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"Requirements for a supernatural mixer venue," I read from my notes.

"Vampire-friendly lighting. Soundproofing for banshee clients.

No windows facing public areas." I tapped my pen against the notepad, adding, "Absolutely nothing in or near any pack territory.

" The barn venue on my screen was Pinterest-perfect, all exposed beams and twinkly lights.

Also completely useless unless I want smartphone footage of werewolf drama going viral before the event ended.

The next venue listing made me snort. "Because nothing says 'supernatural mixer' like floor-to-ceiling windows facing a public park."

A gentle knock interrupted my venue critique, bringing with it the most heavenly smell of melted cheese. Diana stood in my doorway, looking effortlessly elegant in a casual sweater dress, holding a picnic basket that made my stomach perform an embarrassingly loud symphony.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, the picnic basket swaying gently in her grip. My stomach's orchestral response made her laugh.

"Just wrestling with work problems," I said, trying to maintain dignity while my body betrayed exactly how long it's been since I last ate.

"May I come in?" She waited for my nod before entering, her movements graceful as she settled onto a chair in the living room. "On your first day? That seems rather eager of them."

"You really didn't have to..." I started, but she was already unpacking what smelled like heaven itself onto the coffee table. "Let me get us some bowls," I said, heading for the kitchen.

"The good spoons are in the drawer by the sink," she called after me, still unpacking containers that definitely shouldn't fit in that basket. "I was testing new recipes and made far too much. Besides, I realized that I hadn’t considered that you would have no money to buy food. I’m so sorry.

You must be starving!" She handed me a bowl of tomato soup that smelled like late summer gardens.

"Now, tell me what has you wound up so tight? "

I should feel defensive about accepting more help, but there was something about Diana that made it feel...safe. Like she genuinely wanted to know, rather than collecting information to use against me later.

I hesitated, but the scent of tomato soup broke my resolve. "Work project. We are hosting a mixer, but finding a venue is..." I accepted the bowl she offered, trying not to look desperate. "Complex."

"A mixer?" Her eyes shifted from sea-green to storm-gray, sudden interest flickering across her perfect features. "Tell me more?"

The soup warmed me from the inside out. I took another spoonful, weighing my words. "Actually, it was my idea. The client base needs more diversity for proper matching."

"And what specific requirements make finding a venue so...challenging?" There was an edge to her voice now, like she was teasing out a secret.

"The lighting needs to be..." I paused, my fingers from one hand finding a lock of my hair to twist while I figured out how to put this correctly. If she wasn’t part of the paranormal community I couldn’t just blurt this out, but what are the chances that she knows Lust and he owes her a favor when he runs a paranormal matchmaking agency without being part of it?

I can’t imagine him owing anyone anything if they were just a normal person.

"Adjustable?" Her voice softened. "For those who prefer the shadows?"

My hand froze.

"And I imagine," she continued, "you'll need exceptional soundproofing. Some voices carry rather...distinctively. Plus neutral ground, of course. Can't have certain groups feeling territorial."

My spoon clattered against the bowl. "How do you know about–"

"About your little supernatural matchmaking dilemma?" Diana swirled her spoon through her bowl, looking suspiciously pleased with herself. "Let's just say Lust is absolutely terrible at running a matchmaking agency. Which is entirely my fault, but watching him fumble through it brings me joy."

"Your fault?"

"Mm. He owes me." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though watching him try to match supernatural couples while being constitutionally incapable is..." She chef-kissed the air. "Pure entertainment."

I couldn't help the snort that escaped. "That...actually answers a few questions I've had about things."

"Do tell," Diana settled deeper into her chair, stirring her soup with evident delight. "I rarely get to share the more...entertaining aspects of Lust's predicament."

"Well, from what I've seen so far, his client database is..." I paused, searching for a diplomatic word, "Limited. Mostly male clients, barely any background information collected. After spending all day going through the files, I'm not even sure he's managed any successful matches."

