Cupid's Contract

Sleepover Kit

"How DARE he tell me to take the lift?! Like I'm some sort of invalid! Like I can't climb ten flights of stairs! Probably thinks women are too delicate for exercise! Just like his father!"

It had taken Eve all of twelve minutes to catch her breath and leave the stall. She had almost thrown the glossy white shoe bag on the bathroom counter as she ran cool water over her hands and took in her appearance. To say she looked in disarray was an understatement. Her hair, untamed by any sort of clip or style, was blown back around her face, her usual curls hanging messily around her shoulders. Her cheeks, usually quite pale and milky, were splotched with bright spots of red, her freckles thrown into the spotlight by the gleam of sweat that clung to both her forehead and her upper lip. She looked as though she had just run a marathon, and what little makeup she had managed to apply that morning had competed in a little race of its own, moving down her face in a dogged attempt to reach its own finish line, the usually crisp-white collar of her Peter Pan style dress.

While her appearance should have assuaged the mortification she felt at Harper Junior's suggestion that she take the elevator, as one could argue he had only said so to prevent the impending heart attack she was clearly on the cusp of, it only managed to fuel it. Which is why she found herself, almost half an hour later, in Veronica's small corner office, ranting at the crown of the blonde's head.

"Are you even listening?!" Eve's voice squeaked as it hit a previously unreached octave.

"Yes, yes, of course, you bought him shoes, he thinks you're an invalid slob, give me a moment..." Veronica continued to rummage in her soft black leather bag. A bag which Eve usually drooled over in awe, begging Veronica to let her pet it like it was an exotic baby animal. But today it's soft appearance only reminded her of a punching bag and if Veronica didn't want a concussion she should really stop being the stuffing of said boxing handbag and pay her attention.

"Ah-ha! Here!" She finally emerged from her infinitely bottomed accessory and produced... another, slightly smaller, purse.

"And what, pray tell, is that, Mary Poppins?"

Veronica rolled her eyes at her snarky friend. "My sleepover kit. You know, when you accidentally sleep over at someone's house? The essentials?"

It was Eve's turn to roll her eyes. "Excuse me? And why do you need a sleepover kit? When was the last time you slept anywhere but here?"

"Keep being rude and I won't let you use my hairbrush", she retorted, her eyes flicking pointedly to the halo of horror that surrounded Eve's face.

"Oh Ronnie, boo boo, pretty please, no, wait, pweety pwease help me!" Her voice like cotton candy, dripping in sugar as Eve advanced towards the glittery clutch.

Veronica began to back away, her lip curled in mock distaste. "Do not approach me, peasant!"

Eve dropped to her knees, inching forward, her bare knees rubbing on the carpet. Her accent became a comedic sort of cockney, in no way accurate and entirely offensive to not only English people but also to ears in general.

"Please sir, spare a few bristles for a wee lad!" She began to keen loudly, rocking herself from side to side as she continued to knee-walk towards her colleague, who was laughing so hard she had in fact begun to tear up.

In fact, Ronnie was so caught up in her giggles she could no longer summon the energy to keep pushing her wheeled office chair away from her pathetic friend and, as such, Eve reached her in no time and clamoured up into her lap. Her five foot one frame fit comfortably in Veronica's statuesque lap, not dissimilar to an overgrown child in her mother's lap. Albeit a very glamorous and young mother. It was only as Eve was planting a particularly loud, noisy and wet kiss on Ronnie's tear-stained cheek that they noticed the new arrivals to the office. For there, in the doorway of the small corner office, was Johnny Burton and both Harper men.

If Eve didn't die of mortification then Veronica throwing her from her lap might do it. She hit the ground with a thud, and clambered quickly to her feet, joining her friend as her hips ached.

"Mr. Harper, sir! How are you?" Veronica was eager and professional, and Eve was trying to massage her sore bum without being too obvious. Johnny was blatantly chuckling at the pair, but it was Harper Junior's face that caught her attention. Gone was the serious look from the elevator, and he was chewing his bottom lip, trying not to smile. Eve's anger forgotten, she was tempted to wink at him, but Harper Senior's sharp voice put an end to her merriment.

"Sorry to interrupt, but those of us adults working today are having a meeting in fifteen minutes. I would appreciate your attendance."

"Of course, sir." Veronica's voice was solid, and Eve was impressed because her knees were shaking.

And then all three men were gone.

"What just happened?" Veronica wasn't so solid sounding anymore. Her voice was somewhere between a shriek and a whisper, and more high pitched than Eve had ever hear it before.

"I... uh... I really don't know... Can I borrow your hairbrush though?"

"Fine, but you're buying lunch," she retorted.

Eve squealed as Veronica's sleepover kit hit her square in the face, and Veronica laughed so heartily that Eve couldn't help but join in.

*****

I'm setting a nice update pace now, aren't I? I'm quite proud of myself! :P

Hopefully the quality hasn't suffered in return, but any typos will be picked up as I edit and revise, though I do try and make sure none slip through...

Any advice? Something that needs fixing?

What do people think is going to happen next? Or WANT to happen next?

We haven't seen Cupid in a while, so I need to work him in again... I wonder what he's been up to... Pesky little love deviant.

Thanks for reading and thanks for voting and thanks for being the comments I look forward to every morning when I wake up. I can't thank you all enough, because it does give me a happiness I can explain when I see people reading my little mind wanderings.

Lots of love.

x