Matchmaker's Muse

Matchmaker's Muse

ALISTAIR LEANED BACK in the comfortable leather chair, smiling at a humorous passage in “Train To Zanzibar.” He flipped to the next page, inhaling the comforting scent of books that filled the café. Sipping his coffee, he relished the perfect day in Paris.

As he considered a new book in the mysteries section, he noticed a young couple gazing dreamily at each other. Not wanting to stare, he returned to his book, muttering, “Lucky at love,” followed by a heavy sigh.

He longed for love, having never experienced it himself, nor could he recall a time when someone loved him. Yearning for the intimacy it promised, he felt his quirky nature set him apart. People puzzled him; he struggled to understand their emotions and found them contradictory.

But there was one thing he loved, books.. One thing he truly loved was books, a passion that ultimately guided him to a lucrative career as a developmental editor in Paris.

He pushed back from the table, stood up, and waving to Marinette, the proprietor, he headed for the door. Suddenly someone suddenly bumped into his shoulder.

Excuse me.” he said. He turned to see who ran into him. His eyes widened when he made contact with the greenest eyes he had ever seen, they appeared to be dotted with gold flecks.

He stopped as his heart jumped.

The woman's eyes showed a hint of surprise. “I am sorry, wait, you see me?” Her brow furrowed.

Well sure.” He said, “Now I do.”

He couldn't understand how he had missed her. Standing at just four-foot-five, she possessed the most beautiful face he had ever seen, framed by thick, wavy, fiery red hair. Her slim body was elegantly dressed in a flowing white blouse and a very short white skirt that accentuated her delicate figure, reminiscent of the sixties. Stylish boots completed her look, and a satchel casually hung over one arm, enhancing her striking appearance.

Alistair slid to the side and the young woman passed by.

Grasping the doorknob he opened the door and stepped out into the Paris afternoon sun.

“Paris in the Spring.” he said taking a glance back through the cafe window at the mystery woman.

***

Over the next few days Alistair immersed himself in his editing work, often toiling for over twenty-four hours straight. Hours vanished like minutes, and during these sessions, he scarcely ate.

On the third day, he woke from a restful night, having finished multiple edits and sent the books to the publisher. After a refreshing shower and shave, he grabbed a book and headed to his favorite café for breakfast.

He sidestepped puddles on the brisk walk, greeting shopkeepers hawking their wares. Arriving at the café, he was delighted to find his preferred seat available. Settling in against the wall for a clear view of the bustling street, he was soon served by his usual waitress, Arlett, who placed a cup of coffee and a fresh croissant spread with homemade butter and Nutella on the table.

Alistair took a sip of his warming coffee and observed that the café was busier than usual. Every seat was occupied by young couples enjoying their Spring break. As he watched the crowd, he wondered about the lives of the people who passed by and the stories they carried with them.

Against the blinding glare of the morning sun reflected off the buildings and street, Alistair wished he had brought sunglasses. The sun glinted off the chrome of a passing car, forcing him to squint.

As the vehicle rolled away, his jaw dropped.

Stepping into view from the middle of the street was the same woman he had seen days earlier at the “Books and More” Café. She was dressed exactly as before, seemingly unbothered by the chill in the air as she made her way to the café.

Remarkably, she didn’t spot him. Alaistair quickly snatched up a newspaper left on the table beside him. He opened it and concealed his face, peering cautiously around the edge.

The woman approached a young couple seated at the far end of the café, enjoying their breakfast. He watched intently as she glided toward them, her hand dipping into the satchel slung over her arm. Her slender fingers hovered over their steaming drinks, then moved gracefully back and forth. Something gold, like delicate snowflakes, drifted down into the cups.

She seemed in no hurry, leading Alistair to deduce that whatever it was, it must be harmless.

The young woman moved from table to table, repeating her ritual.

“How do these young couples not protest?” he thought, placing the newspaper back down as she drew nearer.

Then it happened. Her emerald green eyes locked onto Alistair's, and she came to a sudden halt, her gaze narrowing, fixated directly on him.

Red hair bouncing off her shoulders, she made a beeline for Alistair, and his pulse quickened as she grabbed the chair opposite him and settled in.

With her palms cupping her chin and her elbows resting on the table, she stared deep into his eyes, silence stretching between them for several long moments.

“Are you staring at me?” she questioned, leaning back slightly as her hands fell to her lap. “Really, how is it that you see me at all?”

Alistair chuckled. “That’s an odd question, considering you’re right there.” He gestured with open palms toward her.

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed, pouting playfully. Then, without warning, she snatched a piece of his croissant and took a generous bite. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she stood and briskly walked away, her boots clomping against the pavement.

