A Hush of Greek (Out of Olympus Book 4) Page 2

  Deciding not to dignify these unreasonable words with an answer, Dio let go of Thoas’s hand and bent toward the kid. “Wanna say hi to Grandpa?”

  “No!” Thoas proclaimed and suddenly wrapped his arms around Dio’s leg and held on for dear life. He had to hand it to his son: he had good instincts. It was better not to approach the old man when he was in one of his moods.

  Zeus only briefly glanced at the boy, nodded quickly, and said, “Later then.” Then he looked at Dio, Triton, and Hermes, his expression one of determination. This was no family visit. The god of gods had come to discuss business.

  Dio exchanged a quick look with his two friends, but both remained silent, clearly just as clueless as he about who’d pissed off Zeus this time.

  “Now that we’re finally all assembled, let me get to the point,” Zeus started, his voice deep and gravelly, much like the thunder that often rumbled through the sky in this part of the world. “Eros is out of line.”

  A collective sigh of relief went through the room. It seemed Dio hadn’t been the only one who’d assumed that he’d done something to anger Zeus.

  “What do you mean, out of line?” Hermes dared ask.

  Bad move. Zeus turned his glare on Dio’s half-brother. “He’s refusing to shoot his arrows.”

  “Oh,” Hermes murmured and dropped his gaze to his winged sandals.

  Triton grunted something unintelligible, and Dio coughed, while patting his son’s hair. They were all aware that their good friend was in a slump and was taking a break from his usual activities. Apparently that fact had finally come to Zeus’s attention.

  “Fuck me!” Zeus cursed. “You all knew about this? And none of you thought it necessary to inform me earlier?”

  A lot of shoulder shrugging followed Zeus’s question. What was there to say?

  “He just needs some time off,” Dio said, hoping Zeus would cut Eros some slack. The guy had been through a lot.

  “Yeah,” Triton chimed in, “he’ll be as good as new soon.”

  “Totally,” Hermes added.

  Zeus took a step toward Dio. “Time off? He’s a fucking god! He doesn’t get time off. He needs to be taught a lesson he’ll never forget. Do you have any idea what his inaction is doing to the world?”

  “So a few less people fall in love.” Dio shrugged. “No big deal.”

  “No big deal?” Zeus was right in his face now. “Let me explain to you what a big fucking deal it is.” He glared at Triton and Hermes to make it clear that the explanation was meant for all of them. “There’s a housing shortage, because young people are living on their own. They’re not moving in together anymore. They’re not shacking up, not getting engaged, not getting married. Businesses are closing: florists, wedding planners. Even restaurants. Nobody’s going on dates, nobody’s buying flowers for their new love. Hotels complain about huge vacancies, particularly on weekends, when the business travelers are home. There are no young couples going on vacations together. Birthrates are down dramatically. Hospitals are letting midwives and nurses go.”

  Dio cleared his throat. “Surely, people are still having sex. I mean—”

  “Yes, they’re still having sex,” Zeus shot him down and pulled a cell phone from his pocket, pointing to it. “That’s all they’re having. They use some App to hook up. Tinger or something.”

  “Tinder?” Hermes asked.

  Zeus narrowed his eyes at the messenger god.

  Hermes quickly raised his hands in defense. “Must have read an article about it recently. Never used it myself, of course. Penny and I, we’re very happy.”

  Dio could attest to that. The couple couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and the sight was positively nauseating.

  “Yeah, whatever. The only thing that’s up in this economy is the stock price of this Tinder App and condom sales. But all these people do is have sex. There’s no emotional connection. No interest in relationships. They see no future. This world is doomed because of Eros. Because he’s had his fucking heart broken by some floozy.”

  “It was a tough breakup,” Triton defended his friend. “He loved her.”

  Zeus made a dismissive hand movement. “Bullshit! That boy has never truly loved any woman. He has no idea what true love is. Otherwise he wouldn’t deny happiness to millions of mortals.”

  Dio sighed. “Why don’t you try talking to him? I’m sure he’ll come ‘round once you’ve made your point.”

  “What the fuck do you think I did yesterday?” Zeus growled. “I summoned him. And what does he do? He practically spits in my face and tells me to kiss his ass.”

  Dio looked at his two friends. Both grimaced. Yes, what Zeus described sounded very much like something Eros would do.

  “And he refused point blank to shoot any more arrows,” Zeus continued.

  Dio lifted his hands in resignation. “Then I’m not sure what you want from us. All we can do is help him through this, and eventually, he’ll be back to his usual self.”

  A sly smile formed on Zeus’s lips. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. Where you’re all wrong.” He pointed at the three of them. “You’re going to make sure he starts shooting his arrows again. You have one month.”

  “What?” Hermes choked out.

  “But how?” Triton grumbled.

  Dio shook his head. “He needs time to heal.”

  “Bullshit! He needs to get his head out of his ass and do his duty. And the three of you are going to make sure that’s exactly what he does.”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Dio said, sighing heavily. “You can’t force things like this.”

