22. Caleb

TWENTY-TWO

Caleb

Twenty-two forty-seven… forty-nine… fifty-one. I came to a stop outside the unassuming office, letting my senses reach out and inspect the interior. The small waiting room held two normal human women and one quarter-elf man, plus a receptionist who was part… goblin? Interesting. They weren’t held in terribly good standing in the magical community, though I’d always thought they got an unnecessarily bad rap.

Finding one working here was a good sign. My hand was on the door handle when my phone rang.

“Hey, Josie.” I waited to see her state of mind. She hadn’t been the same since the shock of the landlord removing her cats yesterday morning , and I’d been working around the clock ever since to fix it.

“Hey, Caleb. Are you coming by today?” Her voice was quiet. I could tell she needed company.

“Yep. I’m almost done with my plan for the cats. How is operation fix-up-the-taxes going?”

Her voice broke as she said, “It’s not.”

I let the door handle go and leaned my back against the glass window instead. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand any of this. The filing is complicated, the forms are ninety million miles long, and I don’t even know how much I need to pay! How can I fix what I don’t understand?”

“There has to be someone who can help you with it.”

“I called the small-business support line, but they are all booked up and can’t help until next week. By next week, Caleb, the Bookish Cat will only be an empty shell!”

I sucked in a breath, knowing that I had to be careful with my next words. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. And things are desperate, Josie.”

“Are you going to suggest again that I contact my family? Because I thought I made it very clear that?—”

“I can feel your frustration from here.” Literally. I was so attuned to her aura that I could pick it up from anywhere on this continent. Her frustration and despair were a thick, dark cloud. “Only your family gets you that level of twisted up, but this has to be about the bigger picture. I hope you’ll at least consider calling one of them.”

“They told me I’d never make the Bookish Cat work. I’m not about to prove them right.”

I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows, unsure how much to meddle and how much to listen. Being a good angelic friend was hard sometimes. “What about Fred?”

“What about Fred?”

“Remember what he said at Nana Geraldine’s party? He was warming up to the idea of the shop and even said he might want to stop by. He’s also a CPA. Maybe you call him and just ask if he’s familiar with the form and can give you some tips. You don’t actually have to tell him the problem, if you don’t feel like he’ll be understanding. But there was improvement, an olive branch between you two at the party. Maybe calling and asking for his help could be another one.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” I could hear the uncertainty, and it broke my heart. No matter how much encouragement I gave her, though, she had to be the one to make the choice. The choice to reach out, to open up.

“You don’t have to. It’s just an option. If that one doesn’t work for you, you’ll find one that will.”

“Right, of course. I should probably let you get to your appointment. I’m making you late.”

“I’ve always got time for you, Josie. Late or no.”

“You’re sweet. Go. I’ll figure this out.”

I smiled at the determination in her voice. That was my girl. She never gave up, no matter the odds. It was part of what had drawn me to Josie in the first place. She had spunk .

“Yes, you will. Talk soon.”

“Bye.”

I hustled into the office and gave the receptionist my name. She was petite, the tips of her ears barely pointed—a fact that was hidden in plain sight by a cleverly placed piercing—and her eyes were a deep purple, but there was no hint of the green skin that most goblins had.

“Dr. Elwyn will be with you shortly. If you’ll just take a seat.” She smiled and pointed me to the waiting area.

Dr. Elwyn didn’t keep me waiting long. She called me back herself, wearing a white coat and purple patterned scrubs. I followed her to the end of a long hallway, to the very last patient-treatment room.

“So, Mr. Starr, what can I help you with?” She tilted her head to the side. “I get the feeling you’re not here for my Western medicinal services. Though, frankly, I’m not sure what I can offer that you couldn’t do for yourself.” She propped one hip on the small counter and cocked an eyebrow at me in question.

“You’re correct. I’m not personally in need of your services. I’m wondering if you can help someone else for me, though. And I’m open to your preferred method of help, Western or otherwise .” She smiled at that, a sparkle of her inherent magic playing over her skin before she quickly reined it back in. “He’s proven a tough nut to crack, and I think you’re the one for the job.”

“Why can’t you help him?”

