Page 2 of The Perfect Matchmaking (Cupids & Goddesses #2)

WHERE FAMOUS LAST WORDS ARE SPOKEN (BECAUSE OF COURSE)

S he hated her family.

No, she despised her family.

No, no, she wanted her family to go to hell for all she cared.

Well, the last one would be difficult because some of the members of said family actually lived in Hell, and those were the nice ones. Hades and Persephone never bothered her, never caused her any grief, and they shared a bond born out of being pawns in other gods’ foolish games.

So, no, she could not send them all to Hell. Hades was a good woman and she and her wonderful wife did not deserve to be punished thusly. She was at least honest about her devilry.

Plus, they weren’t even blood. She was one of the few among the twelve Olympians not related to Zeus.

Neither had she ever been married to him, nor had borne his children.

Which was, quite frankly, a fucking rarity.

The man was nothing if not prolific. Still, they were a unit.

By their origin, by their mission, by their immortality.

They were in this whole damn boat together, even if she, as she had already mentioned above, despised most of them.

Sitting in her beautiful office overlooking the Champs-élysées, with the Arc de Triomphe looming in the distance, Aphrodite sipped her rosé and frowned.

The wine did not taste the same. It did not bring her the sought-after pleasure.

She carefully sidestepped the fact that not much brought her pleasure these days, and focused on the task at hand.

Though focusing on anything had been really hard lately.

Aphrodite swallowed and shook her head, but the lack of clarity in her mind did not vanish.

Rubbing her forehead, she moved her fingers into her hair, running them through her locks.

She felt exposed, her thoughts racing to find the reason for the uncharacteristic malaise, yet finding none.

If she was completely honest with herself, her disquietude predated this nebulous “lately” she kept throwing around.

Well, if lately meant years, then yes, lately .

In her mind’s eye she could see herself four years ago, pontificating to Sabine Goddard about what love was and what it wasn’t. So sure, so damn sure.

Except she wasn’t; not now and not then. She had been faking it for decades, and while thoroughly successful, it was starting to put a significant strain on her. The Goddess of Love was no longer certain what love was. The Goddess of Love, to her utter horror, had realized she’d lost her way.

“What is the problem again?” As if reading her mind, Erato stretched her long leather-clad legs on the decidedly uncomfortable chair in front of Aphrodite’s desk and visibly braced herself for the outburst that she’d normally be subjected to for being deliberately obtuse.

I’ve become predictable, even to this nitwit .

Aphrodite sighed, placed the flute on the sideboard, and sat back down.

She was being unfair to one of her oldest disciples and she knew it.

Erato, for all her faults, was her closest confidant and the farthest from a fool.

She had her moments, when her head was, shall we say, otherwise occupied, usually between some cupid’s or mortal’s legs, but overall Erato was savvy, protective and best of all, loyal.

Loyalty was seriously underrated these days.

“The old coot has ordered the whole family to assemble in Vegas at the Cupids’ Convention.” She could hear the whine in her own voice.

Erato blew a gum bubble, loudly snapped it, and looked at her with completely empty eyes. Okay, so maybe this particular disciple of hers was a bit of a nitwit even on some occasions that didn’t involve anyone’s legs.

“So… Zeus wants all the gods and assorted…” Erato visibly struggled with an appropriate word. ”Rabble… to join the cupids’ love fest this year?”

At Aphrodite’s nod, Erato chewed some more, reached for her mistress’s rosé glass, and drained it with few reservations for privacy or decorum.

“Yeah, okay.” Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the muse settled into her chair, wincing visibly at its stiffness. “Why though?”

Uncouth and always horny as Erato was, she also sliced right through the fog in Aphrodite’s mind and zeroed in on what was important.

“That I do not know.”

“Simples, call Apollo. Ask him. He’d know.

He knows everything. Oracle bullshit and all that.

Biggest gossip in the entire Olympus bunch.

