‘What if I got another
job? A different occupation to the mundane task of shooting people all day
everyday?’ Bonnie pouted her lips as she pondered the thought. It was a typical
day in the office, the usual hive of activity buzzed around her, but Bonnie couldn’t
be less interested in the work of ensuring true love.
‘That’s a lovely idea,
Bonnie. I’m not sure it would work though. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t
you sign an agreement that committed you to this role till you depart this
earth?’ Richard smiled at her sympathetically.
‘Well, yes,
technically, but there are always loopholes and ways to exploit the system. The
problem is that there is no point doing that without something to fall back
on.’ She twisted a pen in her hands and toyed with the career possibilities. ‘I
could write another book…’
‘You could. The first
one was lovely. Cheryl really enjoyed it. The only thing was that, well, it
didn’t really sell that well, did it? So I’m not sure that would work out, is
all.’
‘Richard, reality does
a good enough job of killing my dreams. You don’t have to jump on board as
well.’
‘Sorry, Bonnie,’ he
said sheepishly and turned back to his computer screen. ‘Maybe we could talk
some more about it later? New orders. Just emailed them to you.’
Bonnie’s eyes scanned
the screen. ‘Are you kidding me with this?’ she spat.
‘I know it’s not your
usual.’ Richard had lowered his tone.
There he was. The
back-up plan, the man who had rejected her because he’d met someone else.
Bonnie had been certain that as he hadn’t landed on her desk yet, this affair
of his would amount to nothing more than a fling. Instead, she stared at their
picture, the stats scrolling the screen beside it, feeling very much like her
own heart had been pierced with an arrow. Okay, maybe not her heart, but definitely
something in her torso. Or wherever it might be that the ego was contained
anyway.
‘Fucking Tinder. As if
Ok Cupid wasn’t bad enough. Now we’ve got stupid apps on phones making my job
harder.’
‘If it wasn’t a
genuine match it wouldn’t come through, Bonnie. They do check these things.’
‘No, they don’t. The
get kind of a vibe and then they send it through to me. I had to weed out over
3000 matches they sent through last year that would never have survived the
year. The year! Screw it. I’m not shooting him.’ She folded her arms, very much
caught in the throes of a tantrum induced by the dire state of her love life.
‘Bonnie…’
‘No, Richard. That
jerk has kept me waiting on a commitment for two years now. He wants a
girlfriend? He can fake his way through a relationship with her and just pray
that his love is pure enough to get them through. Ugh! Three weeks ago he was
sending me penis pictures and now he’s apparently in love? No. He can do it
without me.’
‘Bonnie,’ sweat
appeared on Richard’s top lip. ‘Are you really sure about this one? I mean, I
know you are the best-‘
‘The best in the
world, Richard. The very best,’ she said, a smug look settling on her face.
‘Yes, but surely part
of that is knowing when to make the match and when not to. You never let your
personal feelings interfere before. I know it must be upsetting having to shoot
all the men you’ve had feelings for, but surely you are mature enough that you
wouldn’t avoid making a match just because of a few untoward pictures? Come on,
let’s rise above this.’
‘No, Richard. Just
no.’ Bonnie’s bottom lip jutted out stubbornly. She was not going to be swayed.
‘But you know what can
go wrong,’ he protested.
‘Yes, I do. And you
know what? I’m not sure I care anymore.’ She felt a tingle in the exact spot on
her ribcage where she’d been branded a cupid. To unknowing eyes it looked like
a normal tattoo, but an x-ray of her ribs would reveal it had been etched deep
into the bone. The skin burned where the arrow marked her flesh, but Bonnie
ignored it.
Richard, mouth agape in
horror at Bonnie’s defiance, watched as a sly smile slowly spread across her
face.
Fine, she thought to herself. If they
weren’t going to let her quit her job, she would be the first cupid in history
to get sacked.
And so it was that
Bonnie Martin refused to set up a match because of a few penis photos and put
herself at risk of becoming the first Cupid in history to be stripped of her
arrow.