“Well, for starters, I’m not an allergist. He’s got a pretty severe cat allergy, but…”

“But what? Don’t think I don’t know what you are, cupid .”

I held up both hands in a placating gesture. “I wouldn’t dream of underestimating you, or your magic, which is why I’m here. If you’re willing to see him, he’s just walked in the front door. The ‘but’ was about you and what I might be able to do for you in exchange for helping Mr. Anderson.”

She scoffed, turning to straighten the long cotton-tipped swabs in a glass jar on the counter, her aura turning scarlet. I still had to convince her.

“Dr. Elwyn… Angie, I know you’re aware that certain angels have extra powers. But are you aware that cupids can do more than just make people fall in love?”

She froze, hand on top of the swabs, the little sterile pouches crinkling under the weight of her hand.

I could tell exactly what she wanted. “Your case is advanced, but I’m able to regenerate nearly any reproductive tract organ and restore fertility. If you would want that, of course. I would never overstep in that way if you didn’t?— ”

She spun, both hope and terror in her eyes. “I do. I want you to do whatever it is you do and fix me. Please. I’ll take care of your friend’s allergies if you can help me.”

I nodded. “I would do this for you, even if you couldn’t help him. Just so you’re aware, this isn’t a quid-pro-quo situation.” She nodded rapidly, not at all concerned with what I was offering her, or asking for her help with. “You may feel some discomfort, and you should probably lie down. I’ll do my best to make it quick, but as I said, your case is severe, and regrowth?—”

She grabbed my hand, shocking me into silence, the feel of her witch’s magic brushing against my power was unusual. It had an earthy quality, almost like brushing my hand through tall, downy grass.

“It’s worth the pain. Do what you need to,” she said resolutely as she lay down on the procedure table.

I nodded and closed my eyes. My hands hovered over her abdomen, and she didn’t make a single noise as I worked. Sweat beaded on my forehead, nothing moving but the hands on the wall clock. Once I was finished, I sagged back against the wall.

“Is it done? Did it work?” Her voice was hoarse, and she didn’t move from the table.

“It’s done.”

“How long until…?”

“You’ll be experiencing a greater than average surge of fertility for the next twelve or so days as a result of the lingering divinity in your body. After that, your normal cycles will resume, and your chances of conception will be the same as any other healthy female your age.”

It wasn’t hope that lit her features now, but determination. “Twelve days. I can work with that.”

She strode to the door, giving no sign that she was fatigued or in lingering pain from the intensive work I’d just done on her. She propped it open and called down the hall to her receptionist. “Bring back Mr. Anderson, please, Tiffy!” She turned back to me, where I was still sagging against her wallpaper, drained after the effort it took to help her. “You’d better skedaddle. I’ve got a lot to do with this man and not much time to do it in.”

I stepped into the hallway, trying not to grin as I walked toward the exit. I pulled my hat down low over my face as I walked past Josie’s landlord, not wanting to color his impression of the place by seeing me and connecting it with his troubles.

I slowed down, shamelessly eavesdropping as Dr. Elwyn greeted him.

“Mr. Anderson,” she purred. “It’s lovely to meet you. I see here that you’ve got a severe cat allergy. You’re in luck. I’ve got a new allergy medicine which alleviates symptoms in as little as seven days.”

And then began the fireworks.

Knew it.

As I suspected, attraction flared between the two of them, kindled by mutual hope as well as compatibility.

It wasn’t easy finding an allergist in Seattle who augmented her Western medicine with magic. But it was even harder finding a single one who was compatible with the very persnickety Mr. Anderson.

But what was the point of being a cupid—even a fallen one—if I couldn’t bring together two lonely people, each of them needing something from the other? It was some of my best work, and if I wasn’t mistaken, within a matter of days, those two lonely hearts would be singing a whole different tune.

Now, I just had to tell Josie that I’d solved her cat problem and try to help her deal with the tax situation. But I was holding out hope that she’d reconnect with Fred. I could already tell it would be good for both of them, as long as they were ready to set their egos aside. He could help her far more than I ever could.

Unfortunately, cupids didn’t hold any sway with the IRS.