It's all Cupid's fault (The Holidaze Book 2)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Another date that led to another disaster, Mia thought as she brushed a hand through her hair and wondered what to do next. She had gone dancing with a man who swore he was an excellent dancer. The moment she found herself sprawled on the floor was when she realised that he was not only a bad dancer but also a horrible person.

Laughter surrounded her and Mia did her best to keep a calm frame of mind. A room full of people all in their delicate finery continued to titter. Mia wanted to thump the 'good dancer' who stood above her.

"You're supposed to hold on when I spin you," her date said as he guffawed with the rest of them.

Mia's worst moment came when saw Cupid in amongst the patrons. He shook his head at her with amusement dancing in those far too appealing blue eyes of his.

Mia got to her feet, brushed off the imaginary dirt and prepared for battle. With clicking heels, she made her way over to Cupid and completely ignored her stupid date.

"I'm not happy, and you shouldn't be either, because it means more work for you," Mia declared before marching away.

"Wait, Mia, let's try that one more time," her date rushed up to her, but Mia continued storming away. "You bastard! You made her leave without me."

The dreaded dance date turned to Cupid, and Mia hated herself for wanting to fly to Cupid's defence. Yes, it was his fault, but it came down to her date's fault for laughing at her.

"No, I'm leaving because you couldn't bother yourself with helping me off the ground sooner," Mia told her date coolly.

"Ah, uh."

"A man who ignores a woman sprawled on the floor is not a man who I want to know," Mia grabbed her handbag and left with her heels clicking on the polished floorboards.

By the time she made it to her car, Mia grew more disenchanted. Maybe she needed to give up on men entirely. Maybe she would have to spend her whole life alone. She sighed and kicked a pebble, why was this part of her life so impossible?

"You agreed to that one," Cupid's voice made Mia need to grit her teeth.

"I don't want to talk to you right now," Mia huffed.

"Then I have to choose another one."

Cupid raised his bow and pointed it back towards the dance disaster zone. He had an arrow already to set flying on an unsuspecting man, who Mia knew she wouldn't like.

"That's not happening. I'm thinking of ditching this man hunt," Mia looked at her shirt and flicked away invisible lint.

"I'll agree with you, that's not happening. You aren't taking my cushy job away from me! If you go on a manhunt strike, that's fine, but please note that I'll follow you everywhere and use my most potent arrows. They not only cause instant infatuation, but also a love sickness so bad that it can lead to one singing sappy love ballads for their new partner. Do you want me to go that far?" Cupid smirked at her as he drew out his worst weapon.

Mia couldn't hide her horrified expression, "do I look like someone who needs ballads made up about me?"

"I wouldn't know because I can't read you the way I can read the rest of the human population."

"What? I thought you could read everyone."

"Make your choice of potent arrows or another man coming your way," Cupid quickly deflected the conversation, hoping that Mia didn't grasp the magnitude of what he'd blurted out.