Goddess of Love (6 page)

“Fine, fine, fine. It's not a kingdom. It's a city. I've got it. I'll remember. It's just that I'm having so much fun! I adore Tulsa and its mixture of cheeky modern men and confident modern women, especially because none of them have any idea who I am.”

“I told you it would be a freeing experience to visit the modern world.”

“Well I am Love, and I can officially say that Love is in love with Tulsa!”

The waitress put two fresh martinis on their table, along with two slender white slices of an exquisitely decorated cake. “Here are your Wakes, ladies. And the owner, Lola, is testing out a new dessert—personal wedding cake. Please sample it with her blessing.”

“Wedding cake!” Venus laughed and clapped her hands together in a spontaneous show of girlish pleasure. “How perfectly appropriate.”

“Are you getting married?” the young waitress asked.

“Me? No! I've been married forever. That's not why it's appropriate. It's just that I am Love. Naturally wedding cake should be a favorite of mine.”

The waitress continued to smile politely, but her face had turned into a question mark.

“She means she's fixed up a lot of her friends. Sometimes we just call her Love,” Persephone explained.

“She's good at fixing up people? That's cool.”

“You have no idea,” Venus mumbled through a big bite of wedding cake. “Paris and Helen, Pygmalion and—”

“Thanks for the cake!” Persephone interrupted smoothly. “And keep an eye on our martinis; we'll want at least one more round.”

“Will do.”

When she was gone Persephone bit into her own slice of cake while she shook her head at Venus.

“What? You don't like the cake. I think it's wonderful.”

“The cake is excellent. You, on the other hand, are a mess.”

Venus took a sip of the new martini and moaned softly in pleasure. “By Apollo's golden phallus this is delicious!”

“Venus, could you please, please, please try to remember that to the modern mortals Troy existed thousands of years ago? And to them Pygmalion carving Galatea out of marble was just a myth.”

“Pygmalion? A myth? Impossible. He was a dreadful woman hater before I played matchmaker.” She grinned mischievously. “Matchmaking with a statue. I must say that I outdid myself that time. How could people believe that love story was a myth?”

“You knew them!” Persephone hissed. “And you're used to magic, unlike modern mortals.”

Venus cocked her head to the side and studied Persephone. “You seem very tense. When was the last time you orgasmed?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Of course it does. When was the last time?”

“Five days ago.”

“See there!” Venus nodded vigorously as if she'd just proved an excellent point to an attentive audience. “That's your problem.”

“I don't have a problem.”

“Well you won't if we get you properly laid.” Venus looked around the restaurant, clearly checking out the men at the bar.

“No. Really. I'm fine. And if I'm not I do have a rather long list of mortal men I can call on,” she said smugly.

“Excellent. Then do so. Five days without a proper orgasm is entirely too long. But are you sure you don't want me to work a little love magic for you?” She waggled her long, shapely fingers and diamondlike glitter began to form in the air around them.

“No!” Persephone yelped, grabbing Venus's hand and causing the love dust to fall in a small, sparkling heap on their table. She quickly blew on the powdery substance and then went into a sneezing fit when it danced in the air around them before disappearing back into the Goddess of Love's fingertips.

“Be careful,” Venus said as she finished the last of her cake. “That stuff isn't good for your lungs.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Persephone said sardonically while she sniffed delicately. “Just never mind on the love magic stuff. I'm doing fine on my own. Plus you know what happens when you get too involved in the love lives of the gods.”

“What are you talking about? I have made uncounted matches—
happy
matches.”

“Yes, you have. Happy matches between mortals. When you mess with our love lives, as in the immortals, of which I am one, things tend to go wrong. Drastically wrong.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Exhibit A—Athena and Odysseus. You decided Athena needed to love a mortal. Look me in the eye and tell me your meddling didn't cause the man to be absent from his wife and family for twenty years.”

Venus shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “If Athena hadn't been so obsessive that little affair wouldn't have been such a bad thing.”

“So you're admitting it was a bad thing?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine. Exhibit B—the Scylla/Glaucus/Circe debacle.”

“That's not fair. I had no idea that Circe was so attached to Glaucus. I thought he and Scylla made a lovely match. You know I did think he was just scrumptious after he became a water deity. How was I to know that Scylla rejecting him would make Circe so jealous?” Venus pouted. “I really don't know how you can hold that against me.”

