Page 11 of Hera

Hera sighed. “Yes, the Goddess. I have never dated Zeus and never plan to. I hate that rumor.”

Cliff didn’t seem convinced and the rest of their date was filled with stilted conversation. Hera almost cheered when the bell sounded and Cliff left her table. She marked down a zero next to his number before looking up at the next person to sit down in front of her.

“Hello, I’m Kurtis. You shine more radiant than the sun. Have you heard about the dragon shifters appearing?”

Oh boy.

Will they all be like this?

Empty compliments and rumors?

Suddenly, the night didn’t seem quite as fun.

CHAPTER4

Augustine wantedto groan with frustration. He had been on two dates so far, both with women he was sure were delightful, but he kept saying things that completely confused them. He had never felt so disconnected to the world. Certainly, speaking with Odin hadn’t proved to be this difficult.

I should try out some of the conversation topics my brothers came up with for the next date.

Maybe that would help.

He pulled back his chair at the next table, where an ogre was sitting. “Good evening, I am Augustine. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m Chantalle. Nice to meet you.” The ogre had a high, breathy voice.

“I like your necklace,” he said, nodding at the extraordinarily fancy and overdone piece of jewelry. “Does it have a story?”

“Oh, no, not really. It was a gift from my sister for my birthday a couple years ago.” The ogre touched the dangling red gem closest to her cleavage provocatively.

“Are you close with your family?” Augustine appreciated strong family values.

These questions are working nicely!

He made a mental note to thank his brothers.

“I suppose so. We live in the same city!” Chantalle giggled and tossed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder.

“Have you lived in Purgatory long?”

“All my life. My ancestors were some of the original founders.”

“Really? That is fascinating. Has it changed much since its inception?”

“Quite a bit, but more so in the last year, since our lord met his wife.” She leaned forward, her low cut neckline threatening to expose her breasts. “She lived topside, you know.”

“I had heard that,” Augustine replied politely. “She is a shifter, correct?”

“A wolf shifter, yes.” Chantalle began to frown, her prominent brow furrowing.

“Are shifters not... accepted here?” Augustine asked hesitantly.

Chantalle crossed her arms. “Of course they’re accepted. Why wouldn’t they be?”

Augustine realized he’d spent most of their date talking about another woman and mentally chastised himself. “What do you do for a living?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I am a seamstress,” Chantelle said. “I made this myself.” She stood up to show off the form-fitting gold-lamé sheath dress. It rode high on the thigh and low on the breasts, making Augustine wonder if she ever had problems with it rolling up in the middle.

“You do beautiful work,” he complimented her abilities, reminding himself he was being polite despite the fact he’d seen far better at that new place in town. What was it called?Metamorphosis. Yes, that was it. “What else have you made recently?”

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