Being a lover of mystery novels, Alistair was determined not to let this enigma slip away. He jumped up and followed her as she crossed the street.

She glanced back, her voice sharp. “Don’t you dare follow me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely following you—until you explain what you put in those drinks and reveal who you are.”

Their pace quickened as she darted across the street, seemingly unfazed by the chaotic traffic.

As he spoke, he couldn’t help but feel the thrill of the chase, the inexplicable connection pulling him closer to this enigmatic creature. There was something about her, a spark of chaos that sent his heart racing and his mind spinning.

Maybe this was what he had been searching for all along—a mystery worth unraveling, a puzzle that promised not just answers, but something deeper.

Alistair waited patiently for the light, his mind racing with questions, then dodged around cars to reach the sidewalk just as she did.

Huffing in frustration, she shot him a sidelong glance as she continued toward a narrow alley, her determination palpable.

“You better stay away!” she shouted over her shoulder.

“I’ll call the police if you don’t stop!” he called back, his heart racing.

“Go ahead and see how that turns out!” she retorted, turning to face him as she stepped into the alley.

In just two seconds, he caught up to her. She leaned back against the side of the building, her green eyes reflecting mischief.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“You won't believe me if I tell you,” she replied, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well, try me,” Alistair urged, intrigued.

With a confident smile, she stepped closer, her face just inches from his. “I’m a Cupi, okay? You know, like Cupid—Cupi.”

Alistair stumbled back, bemused. “You’re a nut job. Listen,” he shot back, “for all I know, you poisoned those people back there. You expect me to believe you’re some kind of Cupid? Get real.” Alistair crossed his arms defiantly.

“No, Cupi. C U P I,” she spelled out. “Cupid is my boss.”

Alistair let out a laugh. “You still expect me to believe that?”

“Well, you’re the only one who can see me. The only one who ever has.”

Alistair laughed.

“No, really. Watch this.” She stepped out of the alley and approached an old man waiting for a taxi. Standing before him, she waved her arms wildly and leaned in close, shouting, “HEY!”

The old man merely glanced at his watch, oblivious to her presence.

With a triumphant smile, she returned to Alistair’s side. “See? They don’t see or hear me, but for some reason, you do.” She tapped her finger against her lips, leaving Alistair stunned and captivated. He felt as if he had stepped into his own fantasy novel.

“Okay, so let’s say I believe you,” he said, crossing his arms

tighter. “What does that even mean? Do you shoot arrows at people or something?”

“Not exactly,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I sprinkle love dust. It’s much more subtle and a lot less messy.”

“Love dust?” he echoed incredulously. “That sounds like something out of a cheesy romance novel.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. I spread love wherever I go, like a fairy godmother but with better fashion,” she said, gesturing to her stylish outfit.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. “And I’m supposed to believe you just sprinkle this dust and people fall in love?”

“Pretty much! I mean, have you seen the way those two were looking at each other back there?” she countered, a playful grin on her face.

“Right, so you think you’re responsible for that?”

“Of course! It’s my job.”

“Congratulations,” he said dryly, “I’m thrilled.”

“Do you have a name?” he said.

“Alexia. And now you’re interrupting my day. I have more places to be. It’s best if you don’t try to see me again.”

“Wait, what if I want to see you again?” he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

Ignoring his question she turned and disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Alistair slack-jawed.

***

IN THE DAYS that followed Alistair found couldn't focus on anything else; Alexia had captivated him. His logical world was upended by her. He had tossed and turned all night, her face invading his dreams, unsure if it was real or imagined.

As the morning light broke through his window, Alistair got ready for the day.

He craved more information about this mysterious woman and her world, if she would even appear again. His jaw tightened; he possessed incredible knowledge but felt powerless to act on it. In that moment, he resolved to approach the situation logically. He had to find her. Had to unravel the mystery.

To start, he positioned a small table and chair by the window, overlooking the bustling street below.

Raising his binoculars, he scanned the scene for any sign of her. It took several days, but on the fourth afternoon, he spotted her and plotted her route on paper.

Over several days, he learned when and where she would appear. Now it was time to confront her for answers.

He made his way to Café Lumière and waited, confident that she would be passing by at any moment. It wasn't long before he spotted her weaving through the crowd on the sidewalk. Alistair stepped out of the café and quickly closed the distance between them.

As he got close he hesitated, gathering his courage, but before he could retreat, she she stopped . Then she turned to face him. Her green eyes locked onto his, and a smile spread across her face, lighting up her features and sending a jolt of warmth through him.

“Looks like you found me.” she said.

