Page 9 of The Perfect Matchmaking

“Both you and I and all those thousands of cupids are romance novel clichés.”

Aphrodite again caught her assistant’s self-satisfied glance in the mirror and smiled back.

“Fair enough.”

Erato stroked her chin before continuing. “Okay, Ares? Didn’t you say he was being gross to you during dinner? Isn’t that just him flirting? Seriously, the taste in men you have, Dite.”

“Well, if his mother had her wish, this could be the power play. Hera has always wanted to have me under her thumb, and getting her favorite son to marry me…? I can’t even entertain the idea. But he is a horn dog like his dad. He won’t be opposed, although I thought he was enjoying his freedom. What’s this trope,enemies to lovers?”

“Hmm, you two were never quite that. How does one actually become enemies with a total fool?” The muse rolled her eyes before continuing. “On the other hand, you actuallyweresworn enemies with someone else. A certain academic currently hailing from cold and foggy New England. Tall, lanky, big horn-rimmed glasses, tweed jacket with corduroy elbows. Ring any bells? And speaking of elbows, I heard her arms are lick-worthy, all sinewy and muscled…”

Aphrodite almost choked on air at the mention of Athena. And not just any mention, but the detailed description of what the Goddess of Wisdom looked like, and especially the enumeration of all the points that had drawn her own attention last night.

“Please,” she waved her hand at Erato, “she’s a relic. And I’m not at all interested in a Greek Lit professor from Yale. Spare me the boredom.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say all that. I heard she’s not quite as boring as people think…”

“What do you mean? What have you heard?” Belatedly, she realized she’d very obviously given herself away when Erato flashed a predatory grin, showing her canines.

“For someone ‘not at all interested’ in the supposedly dull academic, you are kinda hot under the collar right now, Boss.”

At Aphrodite’s glare, Erato just laughed.

“I don’t know much, but I heard she and Clio were an item. And that it was all very very steamy there for a brief minute. Well, more like for a couple of years, but what are a few tripsaround the sun for us? Nothing really. Still, Goddess of Wisdom, the Muse of History, you’d think they were a perfect match.”

Aphrodite actually had to force a very unpleasant set of images away. Clio was extraordinarily intelligent. And beautiful. And she could clearly see those long-fingered hands of Athena’s, still bearing chalk and ink stains, running through Clio’s beautiful, red tresses. And two years? Sure, nothing in the life of an immortal, but a considerable amount of time to savor certain aspects of a relationship. Argh, she so didn’t need those visions in her mind’s eye right now!

Damn Erato and her gossipy ways. But she had questions. Questions that pertained to herself as well, since she was beginning to see parallels emerge between her situation and Athena’s.

“And Zeus just allowed her to get involved with a muse? And to actually have a real relationship?”

“Oh, wow, I did not expect you of all people to be this discriminating!” Erato mock-clutched her chest. ‘Would you listen to this?A muse!How the mighty have fallen!”

Aphrodite was getting tired of the amateur theatrics.

“You know what I meant. Quit the performance, Erato.”

“Fine, fine. I was messing with you, sheesh, you are wound tight. Maybe, you know, ask for a helping hand? Or if a hand is too much, just a couple of fingers?”

Aphrodite’s mouth twitched, and Erato’s grin blossomed fully.

“Athena was completely free of Zeus and his bullshit by the time she hooked up with Clio. You bet she’d never have been allowed to otherwise. He’d have used her differently somehow, everyone knows that. Her and Clio make a lot of sense together, but not to him. No power play, alliance-making, or any of the other stuff he cares about, you know?”

Aphrodite knew. After all, all her serious and long-term alliances had been pre-arranged, engineered, made to happen in some way. No, Zeus didn’t care for her dalliances with the nymphs or muses or even mortals. So yes, she knew. And envied Athena a little bit for the freedom she possessed. To choose. To be. To just breathe.

She shook her head. They weren’t the same. And she needed to stop thinking about those kind eyes, for surely they were pitying her, because Athena was free and Aphrodite never would be.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Erato tried and failed to raise an eyebrow. She had never learned the maneuver. Good, it served her meddlesome self right.

“It doesn’t.” She couldn’t believe she was about to justify herself to this particular muse, famous for her indiscriminate sexcapades. “I hadn’t seen her in centuries, so don’t be ridiculous. She took me by surprise. That’s all.”

“I’m just saying. There are only so many tropes in Romancelandia. And in my humble opinion,enemies to loversis the best one. Withopposites attractchallenging it for the top spot, though.”

Aphrodite finally turned away from the mirror, hugging the wrap closely over her generous décolletage. Erato’s eyes predictably followed the folds of the fabric. Well, some things still worked just fine to distract her—at times—too perspicacious assistant.

“Nothing humble about you, Erato. Don’t sell yourself short. And eyes up. Let’s go deal with the descending hordes. And the thousands of cupids.”

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