Chapter 2 That Man Has An Arrow!
♥ ISABEL'S POV
I glared at him as he crossed the shelves.
He stopped at the romance shelf, pulled out a book, turned it over, and stared at the cover as though he'd never seen one before.
“You've never read one of those before, have you?” I asked, folding my arms as I followed him closely.
There was no way I was letting him wander around my bookstore unsupervised.
I couldn't trust a man who showed up without an appointment, knew my name, and refused to tell me who had sent him. For all I knew, he could be a potential stalker.
Or worse, he could be one of those men my parents had hired to convince me that I desperately needed a relationship.
He glanced at me over his shoulder.
“I've read thousands of these kinds of books.”
I scoffed. “Then why are you holding it upside down, dummy?”
His eyes dropped to the book.
It was, in fact, upside down.
He quietly turned it around. “It's all about perspective.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.”
He returned the book to the shelf.
I went back to my paperwork, already too irritated by his mere presence to bother looking at him again.
A minute passed.
I tapped my fingers impatiently against the counter and glanced at the clock.
Thirty minutes.
That was how long he had before I threw him out of my store and closed for the night.
I had barely finished signing one document when I became aware of him standing near the counter again.
Watching me.
I slowly looked up. “Are you going to keep staring at me?”
“I wasn't staring.”
“Oh, really?”
“I was simply observing.”
“Ugh. That's worse.”
He leaned casually against the counter. “You seem like a difficult woman.”
My pen stopped moving. “Excuse me?”
“I meant you seem like a lovely—”
I put the pen down and walked around the counter until I was standing directly in front of him.
“You walked into my store without an appointment, asked for me by name, told me you were sent by someone you refuse to identify, spent several minutes examining romance novels upside down, and now you're insulting me.”
He considered that. “When you list it like that, you make me sound suspicious.”
“Newsflash. You are suspicious.”
“I assure you, I'm not.”
“Said by every suspicious person who has something to hide.”
He sighed.
For the first time since he'd walked into the bookstore, his expression lost its playful edge.
“Okay. I need to explain something to you.”
“I'm not interested in whatever you're selling.”
“You see, you've been assigned to me.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
What was this fool on about now?
“You're my assignment,” he said boldly.
I stared at him.
Then I glanced toward the front door.
Maybe I could make a run for it before he pulled out a gun or something.
He looked like the kind of man who could either be a harmless idiot or a complete lunatic. Given my luck, probably the second one.
“I'm sorry,” I said carefully. “But what exactly do you mean by assignment?”
“I've been sent to help you.”
Okay.
Now I was completely lost.
“Help me? Do I look like I'm begging for alms? Help me with what, exactly?”
“Love,” he said softly.
My face cracked. Then I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
It was the first genuine laugh I'd had all day.
His expression brightened as though he'd just accomplished something important. “You laughed.”
“Yeah, because I finally understand.” I tried to catch my breath. “You're a ridiculous clown.”
His smile disappeared. “You don't believe me.”
“Should I?”
“Yes. You should.”
“Oh, really?”
He glanced around the bookstore, as though checking whether anyone else was listening.
Then he reached inside his coat.
My amusement vanished as I straightened.
Wait a minute.
Was he actually reaching for a gun?
“What are you doing?” I took a cautious step backward.
“Don't worry. After I'm done with you, you'll thank me.”
“Please tell me that's a business card you're reaching for.”
“It isn't a business card.”
He pulled out something long and golden.
For a second, I thought it was some kind of decorative letter opener.
Then I saw the feathers.
My amusement disappeared completely.
It was an arrow.
A real arrow.
Except no ordinary arrow should have looked like that.
The shaft carried a faint golden glow, while the metal tip caught the light in a strange, almost unnatural way. Beneath the tip was a tiny heart-shaped marking.
I stared at it. Then at him.
He was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. “You can see it?”
I frowned. “Obviously.”
His fingers tightened around the arrow. “You can actually see it?”
“Yes. I'm not blind.”
He looked genuinely disturbed. “But that's impossible. You're human, aren't you?”
“As far as I know.”
I eyed the strange object in his hand. “I can't say the same for you, though. Carrying that thing around while dressed like a town clown. Do you even have a license for that?”
He looked at the arrow.
Then back at me.
“Humans aren't supposed to see this.”
My patience finally snapped. “Okay. Fun time is over. Get out of my store now.”
He didn't move.
“I said Now.”
Instead, he reached beneath his coat again.
This time, when his hand emerged, he was holding a bow.