Her laugh filled the room. "Watching him try to understand the concept of 'romantic compatibility' is rather like watching a cat attempt calculus."

"And yet he runs a matchmaking agency."

"A punishment that keeps on giving." She tore off a piece of her sandwich, dipping it in her soup. "Though I must admit, your mixer idea has potential. Fresh blood, as it were, in the dating pool."

I cradled the warm bowl in my hands. "If I can find somewhere to host it that won't end in disaster."

"Tell me more about these requirements?" She leaned forward, genuinely interested.

"Well, as you said, soundproofing is essential. And it needs to be neutral territory—no pack lands, no vampire holdings."

"Mm." Diana's eyes took on that stormy cast again. "Private enough to avoid curious mortals with smartphones, I assume? But still accessible enough for various species to feel comfortable attending?"

"Exactly. Plus..." I hesitated, twirling my spoon. "It needs to feel...special. Like somewhere magick could happen."

"Magick?" Her smile curved mysteriously. "Or perhaps...love?"

Something in her tone made me look up sharply. She was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read, but there was definitely more going on here than simple curiosity.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I might have a solution. My garden..." She paused, seeming to choose her words carefully. "It has certain...qualities that might suit your needs."

"Qualities?"

"Privacy wards, for one. Excellent soundproofing. And the ambiance...let’s just say it comes with the territory."

I sat my spoon down. "Are you suggesting hosting it here?"

"Why not? The space is perfect—private, secure, and definitely neutral territory. Plus," she added with a mischievous grin, "I could be persuaded to offer it for free, on one tiny condition."

"Which is?"

"Lust has to personally oversee the event.

" She helped herself to another grilled cheese from the basket.

"Someone needs to handle security, after all.

And watching him squirm through an evening of successful matchmaking would be.

.." She paused, considering. "Well, let's just say some talents run in the family. "

"Family?"

"Mm. Great-great-whatever grandmother Aphrodite had excellent taste in gardens." Her grin widened at my obvious shock. "And matchmaking, of course. However, family reunions aren't nearly as dramatic as the myths suggest. Usually."

The spoonful of soup I'd been about to swallow went down wrong. While I was still coughing, Diana calmly took another bite of her grilled cheese, melted strands stretching between the sandwich and her mouth.

"I'm sorry," I managed, once I could breathe again. "Did you just say...?"

"Aphrodite?" She looked entirely too amused, dunking a corner of her sandwich into her soup.

"Yes. Though really, the myths do tend to exaggerate.

Except perhaps the parts about her matchmaking and garden design skills.

" She gestured toward the darkened window where moonlight caught on the deep red and green of the roses outside the window. "Those are from her original cuttings."

I looked from Diana to the roses and back again, my mind spun like an overloaded hard drive. The impossible soup. The way she moved. Those color-shifting eyes. "That's...that would make you..."

"Hungry, at the moment." She pushed the basket of remaining grilled cheese toward me. "You should eat more. The soup really is better warm, and we have planning to do."

I mechanically took half a sandwich, watching as she stirred her bowl of soup with the same casual grace she apparently inherited from an actual goddess. "Planning?"

"For the mixer, of course. I'm thinking of floating lights in the rose arbor, perhaps some enhancement spells to keep the flowers blooming.

" Her eyes lit up as she dunked more of her sandwich into her soup.

"And wait until you see what the fountain does at midnight.

Perfect for encouraging those 'chance' romantic encounters. "

"You really want to help with this?" I asked, finally managing a proper bite of grilled cheese.

"Darling," she said, setting her spoon down with a conspiratorial smile, "playing matchmaker with supernatural clients while watching Lust squirm?

That's better than ambrosia. He learned the hard way that you don't toy with a goddess's sister and walk away unscathed.

Hmmm, I wonder if I could get in a batch of that for the event.

Though, perhaps not. It's strong stuff, and we want everyone to keep their heads straight. "