The bathroom door opens and Cassandra steps out. She’s wearing a wrap dress in a deep red that somehow makes her hair appear brighter. It clings to her hips and stomach and breasts almost lovingly, offering a tantalizing glimpse of thigh and cleavage. I clear my throat. “I’ve got to go, Orpheus.” I hang up while he’s still saying goodbye. “You look lovely.”
“Considering what this dress cost, I had better.”
I frown. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Every time I compliment you, you divert it. The dress is nice, butyoulook lovely.”
She blushes, her pale skin going a delightful pink. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
I want to press her on it, but we’re not here for that. It’s frustrating that I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. I climb off the bed and put on my shoes as she does the same with some truly torturous-looking heels. “Will you be able to walk by the end of the week after wearing shoes like that?”
“Yes.” She straightens and smooths down her dress. “They’re only a little higher than what I wear normally. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s not—”
“Apollo,” she says firmly. “I know you are not about to lecture me on how wearing heels is not good for my health. Just because I agreed not to argue about sleeping on the floor does not give you the green light to start policing my choices. I’m more than capable of dressing myself, right down to six-inch heels if that’s what I feel like wearing. Stop it.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I move to the door. “Shall we do some exploring before dinner?”
“Exploring sounds great.”
The hallway is empty, but there are faint sounds of conversation echoing from somewhere close by.
Cassandra looks around with raised eyebrows. “Interesting acoustics.”
Something we’ll need to keep in mind going forward. If even a low conversation carries through the area, the only place safe to have a frank conversation is within the bedroom. But we knew that already, even without the acoustics.
I offer my arm. “Let’s see who else is on the guest list.”
“Can’t wait.” She sounds less than enthused, but she takes my arm, sliding up against me. Her proximity threatens to make my brain skip the same way my heart is attempting to right now.
It takes far more concentration than it should to turn and start down the hall in the direction of the main entrance. We find a trio standing there. I recognize all of them as we descend the stairs to stand before them. I’m surprised to see Pan present; I hadn’t thought he left his restaurant often. He’s dressed in a pair of perfectly tailored slacks and a white dress shirt. Next to him is Aphrodite, a tall white woman with long, dark hair and a propensity to cause mischief. Until a few months ago, she was Eris Kasios, daughter to the last Zeus and sister to the current one. She’s tucked under the arm of a handsome Black man with a shaved head and a bright smile.
Adonis. He’s an up-and-coming socialite with a family legacy that stretches back through the history of Olympus. Off the top of my head, I can name three of his distant family members who have been one of the Thirteen, though the last was his maternal grandmother, who was Artemis for a number of years. A short reign as such things go, but she made an impact.
Aphrodite catches sight of us and waves a languid hand. “Do come down, Cassandra. Bring your little boyfriend.”
At my side, Cassandra tenses and her smile goes knife-sharp. “Aphrodite, I know you did not just callApollomy ‘little boyfriend.’ If you’re trying to insult him, you can do better than that.”
“You’re right.” Aphrodite’s grin widens. “I’m delighted to see that your relationship hasn’t softened you at all. I was worried.”
Cassandra laughs, and I find myself staring down at her. I’ve never heard her laugh like that. She certainly doesn’t in the office. She releases me and leans against the railing. “You know better.”
“I guess I do.”
I’m not certain whether I’ve just been insulted. It hardly matters. I clear my throat. “Nice to see you again, Adonis.” I reclaim Cassandra’s hand.
Adonis’s easy smile never wavers. He’s not a foolish man, but he seems to ride the political waves of Olympus without overmuch worry. It baffles me. “Apollo.” He reaches out the hand not wrapped around Aphrodite and shakes mine. “Nice to see a friendly face here.”
“And what am I?” Pan raises his brows.
“Cranky.” Adonis laughs.
His charm comes off him in a pulse that I can almost feel. Not even Pan is immune, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “I have reason to be cranky.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment. You’re here as Dionysus’s plus-one and he made you take your own car. Poor thing.” He steers Aphrodite toward the stairs. “Now, let’s go check out the bedroom.”