I stared at it. “Oh, you've got to be kidding me.”
He fitted the glowing arrow onto the string.
My eyes widened.
“Whoa, buddy. Hold up.” I stepped backward. “What are you doing?”
“I need to test something.”
“Absolutely not!” Then I pointed toward the door. “Get out of my store right now, or I'm calling the police. And I'm sure you don't want that.”
“I won't hurt you.”
“Okay. Then put that thing down.”
“I promise you won't feel a thing.”
“I know!” I gritted my teeth. “Because I'll be unconscious after you shoot me!”
“No one dies from a Cupid's arrow. It doesn't even hurt.”
I stared at him. “A Cupid's arrow?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
I sighed heavily.
Could this night get any crazier?
“Oh, you're one of those.”
“One of what?” he asked.
“People who commit to a joke for far too long.”
“This isn't a joke.”
“Fine. Let me guess. Since you're holding a Cupid's arrow, that makes you what?” I raised an eyebrow. “A Cupid?”
“Yes. You're so smart.”
I folded my arms. “Aren't Cupids supposed to be babies with wings in diapers?”
His eyebrows lifted. “That is an incorrect representation of Cupids that humans created themselves.”
“Right.”
“And as for the wings, I do, in fact, have mine.”
“Wonderful.” I carefully picked up my phone from the counter. “I'm done with this conversation.”
I pointed toward the door. “Cupid, you have five seconds to leave my bookstore before I dial the police.”
“But I thought I'd explained everything to you.”
“Five.”
“I'm trying to help you.”
“Four.”
“You've shut yourself off from love.”
“Three.”
“And I'm supposed to change that.”
“Two.”
His expression suddenly became completely serious.
“One.”
I pressed the call button. “Your time is up.”
The phone began ringing.
And then he suddenly released the arrow.
My body reacted before my brain could process what was happening.
I threw up one hand.
The arrow struck my palm.
And stopped.
I stared at it with wide eyes.
The golden shaft trembled between my fingers, glowing brightly against my skin.
For the first time that evening, I couldn't think of anything sarcastic to say.
“What the…”
A woman's voice came through the phone. “911, what's your emergency?”
I looked from the glowing arrow in my hand to the man standing several feet away.
His face had gone completely blank.
“I need help evicting someone from my store,” I said into the phone. “He's… crazy, and he just shot me with an arrow.”
“Okay, ma'am. I need you to stay calm. Can you give me your address so we can send help?”
I slowly looked at the culprit.
“Miller & Finch Books. Melrose Street, right after the town hall.”
“Okay. We'll be with you shortly.”
The call ended.
I lowered my phone and held the arrow out toward him. “I think your Cupid arrow thingy is broken.”
He didn't take it from me.
“That's never happened before.”
“What? Someone calling the cops on you?” I asked.
“You caught it.”
I looked at the arrow in my hand. “Obviously.”
“You caught a Cupid's arrow.”
“You sound so shocked.” Then I waved my free hand at myself. “But in case you haven't noticed, I have hands.”
“You shouldn't even be able to touch it.”
I stared at the arrow. “Apparently, nobody told my hands that.”
He finally reached for it.
His fingers closed around the shaft.
They were trembling a little.
That was the first thing he'd done all evening that made me genuinely uneasy.
I studied him carefully. “Look. What exactly are you really doing here?”
He met my eyes. “I told you. I'm a Cupid.”
I stared at him blankly.
Fine.
If he wanted to continue pretending to be insane, I was happy to let the police deal with him.
Then the coffee machine behind us suddenly switched on.
I jumped.
A low machine hum filled the bookstore.
“What the—”
Before I could finish, the machine began making a cup of coffee.
My eyes went wide.
A moment later, the cup pushed itself forward. It slid across the counter and stopped directly in front of me.
I stared at it in shock.
Three words had appeared across the cup in dark brown letters.
EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE MUCH?
My mouth fell open. Then I looked at the cup.
Then at Edward.
He was staring at it too.
“That,” he said slowly, “wasn't me.”
I summoned the courage to pick up the cup and turned it around, inspecting every inch of it.
There was no one behind the coffee counter.
No one else in the store. Except from Kara who was not currently in here with us.
And absolutely no logical explanation for what had just happened.
I was genuinely speechless.
I didn't believe in magic or magic tricks.
And I certainly didn't believe in Cupids.
But whoever this man was, something very strange had just happened in my bookstore.
And somehow, I had a feeling it had something to do with him.
~
