Page 19

“Yes.”

Aphrodite turned away from the all too knowing gaze. In front of her, the garish lights of the Strip cut at her eyes with their brightness, but she kept looking, relishing the pain. In the background, the door opened and quietly closed. She was alone. She always had been.

“You knowthis is very chic. You might even start a new trend.” Erato patted her forearm as they slowly made their way down to the ballroom.

“I’d rather you not mock me in my hour of need.” Leaning on sarcasm usually worked for her. However, of late, Erato seemed to be utterly immune.

“I thought Athena carrying you to your suite would’ve taken care of all your needs. Don’t tell me Clio exaggerated when she raved about the Goddess of Wisdom’s natural abilities.”

Damn her assistant and the mouthy, gossipy muses. She did not want to know anything about Athena’s natural or other abilities.

Erato gave her a gentle hip check. “Don’t worry, I saw her exit a scant minute after dumping you on the couch, so I kinda figured nothing happened.” The muse guided them smoothly through the labyrinthine corridors. “I’m also very proud of you for deciding not to hide out despite the ghastly bandage, and return to the ball.”

“It’s my ball, Erato. I can hardly skip it simply because I twisted my ankle. And call anything on me ‘ghastly’ one more time, and I’ll make sure the cupids pair you up with Hera.”

Erato shuddered theatrically before finally delivering her to the table with the other Olympians. She pulled out her chair, and when Aphrodite took her seat, Erato delivered her parting shot.

“If I were you, I’d worry more about one Goddess of Wisdom burning up the dance floor with a certain muse, or about Sabine Goddard lurking around with her quiver. But then, you always had your priorities askew, boss.”

The speed with which Aphrodite’s eyes instinctively found Athena in the crowd—embraced, all but entangled in the arms of her ex—was rather astonishing. To her right, she could hear Hera gasping and mumbling something about propriety and getting a room, but that hardly registered. Hera was a known prude, and really, Aphrodite did not want to think about Athena getting a room with anyone but herself.

Except, no, she didn’t. She had just told Athena that nothing would come of whatever little flirtation they’d engaged in. Sure looked like the Goddess of Wisdom had taken her rejection to heart, and rather quickly, too. Clio was draped all over her in avery provocative manner. At least it looked awfully provocative to Aphrodite. Obviously to Hera too, as she was trying to get Ares to stop wolf-whistling.

“I was sad to see them break up, especially since they were a perfect match of mine.” Sabine stood on little ceremony as she plopped herself by Aphrodite and crossed her legs, her own purple, sequined Jimmy Choos catching the lights of the ballroom.

All the twisting and turning in her seat to keep up with the events unfolding before her must have made Aphrodite dizzy and seeing green. That had to be it. Had to. Otherwise, her head spinning and the aforementioned green tinging her vision could be signs of only one thing. And she was absolutely not jealous.

“They were what?” Aphrodite blinked up at Sabine.

“One of my perfect matches. I think about five years before I retired? Something like that.” Sabine’s nonchalance was obviously faked, and it wasn’t at all making this entire ordeal easier on Aphrodite.

“I see what you’re doing.” She was being played. And not very masterfully at that. Which was a bit beneath the usual skill and depth of cunning and guile of one Sabine Goddard, All-Time Queen of Perfect Match. Aphrodite narrowed her gaze. Sabine was much more subtle than that.

And yet, despite knowing this game inside out, despite realizing full well she was being manipulated, Aphrodite could acknowledge that decidedly viridescent haze further descending upon her. The fact that Sabine saw Athena and Clio as ideal for each other—and them obviously still sharing much of their connection, if the display on the dance floor was anything to go by—was disconcerting.

Yes, just four years ago she had been the one telling Sabine that love is what you make of it, and a perfect match does notguarantee forever, but for some reason knowing that Athena had alreadyhadher perfect match still rankled.

For some reason? Damn it all to hell, Hades forgive her.

She was jealous. She had refused to give Athena a chance and yet here she was being engulfed in the corrosive emotion. How pathetic was she?

Sabine reclined against the back of the chair and settled in. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m really not doing anything. I’m just taking a short break while my wife is out there driving Maddison absolutely crazy.”

“You are going with the oldest trick in the book. Trying to make me have an epiphany that Athena is the one I want and force me to make a move in an attempt to ensure nobody else gets to her first. How passé of you, Sabine. How very textbook.”

The cupid twirled a table knife in her hand. “While I admit that this is indeed one of the most basic moves in every love textbook, I am not going to pretend it’s not effective. That is exactly why it is in the book. Because it works. You are scared, and you are pushing her away. Showing you she can find happiness somewhere else is supposed to make you realize that it could be you, right now in her arms.”

“Your demagoguery aside, Sabine, it could not be me. Twisted ankle and all that.”

“Touché, Dite.”

They sat in silence while couples twirled on the dance floor, the room slowly closing in on Aphrodite. At one point, Clio stretched up to her tiptoes and whispered something in Athena’s ear. Not that Aphrodite was looking but she tasted bile nonetheless.

“Damn you, Goddard. It really is very effective.”

“You wrote that textbook, Dite. You should know. Now, I’m going to go rescue Maddison from lusting to death over my wife.”

As Sabine departed, Aphrodite could not help but think that, for someone so obviously well-skilled and educated in the science of love, she was awfully susceptible to it. Still. After all these years and all the harsh lessons.