went to the zoo on sunny days, watching the animals with delighted squeals as the kids ate ice cream and the parents tried to subtly impart educational information. But because of Eliza’s inability to function in crowds without creating mass chaos, her family stuck to the gray, gloomy days. Fewer people on the premises meant fewer chances for disaster.
Even as a grumpy, emo teenager, she’d enjoyed coming here alone. Some days, she’d go straight to the ape house and watch the gorillas watching her. She’d sit on the bench outside their enclosure for hours while Zeus ripped open the skies with lightning and thunder.
The wet pebblestone beneath her feet brought Eliza straight back to her teenage years. For the sake of tradition, she bought a lemonade at the first snack stand in her path and then continued on, searching for any sign of an elderly tour group.
Please don’t tell me they’ve left.
But the farther she walked, the less familiar things became. Exhibits had moved and changed since Eliza’s last visit, and soon enough, she found herself standing in a downpour in front of the children’s petting zoo.
She scanned the area, searching for a map or a hapless zoo employee who could point her in the right direction. But, of course, no one else in their right mind wandered the zoo on a day like this. With a sigh, she pushed open the door to the petting zoo and stepped inside. Someone in there could show her the way, and at least it would be dry—
Oh gods. It was packed with children. Gobs of them. They ranged from unbalanced toddlers to upper-elementary-school kids, and they swarmed the place with their sticky hands and happy squeals. Even a few parents got in on the excitement, clapping their hands and taking photos of their offspring with armadillos and goats.
A teenage zoo employee manned a podium a few feet from the door. She stood with her back hunched over her phone and the collar of her yellow polo shirt flipped up around the left side of her neck.
Eliza tiptoed her way through the throng. Even though most of these kids were toddlers, it couldn’t hurt to be careful. Besides, there were enough moms and dads hanging around that Eliza was sure she could cause a marital disaster if she bumped into the wrong person. “Excuse me?” she called over the din.
The employee didn’t look up from her phone. Light from the screen illuminated her pointy features, and as she got closer, Eliza recognized the music blaring from the device: the telltale sound of Egg Salad Saga.
“Hello?” Eliza tried again.
“Six dollars.” The girl—her name tag read Rachel—held out one hand, but her gaze never left the phone screen.
“Actually, I…” Eliza struggled to be heard over the children—who’d seemed to grow even louder and squealier—and the music coming from the phone.
“Cash or card?” The girl swiped at her screen so quick her finger was almost a blur. This girl was an Egg Salad ninja or something.
“I’m looking for a map.”
“Six dollars.”
“For a map?”
“No, for admission. Cash or card?” Rachel said.
Talking to a brick wall would get Eliza further than this. “Can you put down the phone, please? It’s really for your own good.”
Gods, twenty-nine years old, and Eliza was already acting like a grandma. Next, she’d be complaining about school taxes and eating Werther’s Originals from the bottom of her purse.
Come to think of it, she already did the Werther’s thing.
“What was that?” Rachel’s eyes flicked up for a millisecond before they darted back down to the game. The irritating music slowed, and a strange cracking sound—like thirteen eggshells breaking at once—came from the phone. “Damn it. I can’t get past this level.”
Eliza stretched her hand over the phone screen. Yes, it was rude and invasive, but she’d come to the end of her very frayed rope. “Where are the maps?”
The girl’s expression changed from annoyance to shock so quickly Eliza wondered if she’d sprouted horns and a tail. But there was no time to check for new appendages, because the children’s squeals grew louder and more chaotic.
Eliza turned. Dozens of tiny feet pounded in her direction, but the children weren’t the only ones making that horrible noise. The biggest squeal came from the rotund, pink pig tearing her way. A very familiar pig. One who’d appeared in quite a few of her text messages over the last few days.
“Charleston?” Eliza bent down as the pig pressed its snout into her leg. “What…? How…?” Her emotions were overloading. Confusion, disbelief, relief—they were almost as loud as the kids running over to pet Charleston’s hairy back.
“Not again.” Rachel set down her phone (hallelujah!) and came around to the front of the podium. “Everybody, get back, please. Give me some space. Come on, Porky. You’ve got to stay in your pen.”
“Wait.” Eliza bent down to hug Charleston around the neck. He nuzzled into her ear, letting out happy little snorts. “Where did you get this pig?”
“He’s new. Having a little trouble adjusting to life in the petting zoo, huh, Porky? It’s better than being bacon, trust me.” She reached for the pig.
Eliza’s heart beat at the speed of light. She clung to Charleston, and believe it or not, he snugged up against her. It was like he remembered her. Oh schnikes. The last time Eliza had seen Charleston—
No. She’d had a lot of weird Cupid mishaps in her life, but she had not enchanted a pig.
Probably.
“This is my friend’s pig.” She hugged Charleston closer. He let out a contented snort into her neck. “She’s been looking for him everywhere.”
Rachel shrugged. The movement was so typically teenage that Eliza almost felt sorry for the girl. Back then, Eliza had probably tried to seem just as indifferent to the world.
“I can call a manager if you want, ma’am, but I doubt this is your friend’s pig.” Rachel reached for the collar hanging around Charleston’s neck. Plain red, not a bedazzlement in sight. Yolanda wou
ld have a hypertensive crisis. “We make sure to confirm ownership of all animals.”
“Please call the manager.”
“Great.” Rachel sighed. Obviously she found it anything but. “Let me take Porky back to his pen. Then I’ll call someone.”
Eliza sat at the edge of the pen, while Charleston ignored the children to lie in a pile of hay near her feet. By the time the manager showed up, the rain had let up and most of the families had fled the petting zoo.
“Someone is having an issue with Porky?”
Eliza turned. She’d know that voice anywhere. He’d made her childhood a torment of teasing and rumors, and then he’d had the nerve to show up at her licensing exam with the intent to trick her. To be fair, the Department had made him trick her. But Jonathan Ellis could have helped an old lady cross the street, discovered time travel, and cured cancer, and Eliza would still hold on to her childhood grudge.
“Actually, I’m having trouble with Charleston Samuel Durst the Third.”
“Eliza?” He blinked a few times, and she couldn’t help but think of Yolanda’s Mandroid. Eliza even liked Jacque better than Jonathan Ellis.
“Yes. And this pig belongs to my friend Yolanda.”
“According to the paperwork we got from the Humane Society, he belongs to the Gold Lea Zoo.”
“Okay, but this pig was pignapped. Taken from his home and his very upset mother.” Eliza reached down and petted Charleston’s hairy back. “Please do the right thing. Just this once.”
He crossed his arms. “Do you have some kind of proof of ownership? Registration papers? Photos? Anything?”
“Yes!” She reached for her phone. No one would be able to deny it was the same pig once they saw the photos Yolanda had forwarded… “Shit. I have photos, but my phone is broken.”
Jonathan shrugged. “I’m sure you can understand my dilemma here. If I let everyone who claimed to own one of our animals just walk out of here with them—”
“How many people really claim to own one of your petting zoo animals?”
Jonathan raised his eyebrows at her. “You’d be surprised.”
“Allow me to rephrase. How many people over the age of ten claim to own one of your petting zoo animals?”
