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Charming Cupid Page 2


  Confident that my plan was underway, I moved into the holding area and waited to hear my name called. When it was, I stepped out onto the stage and flashed a smile that had always been a crowd pleaser, drawing enthusiastic cheers.

  The emcee read the bio I submitted. When I’d written it, I’d kept it intentionally low-key, not even hitting on the majority of my academic and athletic feats or the athletic performance and recovery devices I’d patented. I never flaunted my success. It wasn’t the Briggs way. Growing up with eight siblings, my father had instilled in all of us to let our successes speak for themselves. He always said that actions were louder than words. Now, knowing that Vanessa was hearing it, I sort of wished I’d put some more thought into crafting the short paragraph.

  The emcee opened the envelope as if he were about to announce the winner of an award. He looked at the card, then shook his head and checked it again. Finally, he said, “Oh, this is unusual. It looks like our highest bidder was anonymous, and has gifted the bid to our very own Dr. Vanessa Cupid.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Vanessa

  Is this…a dream?

  A hallucination?

  What in God’s name is happening right now?

  I stood stock-still as I listened to applause swell. I replayed the MC’s words in my mind, but I still couldn’t decide; had he actually said my name or had I just imagined it?

  Things had been chaotic lately. Not just externally, but internally as well. Ever since my book on dating and relationships hit The New York Times Best Seller list and stayed there for six months, things had been happening at warp speed. It felt like my mind was juggling fifty balls in the air all the time and if I let just one fall then the rest would also crash to the ground.

  I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to know that the current state of my mental health was unstable, at best. I’d been teetering on a meltdown for several months and tonight I may have just pushed myself too far.

  Was this it?

  Was I finally having a nervous breakdown?

  Or worse.

  Was I having some sort of brain aneurysm that was causing me to become delusional?

  Before I could reach a final determination in my own mind, the ominous voice spoke again. “Paging Dr. Cupid. You’re wanted on the stage.”

  Oh, God. I’d actually been rooting for an aneurysm instead of having to go up onto the stage in front of a couple hundred people.

  It wasn’t like I was completely averse to attention. I was a professional. I produced a podcast, had been on a whirlwind book tour, and I often hosted seminars for singles and couples focusing on relationships and intimacy. But those were different. I tolerated having attention focused on my professional skills but this was personal.

  Parading up onto the stage to be stared at during a bachelor auction? That was not my cup of tea at all.

  “Vanessa!” Andy, the sound mixer on my podcast that I’d been hiding backstage with waved his hands in front of my face. “Earth to Vanessa!”

  I blinked several times.

  “They’re calling your name.” He nudged me toward the steps that led up to the stage.

  “Who did this?” I searched Andy’s steel grey eyes looking for answers that he didn’t have.

  His only response was a shrug before he prodded me forward once more as Madison, my assistant, came barreling around the corner. Her long, blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders from the momentum of stopping up short as she skidded to a halt.

  “There you are!” Her fingers released the bunched up material that was keeping her floor-length baby blue gown from tripping her. She reached out for me, wrapping her hand around my forearm. She began to walk in the direction of the stage, attempting to tug me along with her. “They’re calling you.”

  “I know.” I stayed put, not allowing her to lead me anywhere. “Who did this?”

  Madison always had answers and if she didn’t have them she found them out. It made her an incredible assistant. She also had an uncanny and borderline unnerving way of anticipating my needs. I start to yawn and before I finished she’d be there with a cup of coffee. I’d start to scan my desk for my phone and she’d lift a paper revealing its location. I’d get the first pangs of hunger and she’d appear with a bag from Ray’s Deli like a sandwich fairy.

  And even more importantly, she’d been my sounding board, my friend, and my anchor. She’d kept me sane when things were insane around me.

  Her large, blue eyes widened as she shook her head and released her hold on my arm. “I don’t know.”

  Great. This, she didn’t know.

  The emcee once again called my name and I knew that the longer I waited to comply the more awkward the situation would become. I had no choice. Stomach turning, I took a deep breath and forced my shaky legs to move.

  One foot in front of the other. That was what was going through my mind. That and the fact that there were a couple hundred people in the ballroom. The latter wasn’t helping the former.

  With each step I took, my mind raced at who was behind the anonymous bid.

  Was it the media group that produced my podcast and was hosting tonight’s gala?

  No. What would they have to gain from pulling this stunt, besides maybe some funny stories at the watercooler?

  Was it my literary agent? She’d been pushing for me to get into a relationship for content for my next book.

  No. Alexis would never do something like this. I considered her a friend and a friend wouldn’t do this, even if they wanted said friend’s next book to have a more personal spin.

  Who did that leave?

  Was it the PR firm that she’d hired for the book tour?

  No. The team at SBC might’ve had some out-of-the-box ideas for promotion, but they ran everything by me and were respectful when I expressed any hesitancy or discomfort.

  So the question was, who benefits the most from doing this? People tried to set me up all the time, but this was extreme. There had to be a more personal connection.

  My mother?

  All of my success meant nothing to the woman who’d birthed me. The only thing Celia Cupid valued was having a man and a family. It didn’t matter if that man cheated, lied, and drank himself to an early grave, like my father had. My mother was loyal and had dinner on the table every day at six p.m.

