Cupid's Granddaughter

1 - It Starts in a Bar

"Wait...what?"

I rolled my eyes at him then pointed to the girl.

"I can't take your money."

"You already did," I said setting down my now empty glass. "Have a good night." I stood up from my chair feeling the square pack of cigarettes in my pocket.

"Wait," my client called grabbing my arm. I gave him a glare and he let me go. "I don't even know your name."

I forced a smile more than ready to leave. "It's hers that you want to know."

I walked over to the door but before I pushed it open to leave, I turned around and watched as the guy looked down at the bill in his hands then walked over to the distressed girl.

"Hey, let me pay for your drink," he offered putting a gentle hand on her back. I smiled to myself as I saw the girl nod slowly.

I turned back around and shoved open the door feeling the cold night air bite my skin. I took a few steps forward letting the door slam behind me without care. I looked both ways on the street and noted that traffic was minimal, a very unusual sight to see in Brooklyn.

I pulled out my pack of Camels and grabbed one from the three remaining in the pack. I sighed and shoved the rest of them back into my pocket. I grabbed my lighter from my other pocket and set the cigarette in between my lips. I flicked the lighter a few times hoping to get the flame started but nothing happened.

"Damnit!" I cursed aloud. I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and ran a frustrated hand through my hair. I angrily shoved the lighter back into my pocket and looked down at the white circular addiction in my hands. I knew I needed to stop because it was a disgusting habit but I could never seem or want to.

"Need a light?" A distinctive and heavenly voice came from behind me. I knew who it was before I even turned around to look.

"Following me at work now?" I couldn't help but ask as I turned to face the voice.

A man was standing there offering a flickering flame. I quickly lit my cigarette and took a long drag. It wasn't until I let out my breath of smoke that he spoke.

"Just making sure that you are doing everything correctly Peyton."

I began walking down the deserted street as my guest kept up with me. "I'm not a kid," I stated letting out another breath of smoke. "I don't have to be babysat."

"Your methods are just very..." the man drifted off and I came to abrupt stop. "Different than mine."

I gave a hard laugh. "Everyone's methods are different than yours Eros."

Eros looked at me and the street lamp shined brightly on his face. He was a handsome man, no one could argue with that. He had dark brown curly hair and a well chiseled face along with bright blue eyes. He didn't look a day over 30.

"Yes," Eros agreed. "It's just that most of my employees wait to see if the people they match up actually click together."

"I'm the only employee related to you by blood," I pointed out throwing my cigarette stub down on the grown and stomping it with my foot. "It's in my DNA to know a good match when I make one. I shouldn't have to waste my time checking something that I know is right."

"You are just as stubborn as your mother," Eros said with a sigh earning himself a glare.

"I am nothing like her," I practically hissed.

"You are more than you think," Eros muttered but I ignored him.

"Is there something I can help you with?"