And if somehow, by some miracle, that self-licking ice cream cone doesn’t know, ask your ex.

He’s a total momma’s boy kiss-ass. Hera is always in the mix when Zeus gets a bug up his godly ass.

More likely than not, she’s the one who put that bug up there.

Though why anyone would want to touch his millennia-old wrinkled tuchus, is beyond me… ”

“Erato!” Aphrodite shuddered and waved her hands at her associate.

“Fine, fine. But seriously. If Hera is behind this, Ares will know. Mom and son buried whatever hatchet they had, and last I heard, they’re in the defense contracting business together.

After the divorce, she really depended on him.

What with her being Mother of the Millenium and having no other offspring to lean on. ”

“She has Hephaestus.” Aphrodite spared a thought for her other ex, but no more than one.

“Yeah, I dunno. Even his mom doesn’t like him . Your taste in men was always suspect, if I do say so myself.”

Aphrodite let out a bark of laughter, prompting Erato to smile at her.

“At least some of the cool people will be there. The hottie twins…” At Aphrodite’s inquiring look, Erato elaborated. “Apollo and Artemis. And then the Queen of Brains herself, Athena. Brains are sexy.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never shared more than two words with her after the whole Trojan War ‘wipe a whole damn city off the face of the Earth over a dumb apple’ debacle.”

“Well sure, you wouldn’t know. You married a total oaf in Hephaestus and then dumped him for his equally under-intellectually-developed brother Ares. Nah, Goddess of Love you may be, but as I said, taste in men… really sus.”

“Fine, fine, let’s just move on from my appalling taste in spouses.”

“Well, maybe if you had mated more, you’d have developed better taste? You and I had our fun days in the sun, didn’t we?”

Aphrodite had to laugh at that. Trust Erato to remind her of one of her favorite memories.

It had been wonderful. They had been wonderful.

Especially coming after several traumatic relationships with gods and goddesses that had left her reeling, broken and bruised.

Erato was gentle and joyful and had shown Aphrodite kindness and laughter and pleasure.

That sex wasn’t a battlefield and that it could just be fun.

Pure unadulterated fun. And best of all?

They’d stayed close, and their friendship didn’t suffer.

On the contrary, it was enhanced by their past intimacy.

Aphrodite shook her head. “Be that as it may, we need to ensure that the Convention runs as smoothly as possible. Since I really don’t want to speculate about why Zeus is insisting on a family meeting in the middle of the city of sin and debauchery, we can only do so much, and what matters most is to have everything under control. ”

Erato chewed on her cuticle and wiped her fingers on the tight leather of her pants.

“Yeah, yeah, control what you can. So make sure the cupids are squared away, matching is tip-top. Maybe bring some adult entertainment, ‘cause one can only sit through so many of those true love blah blah workshops…”

Erato continued to blabber on, but Aphrodite tuned her out.

Control what you can. Cupids squared away.

The past three years had been rather unpredictable in terms of said squareness though.

With different winners of the Queen of The Perfect Match crown each year, chaos reigned.

She needed a ringer. Someone she trusted not to ruin the ceremony, the Convention, or the whole damn thing for her, while she was trying to figure out what to do about the descending hordes of Olympians.

“… I dunno, strippers could be the ticket, boss. But classy like…”

“Sabine Goddard!”

“You want to make Sabine strip in Vegas at the Convention? I mean, that would be a hot ticket to get, but are you sure?”

“What?” Aphrodite finally looked at Erato and was met with astonishment and not a little lust and anticipation.

“Oh, wipe that drool off your chin. She’s been happily married to her sweet Abby.

No, no, we need her to come back from retirement and win the Perfect Match crown so I don’t have to put up with all the idiot cupids causing a ruckus at the ceremony as they did for the past three years.

Do you remember Maddison St. James winning two years ago? ”

“Oh, yeah, she got so excited her boobs nearly jumped out of her corset. Though I’m not sure that wasn’t by design.

