Who Needs Cupid?

"LET'S KILL CUPID." "How?" "Poison. I could leave a cup of strychnine-laced cocoa on the counter the night before Valentine's Day and--" "That's Santa, Aunt Ellenore. Get your holidays straight," Becca said with a playful grin. "Your niece is right. Cupid is a mythical being and commercial icon. You can't kill him," the ever-practical Lucky concurred. "Much as I might want to," she added in a low grumble. "We can try," Elle insisted stubbornly. The three friends had spent their usual Friday night get-together bemoaning their status as single, eligible, underappreciated goddesses-in-the-making. Tonight, Elle was sick of self-pity. Lucky's recent unlucky experience at putting her heart on the line had pushed Elle firmly toward anger. "What if we burn him in effigy? Right out front where the gas pumps used to be. Becca, you're an artist. You could create a papier-mÂchÉ piÑata thingee with wings and a golden bow and arrows. All the people Cupid has burned in the past would come and cheer. It'd be a party. And good for business," she added, looking around her beloved but dying coffee bar. For nine months she'd poured her heart and soul--and savings--into Cup O' Love CafÉ and Gifts, the sort of Star-bucks-with-heart she'd established in her parents' remodeled Conoco station located at Main and Sixth in her hometown of Fenelon Falls, Illinois. Local residents hadn't exactly jumped at the chance to support her efforts. "Elle, I love you. You're my friend. And I appreciate your outrage on my behalf, but...that's truly cracked." Lucky Morgan was in her early thirties. Smart about business. Truly clever when it came to eBay auctions. And adorable. Unfortunately she'd also just had her heart broken by a man who should have snapped her up in a heartbeat. Where was Cupid when Lucky was making a fool of herself by asking Pastor Joshua Watts to marry her? Elle silently questioned. "It's also against Fenelon Falls' fire codes," Rebecca added. Her niece was a few years younger than Lucky. A gifted artist, but far too modest and reserved for someone so beautiful. Sweet as the honey buns Elle served every morning, and chronically downtrodden, thanks to Elle's older sister, Jane. Elle huffed impatiently. "You girls aren't helping. I thought we'd decided we were through being victims of the nearsighted little imp. Last year on Valentine's Day I was out with a guy who said he was divorced, but turned out to have left his wife the week before." She let out a long, defeated sigh. "Needless to say, our mutual attraction went nowhere." "Were you his rebound fling?" Lucky asked, looking troubled. "Just plain fling. He went back to his wife before the month was out." Elle made a fist and pounded it on the coffee table where their bottle of wine was resting. "That's why I say we do something proactive this year." Becca shuddered. "My mother's favorite word." "Josh says the best revenge is a life well spent," Lucky stated, the quiver in her voice betraying her still raw anguish. "He's a preacher. What do you expec--Hey, wait. That might work. We could use Cupid's pointy little arrows against him." "I don't think that's what Josh meant." Becca shuddered. "Will there be blood? I get queasy watching House." Elle laughed. "No blood, dear heart. I promise. We'll use the Internet." Lucky and Becca exchanged a look. "To do what? Set up a Web site that gives you ten ways to kill Cupid?" "Maybe next year," Elle said patiently. "This year we'll try for something a little more upbeat." "Will it help me sell more greeting cards?" Becca asked. Profits from the sale of her unique, handmade valentines helped to fund the after-school arts program Becca offered on the second floor of the Cup. Elle nodded. "The more business I bring in, the more cards you'll sell. I guaranteeSalonen, Debra is the author of 'Who Needs Cupid? ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373781379 and ISBN 0373781377.