  Zeus narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “I’ll bet you’ll consider otherwise when you realize what’s at stake for all of you.”

  Dio swallowed hard. He didn’t like Zeus’s tone; whenever he employed that tone, bad news was coming. “At stake for us?”

  “You have one month from today to get Eros back in the archery business. Or I’ll ban all three of you from the mortal world and confine you to Olympus.” He paused for effect. “Without your wives.” He looked down to where Thoas was still hanging onto Dio’s leg. “Or your children.”

  Dio’s heart stopped, and instinctively he pulled his son up into his arms, pressing him to his chest and holding him tight. “That’s bullshit. You can’t do that.”

  “I can, and I will.”

  As the threat rippled through the room, Dio could sense that Triton and Hermes were in the same state as he. Neither wanted to lose their family. Both of them had married for true love and were prepared to risk everything for the women who owned their hearts.

  Sobering, he asked, “What do you expect us to do?”

  “Make him believe in love again.”

  “But how?”

  “That’s up to you. But be quick about it. My patience is wearing thin.”

  Before anybody could say anything else, Zeus vanished in front of their eyes.

  Thoas stretched his arm out to where his grandfather had stood only moments earlier and blurted, “Zip-zip, bullshit.”

  Dio wanted to curse. “Thoas!” Not only had Zeus given them an impossible task, but he’d also just taught his two-year-old son his first swearword. “Ari is going to kill me.”

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He turned his head and found Hermes frowning at him. “That’s the least of our problems right now. Besides, you’re immortal. She’ll probably just withhold sex for a few weeks. You’ll be fine. You’ve done it before and survived it.”

  Dio didn’t miss the underhanded punch. Before their marriage, Ari had dealt him the abstinence card in order to get back at him for his terrible behavior toward her. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “What are friends for?”

  “Can we get to the problem at hand?” Triton interrupted.

  Hermes nodded, as did Dio.

  “We need to sit Eros down and tell him what’s at stake. I’m sure once he sees reason, he’ll turn this whole thing a
round,” Hermes claimed.

  Dio shook his head. “He’s too stubborn, and frankly, at the moment feeling too sorry for himself. He won’t budge. He’s already risking Zeus’s wrath. He’s got nothing else to lose.”

  Triton pushed away from his desk. “I agree with Dio. We tell Eros nothing about Zeus’s demand. It will only make him resist more.”

  “But if he knew what was at stake for us,” Hermes added, but Triton stopped him.

  “He can’t know about it or he’ll start an all-out war with Zeus. Love will be the last thing on his mind.”

  Hermes raised his hands. “So what do you suggest? We just wait for him to fucking get over it and start shooting again?”

  Dio grabbed his arm. “Hermes, not in front of my son.”

  “What?”

  “You said fuck.”

  “Oh sorry.” Hermes shrugged. “But now you said it, too.”

  Dio sighed.

  “I have an idea. Anybody want to hear it?” Triton asked casually.

  Heads turned to him. “Shoot,” Dio said.

  “When he and Gloria broke up, he lost his belief in true love. Ergo, we have to make him believe in love again. Simple.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?” Hermes asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Easy: make him fall in love.”

  “But—”

  “Gods don’t need the help of Eros’s arrows to fall in love. We just have to find the right woman for him and make sure the circumstances work out so that he opens his heart. It’s a little manipulative, but once we throw them together and the chemistry is right, we just have to sit back and wait.”

  “May I remind you that we only have a month?” Dio said. He stroked his hand over his son’s soft hair. “And I’m not leaving Ari or my son.”

  “You won’t have to,” Triton assured him. “Not if we work together and find the right woman. We all know what he likes in terms of looks and personality. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “What about the woman? What if she isn’t receptive?” Hermes asked, his voice full of doubt.

  “Have you ever met a woman who was able to resist Eros when he turned on his charm?” Triton asked.

  Dio started grinning, and Hermes joined him. Eros had a way with the ladies. Resistance was futile once he set his sights on somebody.

  “Good,” Triton concluded. “Let’s get to work then. Let’s find him a woman he won’t be able to keep his hands off.”

  “Agreed. Let’s do this.” Dio looked at Thoas. “Right, son?”

  His son gave him a toothless grin as if he’d understood every word the men had spoken.

  “Okay,” Triton said, all businesslike. “Who do we know?”

  3

  Psyche heaved the potting soil from the back of her old pickup truck and hoisted it over her shoulder. She’d already carried her gardening tools into the garden of the Olympus Inn, a B&B she did flower arrangements for. On-site gardening wasn’t usually part of her service, however, after many of her other steady jobs had dried up—namely providing flowers for engagement parties and weddings—she’d approached Sophia, the owner of the inn, to ask if she wanted her garden spruced up.