I enjoyed it anyway. The speech she gave still rings in my ears: ‘Shoot those arrows, shoot as many as you can, good hunting!’ I see how you’d want the classy and scorching hot Sabine to be there and steady that ship. ”

Not really needing reassurance but still happy to have gotten it, Aphrodite reached for her phone, tapping away quickly.

“So you asked her? To come back from retirement? Isn’t she like doing something really boring these days? She might be mad at you. Might not come.”

“I’m the goddamn Goddess of Love, Erato. She’s a cupid, she’ll do as I say. And no, I did not ask her. I told her. So there.”

Erato actually grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth and chin.

“Hot. Just now. With the telling and whatnot. But seriously, maybe ask her nicely? You know how these cupids are, they can be devious.”

“And what is it she can do to me, Erato?”

“Famous last words?” Aphrodite knew the glare she aimed at Erato could have melted steel.

The muse shook her head and raised her hands in surrender as Aphrodite watched the message she’d sent being received and read.

No reply came in, but she knew Sabine would never defy her order.

Say what you want about the longest reigning Queen of The Perfect Match, but she was reliable.

Reliable to get the crown even if there were only two months left, and reliable to always answer Aphrodite’s call to arms. She’d pick up her quiver.

With darkness falling on the snow-covered streets of Paris, Aphrodite found herself with another glass of wine at one of the windowsills of her magnificent Montmartre penthouse overlooking the city sprawling before her.

The city of love. Her city. She had chosen it herself, helped forge and shape it.

She knew every street, every corner, every crevice, so why did nothing seem familiar anymore?

Why the growing unease and the recent inability to find peace, even here in her very own playground?

Turning the conversation with Erato over in her head, she remembered how the ever sexually active muse—who even now was probably bedding some unsuspecting woman—had casually thrown it out there that Aphrodite was undersexed. Maybe she was.

“And so what?” Aphrodite thought morosely, cursing Erato and her occasional spot-on observations. Maybe if she allowed herself the freedom her muses did, she’d be less undersexed. Maybe if she’d been brave enough to have long-lasting relationships beyond foolish men.

Because despite the lightness of her adventures with several goddesses and nymphs and Erato herself, women scared her.

Their utter irresistibility, their understanding of her and their constant demand that she give her all…

Gods were simpler, less dangerous. But then also less appealing.

And always, always somehow thrust into her life by hook or by crook. The chief crook being Zeus himself.

Suddenly, a frisson of premonition shook her.

Gods thrust upon her.

Zeus. Hera. The whole goddamn family descending on Vegas.

Were Zeus and his scheming ex-wife trying to marry her off again, to satisfy yet another game of thrones?

After all, her first marriage had had no purpose other than to placate the angry Hephaestus.

She had been nothing but an insignificant pawn in Zeus’ hands.

Her divorce had upset the balance on Olympus, especially since she’d thrown over her husband for Hera’s other son.

But Ares, in turn, had been such a disappointment as a true mate, arrogant, reckless, and ultimately weak. And so they too had failed.

Hence, she’d chosen to do her damn job and not involve herself with anyone. Her one-and-done affairs with mortals never had any future to speak of, and so she remained alone. She had found the balance between her duty and her own peace. Until a few days ago…

Why would Zeus try to upset the already shaky balance now? What was he plotting?

Her phone dinged with an incoming message, and she unlocked it to be greeted with a succinct text from Sabine.

“See you in Vegas.”

Yes, she’d been right to tell Erato that she could always count on Sabine to be her Queen of the Perfect Match.

The cupid never missed. As for Erato’s prediction that Sabine would want to extract some kind of revenge on Aphrodite, she just chuckled to herself.

The only thing she had to fear from that particular cupid was a perfectly aimed silver arrow, and Aphrodite was fairly certain that, after centuries of going through the motions, she’d become immune to love.

She toasted her reflection in the window with her flute.

“There is nothing Sabine Goddard can inflict upon me.”