  Growing up, I’d felt like I was in a Twilight Zone version of Ozzie and Harriet where Ozzie drank too much and whored around and Harriet cried in the bathroom every night but never spoke up and defended herself. Living under the same roof as the antiquated, 1950s dynamic had taken a toll on me. In my mother’s eyes, love erased all manner of sin, and my father was quite the sinner.

  Every time I saw or spoke to my mother, the only thing she asked about, the only thing she was interested in hearing was if I’d met someone or not. The only other topic of discussion was how much she wanted to be a grandma.

  But would she go to this extreme? These bids were in the thousands.

  My mother did have some money. My father had his flaws, but he had always provided for us. Phillip Cupid was a world renowned author, poet, and professor and when he passed he’d left my mom comfortable. I didn’t know if she was comfortable enough to be wasting thousands of dollars, but then again, I doubted my mother would see it as a waste. She’d consider it an investment.

  But my mom lived hundreds of miles away in a small artists’ community in New Mexico. How could she have done this? She could’ve bid online, but Celia Cupid wasn’t the most tech savvy person in the world.

  None of this made any sense. As I wrapped my fingers around the railing and took the steps up to the platform, another question beat out all of the others. Who had been “donated”? I hadn’t been paying all that much attention until I heard my own name over the PA system.

  Everything had a very dreamlike, if the dream was a nightmare, quality as I stepped onto the stage. The moment my heeled foot hit the stage a bright spotlight shone on my face. I squinted, momentarily
blinded and I stumbled back. All I could think about was the hundreds of pairs of eyes witnessing my lack of grace and I wondered when this nightmare would be over.

  I was still trying to get my bearings when I felt a large hand wrap around my arm and steady me. My eyes were still adjusting to the blinding light so all I could make out was a large figure standing in front of me.

  “Hi, Vanessa. I’m Cooper Briggs.” A deep voice rumbled through me like an earthquake.

  Cooper Briggs.

  The name sounded so familiar to me.

  Then he took my hand in his as my brain continued my brief memory search.

  “But you can call me Coop.”

  Coop. It clicked into place. My college roommate Jade’s best friend from her hometown Wishing Well. He’d been what she’d referred to as her stand-in boyfriend and backup plus one. And if memory served, he’d also been quite the ladies’ man.

  Had Jade done this?

  She was here tonight, she’d organized the entire event. But it still didn’t make any sense. All Jade had ever done was warn me about Coop. She’d told me not to, under any circumstances, fall for his charm. She’d once said that people had a tube of toothpaste longer than he’d been in any relationship.

  So why would she try to set us up?

  I turned my head and searched to find my friend in the crowd but as I did a jolt ran up my arm so intense that I sucked in a sharp breath.

  My eyes shot back to where Coop’s lips were pressed against my knuckles as he kissed the back of my hand. Suddenly, the entire world slowed around me. Everything except my pulse. I couldn’t think as my heart beat with both the strength and chaotic rhythm of a thousand butterflies.

  Then everything around me disappeared when my eyes lifted to his. They were both crystal clear, but one was blue and one was green. They instantly hypnotized me and I felt myself sinking into lust quicksand.

  Oh, no. I’m in trouble.

  Emotions flooded me, ones I’d never experienced firsthand but that I’d seen displayed on the faces and in the eyes of women whose lives were ruled by careless, charming men. I’d seen it in my own mother’s eyes as my father tortured her slowly with his philandering, never letting her drift too far away before reeling her back in with his sparkling eyes and silky words. He’d used her love for him like a weapon and made her stab herself with it again and again, and she was powerless to resist him.

  That was one of the main reasons I’d studied what I had. I’d been on a quest to understand my mother and the reason she’d done what she had. It had become my life’s mission to help men and women find healthy, happy relationships.

  I’d promised myself that I’d never get so completely sucked into a man’s orbit that I couldn’t let him go. I’d never allow my emotions to become so tied to his love that it took over my life or my soul.

  That promise had been easy to keep up until now. I’d never met anyone who filled me with the kinds of sensations that one kiss on the back of the hand and a few words from Cooper Briggs had.

  I had a sinking feeling that if I let this man into my life, I’d never be able to bring myself to push him out. I’d be powerless.

  So…decision made, I thought resolutely. I’d apologize to Jade that she’d spent her money on an elaborate setup, but powerless is the one thing I would never allow myself to be. Which meant I would not be going on a date with Cooper Briggs, donated or not.

  In fact, after tonight, I planned on never seeing him again.

  CHAPTER 3

  Coop

  Six Months Later

  “Welcome to Oasis Hot Springs Resort and Spa! My name is Elizabeth, how can I help you?”

  “Cooper Briggs. I’m checking in.” I gave my name to Elizabeth but was distracted by the full-size cardboard cutout prominently displayed in the middle of the lobby. It was of the only woman I’d been able to think about for the past six months.

  Vanessa Cupid.

  She’d haunted my every waking and sleeping thought since the moment I first saw her. I felt a connection with her that was totally inexplicable.

  Unfortunately, she did not feel the same.

