Page 3 of The Perfect Matchmaking

“What I will do is take you right here on the table, and then perhaps on the living room floor. We are yet to test the softness of the new carpet there, and then we will have brunch at Boulud. As for Aphrodite? Hmmm…” Abby could feel Sabine’s smile blossom against the sensitive skin of her collarbone as she nosed to move away the flimsy collar of the robe. “Aphrodite will have to wait because right now, I only have plans for you.”

1

WHERE FAMOUS LAST WORDS ARE SPOKEN (BECAUSE OF COURSE)

She 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, usuallybetween 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 likehim. 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.”

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