As the women scamper off, Fate slides in next to Andris, who scoots over to give her space. You don't touch Fate without her permission, even if by accident when sitting next to her. She raises her hand, and a server appears as if they have been waiting for this their entire life, a Piña colada on their tray.
"Excuse me," the young man says. "I thought you'd like this, but I don't know why."
Fate smiles and nods, making him beam back as he places the drink in front of her, complete with a pink umbrella. Then he disappears without remembering to ask for payment. Fate picks up the umbrella and sucks the liquid off the bottom of the stick, and I swear there's a collective gasp around the room as everyone is watching. I only barely avoid rolling my eyes.
Finally, she looks at us, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Hello, boys."
"Hey." I raise an eyebrow. "What brings you here? You don't come to the mortal plane much."
She lifts one shoulder in a dainty shrug. "Even I can get bored. Andris mentioned he was seeing you, so I thought I'd join in. I'm curious about how you're getting on. It's such a novel approach."
I note that Andris has said nothing yet. He's watching the tiny umbrella as she's absently twirling it between her fingertips.
"I'm making progress," I mutter gruffly, not really in a mood to get into details. I have a suspicion she won't think it's a particularly good idea, and half the time I'm inclined to agree. The other half I'm busy kissing Penelope and think little at all.
"It's all so fascinating. You used to be so talented." She takes a sip of her drink. "Ah, humans do know how to make these. So much better than anything we get. You'd think over the centuries we'd have come up with something better than the Nectar of the Gods, which is just a sad excuse for a drink, really."
"No need when we can just get it from the humans." I shrug.
Her face scrunches up in distaste. "I know, but it means I have to come down here, and it's so... dirty."
"It's not so bad." As long as you don't live with bunnies. "And I still think something is inaccurate with this match. It shouldn't be this hard."
After another sip, she licks the froth off her upper lip and gives me an apologetic smile. "I've gone over it again. Since you were the best, and this spectacular failing doesn't seem typical for you."
My hopes are raised for a moment before she continues. "But I have to tell you, the numbers come back correct. It's an eighty-two percent match. Whatever makes them fail is not because of their compatibility numbers."
I sigh. If Fate has personally checked, that's it. The problem is not them, it's me. I've somehow completely lost all matchmaking abilities. No Cupid is expected to make every single match, but I used to. We can drop most matches if they're not happening... Unless they're eighty percent and above. If only they had been a few percent less, I would have dropped their asses years ago.
"I hope this scheme of yours will work," she says encouragingly. "I'd hate to see you demoted after so many years of excellent service."
"Me too." I stare into my now empty beer glass.
"This will succeed," Andris says with more conviction than I have, apparently having found his tongue again. I was beginning to think he'd left it in the blonde.
Fate looks around the bar, catching sight of the aforementioned blonde, before turning her head to Andris with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "This is what you do for fun, Andris?"
Is he blushing? I can't remember a time I've ever seen my friend blush before.
He shrugs. "It's a way to relax."
She smirks. "I bet."
"Not what I meant," he mutters before taking a swig of his beer.
Fate's pearly laughter ring out, causing the bar patrons to turn their heads back toward us again. We work fairly closely with Fate since our jobs overlap, but I can't remember seeing her in this mood before. Most of the time she seems bored and distant. Maybe she needs to come down here to relax more often, just like Andris and some of the other Cupids. Even if most of her job is on autopilot these days, I suspect the parts that are not can be tough. And I suppose even things on autopilot need some sort of supervision. It's amazing that she's alone in her job while there are a couple of dozen Cupids.
"Have another drink," I suggest, and she smiles at me.
"If this fails," she says while watching me as she puts a finger up for another drink. "Would it really be so awful to become a Harbinger? It's not the end of the world."
My brows draw together as I look between her and Andris, who is watching the server coming over with another drink for Fate. "Andris said something similar recently."
"He's not wrong." She gives the server a blinding smile as she accepts a bright pink drink I couldn't even guess what it is. Turning back to me, she takes a sip and sighs happily. "I know you guys think the Harbingers are deadbeats, but they're not so bad, really. I work with them closely at times."
"No one ever moves on from being a Harbinger." Andris makes a face. "And the horns..."
"I think the horns are kind of sexy." When we both stare at her, Fate shrugs. "Looks aren't everything, anyway. All Cupids are too good-looking to remember anything else, but it's true."
"You're one to talk." I can't help but smirk.
She raises her eyebrow at me again. "I'm not the one so desperate to avoid horns I take mortal form to make a match I've failed with for nearly a decade. Have you never considered there might be a reason you keep failing?"
I let out a frustrated huff. "I have! Why do you think I've asked you about it repeatedly? You told me only a few moments ago that their match is correct!"
Seeing Fate roll her eyes is not something I ever expected to see, but there it is. "Some other reason," she says, as if I'm being dense, but what other reason could there possibly be.
"Like her being too taken with you," Andris suggests.
"I've only been here three weeks," I remind them. "This match has failed for years, through many, many attempts."
"Maybe your attempts haven't been as good as you think." Fate takes another sip of her drink as if she didn't just mortally wound me.
"I was the best. The best! I never failed to make a single match before Steve ruined everything!" My outburst makes both of my companions stare at me, and I clear my throat. "I mean, these two humans ruined everything."
"Steve?" Andris smirks. "Who's Steve?"
"Penelope's cat," I mutter. "If it wasn't for him, I'm convinced the match would have happened on the first attempt. It's like he jinxed the whole thing."
"A cat?" I don't appreciate the stifled laughter in his voice. "You never told me you blame everything on a cat!"
"For this exact reason. I don't appreciate being made fun of."
"But—" He bursts out laughing. "A cat!"
Staring into my drink again, I wait for him to stop laughing. It takes longer than I like. Fate looks amused, but at least she's not laughing at me out loud. They don't understand. Steve is clearly evil. It's evident every time he stares at me with those shrewd eyes of his. Penelope usually comes to my apartment, and I'm kind of happy that's the case. I'm not sure I'd be able to make out in front of Steve. Though maybe that'd solve my problem of struggling to keep my hands off Penelope. She might find it kind of strange, so maybe not.
"Maybe," Fate says once Andris's laughter has died down to quiet chuckles. "Just maybe, something about this match didn't feel right to you and you've been sabotaging yourself."
I shake my head. "Why would I do that? Sounds ridiculous. Nothing is worth getting horns for. I've done everything right. The first few years my attempts were classical, things that would have had any other couple done and dusted in no time. I'll admit my work has become sloppier lately, as I've grown more desperate. And yes, this latest scheme is not one of my best ideas. But I'm desperate. Nothing has worked."
"I don't know. It was just a suggestion."
"And we keep returning to this..." I give her a pointed look. "They're an eighty-two percent match. You've checked it yourself."
Am I imagining her gaze avoiding mine for the briefest second? She nods. "Yes. Eighty-two percent."
"What's with the look?"
Her amber eyes lock on mine, and even I—who consider myself relatively immune to her—find myself spellbound and unable to look away. "No look. That's their number on your file."
That's a weird phrasing. "Do they have another number on another file?"
"Why would they have another file?" she asks and stands. "I have work to do. I might come back to see how you're coming along another time."
Before I can ask about her strange choice of words, she's gone, leaving me and Andris staring at the doors she disappeared through. Looking back at my friend, I smile wryly.
"Another drink?"
He nods. "Please."
I order us another round, but I can't shake the feeling there's something Fate isn't telling me.