Page 17 of Hera

“What’s his name?” Demi asked, getting the sauce onto the plate this time.

“Augustine. I called him August. He didn’t tell me not to, but I should really ask him if he’s okay with his name being shortened,” Hera said thoughtfully. Then she remembered the swooping, swoony feeling she’d gotten... “When my wings appeared, he didn’t even flinch.”

“Your wings?” Demi asked, surprised. “He really affected you, didn’t he?”

“You havenoidea,” Hera said emphatically, picking up her plate and fork and carrying them to the table.

“How was the kiss?” Demi followed her example.

“Non-existent.”

Demi’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. He kissed the back of my hand, but he said he didn’t want to come upstairs. That he didn’t trust himself around me in private and that he wants to wait.” Hera sighed heavily.

“Well...” Demi dragged it out. “Maybe he’s the kind of person who wants to get to know their partner before having sex. That’s not exactly a bad thing, especially considering you went to the speed dating event looking for Mister Forever, right?”

“That is an excellent point,” Hera said, wagging her fork at her sister. “I’m not upset by it. Obviously. Look at the skies.”

Demi chuckled. “That’s true. What’s the plan? When is your first date? Where is he taking you?”

“Iam takinghimout on Saturday afternoon. I’m going to fill a picnic basket and we’re going to rent bicycles and ride along the beach in L.A.,” Hera said.

“That sounds awesome! Where did you get the idea?”

“He said he was in sports entertainment, so I figured that we should do something sporty. And you can’t go wrong with a picnic, not with ButterNut Bakery sandwiches.” Hera wiggled in satisfaction. “I won at darts, so I got to plan the first activity.”

“How did he handle that?”

Hera nearly choked on her pasta as she recalled his expression. “He was so surprised!”

“But not angry?” Demi asked, concerned.

“No, definitely not that.” Hera smirked. “I made sure of that. I didn’t want to risk dating someone who can’t handle losing.”

“Good call,” Demi said. “Not that you can’t handle yourself.”

“Obviously,” Hera said with a chuckle. “But I’d still rather not be in that position.”

“Nobody would,” Demi agreed.

* * *

The restof the week had passed at a snail’s pace. Saturday dawned gloomy, but cleared along with Hera’s mood as she drank her morning coffee. She chose a summery yellow sundress with red cherries dotted on it and paired it with pure white strappy sandals.

“You look lovely,” Demi said admiringly as Hera entered the bakery with a picnic basket looped over one arm. “I made you some ham and swiss on ciabatta, which should hold well until you get to your picnic spot. I also wrapped up some spiced carrot cake for dessert and filled a thermos with lemonade.”

“You are the best,” Hera enthused. “Thank you so much.”

“Just don’t take credit for my hard work,” Demi said with a wink.

Hera put a hand to her breast. “I wouldnever!” She filled the basket quickly. “I’m off!”

They had agreed to meet up at the café, as it was the easiest and closest way to get topside. Augustine arrived at the same time as she did and smiled, offering her his arm and leading her through the café to Los Angeles.

The sun was still low, but the heat was already oppressive. Hera could feel the small of her back get sticky with sweat.

Ugh, that’s attractive.

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