“Okay. How about Exhibit C—Zeus and—”

“I get the point. Although how you could blame me for any of Zeus's silly affairs I'll never know,” she muttered. “Anyway I won't meddle in your love life. Right now,” she added under her breath. “But I do have the urge to, I don't know,
arrange
something for these fabulous mortals. Kind of as a payback for having such a lovely time in their
city
.” She enunciated the word distinctly, getting a grin from Persephone.

“Hey, meddle away with the mortals. It's fine with me. Whether they are aware of it or not, they're lucky to have the Goddess of Love be so interested.”

“Really!” Venus brightened. “Matchmaking always gets my womanly juices flowing.”

“Venus. Please. TMI.”

“TMI?”

“Too much information. Keep your woman's juices to yourself.”

“You know, for Spring, you really are a prude.” She narrowed her eyes at Persephone. “When was the last time you gazed at the beauty of your sacred lotus blossom with a mirror?”

Persephone choked on her martini.

“Just as I thought. You need to spend more private time with the core of your womanhood.”

“Mortals. Focus on the mortals, Venus,” Persephone said between coughs.

“If you insist…” Venus said, turning her attention to the mortals surrounding them even while she filed away in her mind that she'd have Persephone sent a special mirror when she got back to Mount Olympus.

Then all thoughts of Persephone and mirrors fled her mind as a group of laughing men entered the restaurant. They took seats at the gleaming oak bar and began a good-natured flirtation with Lola herself, who had emerged from the kitchen and was one of those timelessly attractive women who could have been anywhere from thirty-five to fifty-five and who would still be confident and sexy at sixty-five and seventy-five. Obviously the group of men were regulars as well as favorites with Lola and her waitstaff.

“Who are they?” Venus asked Persephone.

“
Firemen
…” Persephone purred the word.

H
ighlighter in hand, Pea was poring over her new book. Discover the Goddess Within—Unleash Venus and Open Your Life to Love
was propped open with two butter knives so that she could nibble on the delicious antipasto platter and keep reading at the same time. She'd breezed through the chapters on confidence and beauty and good sex, highlighting sections she needed to go back and study more thoroughly.

Wow! The book was such an eye-opener! She'd heard all her life about self-fulfilling prophecies and how envisioning things could make them happen, and she totally believed in that kind of stuff working for career advancement. That's one reason she just got a fabulous promotion from assistant program director of Tulsa Community College's Continuing Education Department to honest-to-god director. She was now her own boss, answering only to the president of the college and her board. And she was the youngest director at the college. But she had always believed in her management skills and knew beyond any doubt she was savvy in choosing teachers and classes that appealed to the adults in the community. Under her influence the adult ed department had become a popular, successful addition to the college curriculum.

She'd just never thought she could use the same logic and positive thought process to fix the lacks in her personal life. No. It was more than that. As she read the book and really thought about self-fulfilling prophecies she realized that she'd been self-fulfilling her personal ineptness that had started in high school. And boy did that seem silly. Basically hateful teenagers were still influencing her—a grown-ass woman. But this book was going to help her change all of that; it was going to give her a whole new viewpoint. The more she read, the more intrigued she became. It was filled with matriarchal beliefs all centering around the value of today's women and what was, apparently, an ancient belief in the divinity of the feminine. What a magical thought! That she was special and worthy of love, just because she held a piece of the Divine Feminine within her! It was heady, really, and more intoxicating than the wonderful pomegranate martini she was savoring.

She devoured the book and even ordered a second pomegranate martini. Why not splurge a little? She was, after all, a fabulous woman who deserved to be touched by the strong, sexy spark of the Divine Feminine! Pea turned eagerly to the final chapter, “Know Venus—Evoke the Goddess!” Her eyes scanned the relatively short chapter, widening in surprise. It said that she had to memorize the invocation prayer to Venus, and then as she was pleasuring herself to orgasm, she was supposed to recite the invocation aloud. The Goddess of Love would then hear her and bless her with the power of love and beauty, confidence and desire. In other words, all the things Pea so desperately desired.

Okay, sure, it sounded bizarre—to masturbate while she was reciting a goddess invocation, and the old Pea would never had done such a thing. Actually the old Pea had never been very comfortable with the whole masturbation issue. Sure, she did it, but not very often and she always felt, well,
embarrassed
afterward. But that was the old Pea, and the old Pea was an insecure dork. The new Pea turned the page and began memorizing the invocation.