Alistair’s breath hitched slightly as he made his way over. “I wasn’t sure if I’d dreamt you up or if you were real,” he admitted, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Real as love dust, my friend,” she winked, her gaze twinkling with mischief.

“So, you really do exist. What are you doing here?”, he said.

“Just doing my job, you know, spreading love and all that,” she replied nonchalantly. And you? Were you stalking me?”

“Stalking? No, more like… searching,” he said, a grin breaking through his initial seriousness. “I had to make sure you weren’t a figment of my imagination.”

She laughed, a sound that was like music to his ears. “Well, if I were a figment, I’d be the most charming one you’d ever dreamt of, right?”

“Definitely the most.” He replied.

Alistair, his pulse quickening, “I want to know more,” he said, his breath slightly ragged.

“Oh no, that’s not possible,” she replied, her tone shifting as she slowed, locking her gaze with his.

“Of course it is. Just let me ask you questions, and you can answer them. Simple!” He offered her a wide grin.

Seeing she was not going to win she agreed. “All right, Allistair. Ask away.” She paused, her demeanor softening slightly as she studied him, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a half-smile.

“Have dinner with me,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could think better of it.

“If that were possible, I just might,” Alexia replied, her eyes sparkling yet distant, as if she were caught between two worlds. “You are kinda cute. I’d get in trouble.” She smiled, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. “Okay, just this once. I'll have dinner with you.”

As they settled into a cozy corner of the restaurant, the ambient glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting playful shadows. Alistair leaned forward, eager to uncover the mysteries behind the enchanting woman seated across from him.

“So, Alexia,” he asked, curiosity evident, “what's it like in your realm?”

“It’s beautiful, filled with laughter and magic. “ She said

“What about 'your job'?” he said.

“It’s not always easy. People can be complicated; not everyone believes in love, and some are afraid to open their hearts. It’s my job to show them the way.” Her eyes twinkled.

Alistair sat captivated by her.

The love sprinkles make them fall in love?” he asked.

“No, they ignite a spark, that little something that opens hearts,” she replied.

As the night deepened, more questions fluttered about the realm's appearance—how many people or creatures inhabited it. If they had a king and other things. Alexia grew weary of the incessant inquiries and decided to turn the focus to Alistair, curious about his life.

To his surprise, he found himself sharing everything with her, even confessing that he had never known the feeling of falling in love.

A warm sensation coursed through him, drawn not just to her words but to the profoundness of her spirit. “And what about you? Do you ever… fall in love?”

Alexia's gaze softened, and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed for a moment. “Falling in love is a complex matter for a cupi. We are meant to be the bearers of love, not its seekers. But…” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper, “sometimes the lines blur.”

His heart raced as the air thickened with unspoken emotions. “What if I told you I want to be more than just a fleeting thought in your life?”

She met his gaze, her hand gliding across the table to intertwine with his.

Alistair's heart leaped. He stood, still holding her hand, and circled the table to kneel beside her. Their eyes locked, and she leaned in, closing the distance for a kiss.

As their lips met, the world around them faded into a soft blur, and the moment stretched into eternity. Alistair felt the warmth of her lips, gentle yet electrifying, igniting something deep within him—a feeling he had never encountered before. It was as if every unsung melody in his heart suddenly found its notes, weaving a harmony that resonated through his very being.

His mind raced, torn between the exhilaration of the kiss and the weight of the reality surrounding them.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, Alexia's breath came in soft, tremulous waves. “I never imagined this could happen,” she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. “I was meant to watch love blossom from afar, not to be part of it.”

Alistair brushed a lock of hair from her face, his fingers gentle against her skin. “But you are part of it now,” he said, his eyes reflecting the depths of his sincerity.

“This means I can never return to my world.” she said.

Alistair’s heart sank at her words, a deep ache forming within him. “What do you mean you can never return?” he asked, his

voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia looked away, her expression filled with a mix of sorrow and resolve. “As a cupi, I’ve always been bound by the duty to spread love among mortals. I’ve watched countless stories unfold, but I was never meant to be a part of them. By allowing myself to fall for you, I’ve severed that bond. I can’t go back now.”

He felt the weight of her sacrifice, the enormity of her choice crashing over him like waves. “But I don’t want you to give up everything for me,” he said, desperation lacing his words. “You are meant to help others find love!”

Her gaze returned to his, a fierce determination igniting in her eyes. “And what is love if I can’t experience it myself? The very essence of being a cupi was to witness love, but now… I want to be in it. With you.”

Alistair’s heart soared at her declaration.

“Then let us start a life together.” he said as he took her hand and the headed for the exit.