  I’d spent two grand to secure a date with her and she’d avoided any and all attempts I’d made to cash in on it. Each time I contacted her to set up a time, her assistant would reply that she was out of town, had a prior engagement, or was unavailable. It had taken a few tries for me to realize that I was being blown off. In fairness, it was not something that I’d ever experienced before.

  The phrase “women were lining up” was often an exaggeration. But I truly did have women lining up for my attention. At personal appearances, charity events, and hell, even the gym. Sure, most just wanted to take pictures with me, but nine times out of ten they made it clear that there was more than just capturing the moment for posterity on the table.

  I’d never had to work for anything as hard as I was working to go on a single date with Vanessa Cupid.

  Elizabeth’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Mr. Briggs, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow, but it’s no problem.”

  I hadn’t planned on showing up until tomorrow. But I’d finished filming the new show I was anchoring, Sports Today, before noon, gotten in my truck, and had driven eight hours from Wishing Well, Texas to Oasis Springs, New Mexico.

  “You’ll be in our Paradise Suite, fifth floor.” Elizabeth pushed a small envelope and several brochures toward me. “We have twenty-four hour room service and a concierge on call.”

  She continued talking about the amenities the resort had to offer, but I tuned her out, distracted once more by the cutout. Even in cardboard, Vanessa Cupid was breathtaking. Although, the flat cardboard didn’t reveal the tiny flecks of gold that swam in the amber pools of her eyes. It didn’t capture the luminous glow that radiated from her sun-kissed skin. It didn’t accurately depict the generous curves in her petite frame.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Briggs?” Elizabeth’s question served to snap my brain out of the Vanessa Cupid trance I’d fallen in.

  “Do you happen to know if Vanessa has checked in?”

  I hadn’t planned on asking about the brunette beauty but that’s what came out of my mouth.

  “Vanessa?” Elizabeth’s brows furrowed as her eyes darted to the computer screen and she began typing again. “I don’t have anyone else registered as being in your party.”

  “Dr. Cupid,” I rephrased, motioning to the life size cardboard.

  “Oh, um, I’m not sure I can…” Elizabeth stuttered.

  “We don’t give out personal information. Especially to creepers like you.”

  A familiar voice sounded behind me and my lips were curving into a smile as I turned and found Liam Sullivan standing with his arms crossed, legs shoulder-width apart in a stance that might intimidate someone else. I met Sullivan my first day of training camp after we were both drafted by the Long Beach Legends. He’d been my roommate and back-up quarterback. He’d stayed in the league several years longer than I had and retired a couple of years ago. Now he owned several resorts, including the one we were standing in.

  “Hey, man!” I reached out and we did the one-arm man hug. “This place is incredible!”

  I wasn’t just saying it. The resort was stunning. Its website boasted of “seamlessly weaving breathtaking outdoor vistas into the stunning indoor decor” and it delivered. I’d missed the grand opening but had seen pictures online, they didn’t do the place justice. My first impression was that the resort blended high-end luxury and welcoming comfort.

  “Thanks!” Liam beamed with pride as he looked around.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Briggs?” Elizabeth asked and I noticed that there were other people waiting to check in.

  “I’ll take it from here, Beth. Thanks.” Liam grabbed the envelope containing my keycard from the counter.

  “Of course, Mr. Sullivan.” Elizabeth smiled and if I wasn’t mistaken, blushed.

  It
didn’t surprise me. The ladies loved Liam. He was what I was sure the people that coined the phrase “all-American” were envisioning. Six foot four, athletic build, light brown hair, and a smile so perfect his first endorsement deal had been toothpaste.

  He would’ve been the ideal wingman during our playing years if he hadn’t been in a relationship the entire time. He’d married his childhood sweetheart right after our rookie year but they’d gotten divorced after he left the NFL. It hadn’t been pretty. Not that most divorces were sunshine and rainbows, but this one was particularly painful.

  I’d never been a huge fan of Stacy, Liam’s ex-wife. She’d always seemed much more interested in his status than the man himself. But I kept my mouth shut because it was none of my business. Besides, the two of them had been together since middle school.

  Things ended when he walked in on her cheating on him with his own brother. I had seven brothers and I couldn’t imagine one of them betraying me like that.

  As we started across the large lobby I could feel my friend’s eyes on me as he motioned to the cutout that I’d been staring at since I arrived. “So. Vanessa, huh?”

  I didn’t respond. What could I say? I anonymously donated a date with me to her and she seemed to have no interest in the donation?

  “Is Dr. Cupid who I need to thank for this impromptu early launch?”

  Three days ago I’d decided that it was going to be my final attempt at setting up a date with Vanessa. I’d emailed her and been told by her assistant, once again, that she would be out of town. Figuring I had nothing to lose at that point, I did a little internet research to see if I could find out if that was really the case. Lo and behold, I learned that she was holding a seminar at Oasis. I took it as a sign of fate stepping in and telling me not to give up. What were the chances that she’d be holding a seminar at Liam’s resort? I’d immediately called and offered to launch my massage oil line early at Oasis on the same weekend. Liam had already planned on carrying the products, but they technically weren’t available until the following month.