And then she was supposed to orgasm. Pea sighed. It was going to take some serious memorization to get all of that right. So she got to work, taking the invocation line by line while she gnawed on the raw veggies left on the antipasto tray and tried not to gulp her second martini. A sudden vibrating sound and a gale of musical laughter totally interrupted her concentration. Pea looked up from the book and had to stifle her own giggles. Two utterly gorgeous women were sipping martinis while they passed back and forth a humongous black dildo, which was now vibrating for all it was worth. Pea couldn't believe she hadn't noticed them there before. They were the kind of women even women stared at. From her little tucked away corner table it was easy for Pea to watch them without being obvious. How in the world could two women have such totally perfect hair? One woman, who looked like she might be the younger of the two, although neither of them looked a day older than thirty, had long, thick brunette hair that was the color of rich earth or expensive mahogany furniture. The other woman's hair was long, too, lapping down well past her shoulder blades in bountiful, sun-filled waves. No, that wasn't right. Her hair was more silver/white than gold—more like moonlight than sunlight—but it did shimmer and shine like a precious metal.

Automatically Pea's hand went to her own hair. Even though it was still pulled severely back in a ponytail from ballet class, she could feel the brown frizzies that habitually escaped from it. Her hair was long, too. Really long. Of course no one could tell that except when it was wet. After it dried it kinked up into a puffy brown fuzz-balled mess. No matter how much brushing she did it never straightened out and acted right. Never. She'd even tried going to one of those cool ethnic salons filled with brown-skinned beauties with incredible hair and asking for straightening help. The stylist had been nice, but the stuff she'd put in her hair had just made it greasy, as well as frizzy. She really was the same hopeless mess she'd been forever….

No! Pea shook herself mentally and stuck her nose back in the goddess book. She was done with that defeatist attitude. There was no way the Divine Feminine knowledge of Venus could thrive in such a negative space.

But memorizing was difficult when the drop-dead gorgeous women were having such a fun, animated conversation. Pea couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, but she loved watching them. She chewed a piece of raw broccoli, wishing she hadn't eaten all of the imported cheese and prosciutto. Maybe she should go nuts and order another appetizer….

Male voices pulled her attention from the two women and she felt a little zap of shock as she recognized the first man in the door. It was Griffin! Actually it was all of the firemen who had answered the call about Chloe. They were still in their casual navy blue uniforms with Tulsa Fire Department printed in faded gold across their chests and backs. They filled up the long bar, joking and flirting with the chic lady Pea recognized as Lola, the owner of the restaurant.

Reluctantly Pea turned her attention from the firemen—Griffin in particular—back to the beautiful women. Rocklike, her heart sank into her stomach. Of course the two of them had noticed the entrance of one entire shift of firemen. And it was only a matter of time before the firemen, in turn, noticed the gorgeous women. Then what would happen next was more than predictable. The women would join the men and flirt and talk and laugh and probably get dates. The blonde was the most stunning of the stunning, and Griffin was her equal in masculine beauty. Of course they'd notice each other. How could they not? Beautiful people like that were made to be together. They'd probably fall in love, get married and have a litter of totally beautiful children. How depressing.

In the meantime, no damn body would notice her.

“Pea, can I get you anything else?”

The waitress's question made her jump and Pea could feel her cheeks heating at being caught staring at the two women. It made her feel like she was a kid up past her bedtime stealing a peek at the adult world. Nervously she stood up and grabbed her purse. She'd cover her ridiculous embarrassment by going to the ladies' room. Pea opened her mouth to tell the waitress that no thanks, she was finished and she'd just take the check, when, to her eternal mortification, what came out instead of words was the biggest, loudest, stinkiest burp in the history of the known universe. It seemed to echo against the glass liquor-filled cabinets that covered the wall behind the bar and hang in an odoriferous broccoli cloud around her. For a change, instead of being invisible, the entire restaurant turned to stare at Pea.

“Damn, girl! That one sounded ripe,” said a fireman who had graying hair and the beginnings of a pot belly. He slapped his thick thigh and chortled.

Pea wanted to die. She wanted to melt into the floor and slither under the door so that she could re-form outside in the parking lot far away from everyone who was still staring at her and then quietly and privately die. Naturally instead of doing something calm and cool and collected, like putting a couple of twenties on the table and sauntering out the door, Pea blurted, “Excuse me. Sorry. Raw veggies always give me gas.” She heard the hysterical giggle and realized that it was coming from her mouth. Why couldn't she make it stop? Finally she was able to say with a gasp, “I'll take my check after I go to the ladies' room.”

Keeping her head down, she practically sprinted past the men at the bar and the two gorgeous women. She could feel their eyes on her and she knew her face was, ironically, bright, shining, fire truck red. Escaping to the ladies' room she darted into a stall and buried her hot face in her hands. It was going to take a lot more studying before she was ready to be undorked by Venus or anyone else.

 

As Hera silently watched Vulcan study the images in his sacred fire, she reminded herself that she should always follow her intuition. Her instincts had told her to check on her son. Quietly. And here he was, seeming to be enchanted by the scene being played out before him. Hera, too, felt herself becoming intrigued as she watched the vision in the fire. The magical thread Vulcan had sent after Venus and Persephone was functioning much as an oracle. It was an opening to another time or place—and in this case—another world. Persephone and Venus could clearly be seen sitting at a table in an opulent eating establishment. As was typical of the goddesses, they were laughing and generally making merry.

Then, unexpectedly, the focus of the magic thread shifted. Hera decided the girl's shy giggle must have been what first caught her son's attention. Then she had to cover her mouth with her hand and stifle her own surprised laughter, which would probably have not been heard over Vulcan's snort of amusement, as both mother and son noticed the title of the book the mortal was reading.

“
Discover the Goddess Within—Unleash Venus and Open Your Life to Love
. Indeed,” Vulcan muttered, voice thick with sarcasm. “It's always Venus—always she who gets credit for creating love.”

Hera stayed very still. She'd never heard her son speak of Venus except in terms of kindness and respect, even though all of Olympus knew that their marriage had been a sham from its inception. Rumor said, though she'd not heard the words directly from her son, that Venus and Vulcan had agreed upon a marriage of convenience because joining with the Goddess of Love should have made Vulcan appear more powerful—more Olympian—more accepted by the rest of the gods. And, in turn, joining with the God of Fire gave Venus the excuse she needed when she wanted to absent herself from the constant pursuits of those who longed to possess Love. Hera had always thought the arrangement served Venus much better than it did her son. The Goddess of Love did escape to her husband's realm in the bowels of Olympus when she was weary, and she reemerged refreshed and invigorated. But being married to Love had not made Vulcan more accepted. That it had been clear from the beginning that it was a marriage of convenience had actually worked against Vulcan. The general opinion of the immortals was haughty disbelief. How could one be married to Love, but remain untouched by her?

“Pea?” Vulcan said, and then actually laughed. “What type of name is Pea?”

Hera just stood there and shook her head silently, continuing to be amazed at her son's show of interest in the small, ordinary-looking mortal.

A horrid sound emanating from the oracle flame brought Hera's attention back to the scene from the modern world. The shy young mortal named Pea had expressed gas! Noisily and messily and in front of everyone! The goddess watched as she fled from the room. How unfortunate for her.

“They should leave her be! She's humiliated enough without others making it worse,” Vulcan said with a growl.

Indeed?
Hera thought how interesting it was that her son was showing such interest. The invisible thread of fire followed Pea, so that Hera could see her embarrassment. Vulcan watched, too, and made another angry sound low in his throat. Hmm…he was clearly identifying with the mortal woman. A sudden thought struck Hera. Perhaps that was it! Perhaps Vulcan had seemed unable to love because he had long been surrounded by the perfection of Olympus, and perfection had always rejected him. Perhaps he simply needed someone with whom he could identify—someone who might actually need him. She studied the mortal woman with the odd name more closely. It certainly looked like she needed something. Could that something be the love of the God of Fire?

“What is she doing?” Vulcan continued to mutter at the scene within the flames. Hera saw Pea standing at a sink, staring at herself in a mirror while she almost manically recited a—

Hera smiled. The child was a careful reader. She was reciting, over and over, an invocation spell that could only have come from the book that still lay open on the table where Pea had left it. Now wasn't this becoming a lovely twist on an already interesting situation? Hera's mind whirred with ideas…schemes…Wouldn't it be deliciously and ironically just if the invocation actually bound Venus's aid, which would in turn assure that Vulcan would continue to watch the mortal woman who had so unexpectedly captured his attention? It was, after all, Venus who Vulcan's magic thread was following. Yes, this was working out perfectly!