  She’d been in luck. Sophia, a sweet woman her own age, had proclaimed that she’d been searching for a gardener since she and her husband Triton couldn’t do the work themselves any longer. Neither of them had a green thumb, she’d claimed. Whether it was true, or whether Sophia had somehow guessed the dire situation Psyche was in and wanted to help, didn’t really matter. It was a job, and Psyche was grateful for it. Her small florist shop was in financial distress. She’d let her assistant go two months earlier, unable to continue paying her wages. But even with the severe cuts she’d made to her overheads, she wasn’t certain that her business would survive.

  Strangely, her flower business wasn’t the only one that was doing badly. She’d noticed that all over Charleston the smaller florists had closed shop. Only the larger ones and those who could get commercial work, such as providing floral services to corporate offices and public gardens, were surviving. Psyche was determined to be one of them and not let her dream of owning her own business die, even if that meant she had to cut back on other things.

  Psyche carried the heavy bag of soil into the garden and dropped it next to her tools. The garden was a beautiful oasis of colorful flowers, bushes, and small trees, with a tranquil fountain in the middle—though many of the plants needed tending to. Access from the huge villa was through French doors from the rooms on the ground level, as well as via a wooden staircase connected to the large porch on the second floor of the house. More French doors led from the house onto the porch. Several were open, and Psyche could hear the voices of several men drifting toward her.

  She looked up for a moment. The voices were coming from Triton’s office. She’d visited the inn almost every week for the last year, picking up her check at the same time as she took care of the flower arrangements inside the house. She’d fallen in love with the house the moment she’d first stepped inside. She considered working in its garden a privilege.

  A short while later, she wiped the sweat off her brow, admiring the new row of perennials she’d planted. She sat back on her heels and took a swig from her water bottle. It was rather warm even though it was only mid February. The fifteenth to be exact. And the only reason she knew the date, was because yesterday had been Valentine’s Day, and when she’d closed up at the end of the day, her sales hadn’t even added up to a quarter of her sales from the previous Valentine’s Day. Even the year before, Valentine’s Day hadn’t been stellar. She sighed. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

  “You okay, Psyche?”

  Psyche turned her head and saw Sophia descending the stairs from the balcony.

  She rose to her feet and smiled at her client. “Everything’s fine. Hope you like the colors.” She pointed to the row of newly planted flowers. “I thought you could use a little variety.”

  Sophia, dressed in slimming navy Capri pants and a loose cream colored blouse, joined her on the lawn. Her long dark hair grazed her shoulders and looked like she’d just stepped out of an expensive hair salon. Psyche could only imagine what she looked like in contrast. Most likely like a scarecrow, strands of hair having escaped her ponytail and dirt staining her ripped jeans and baby-blue tank top.

  With a glance at the flowers, Sophia said, “They’re gorgeous! I’m so glad you’re doing this. Triton and I just don’t have the time. There’s so much to do in the house with the guests, you know.”

  “I’m really grateful for the job. And it’s a wonderful property. I’ve always admired your garden. It has so much potential.” The moment she’d said it, she wanted to take it back. “I mean, I’m not trying to say it’s in bad shape or something—”

  With a hand on Psyche’s forearm, Sophia cut her off. “You can say it. We made a mess of it and should have hired you a long time ago. I’m afraid a lot of plants had to die in the meantime.” She grimaced, then laughed. “But I can see this place is in good hands now.”

  Psyche smiled back, not knowing how to respond to the compliment.

  “Oh, before I forget it,” Sophia added, “do you think we could switch your tending to the flower arrangements inside from Wednesdays to Thursdays? It’s just that I get most of our deliveries on Wednesdays and there are just too many people swarming around.”

  “That’s not a problem at all. I’d be happy to come by on Thursdays instead. It’s not like it’s very busy in the shop.”

  Sophia cast her a look of pity. “Not a lot of weddings going on, huh?”

  Psyche shook her head. “Even considering how many florists have already closed, there’s still not enough work for everybody.” She shrugged. “I’ll make do.” She tried for a laugh. “At least that gives me plenty of time for fighting with my insurance company.”

  Sophia’s forehead furrowed. “Are you telling me they still haven’t paid up?”

 
; “Nope. Not a cent.” She and Sophia had been discussing the water damage to her little condo on and off over the last few weeks. “They claim it was a pre-existing condition.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sophia huffed.

  “That’s what I told them too, but they said the previous owner should have disclosed it when I bought the place, or at the very least the building inspection should have revealed it. They told me to sue the previous owner.”

  Sophia shook her head in disgust. “Well, isn’t that typical? As soon as an insurance company is supposed to pay up, they blame somebody else. So what now?”

  Psyche lifted one shoulder in a helpless gesture. “I sent them the report from the plumber, who claims that the damage came from normal wear and tear. His professional opinion is that the previous owners wouldn’t have known about it either. So the insurance should cover it. But in order to do his report, he had to open up a lot more of the wall so he could really see what was going on. The place is practically uninhabitable right now.”

  “Oh, my! Are you staying in a hotel?”

  Psyche shook her head. “I wish! But since the insurance company is refusing to pay for the damage, they’re also refusing to pay for alternate accommodation. I’m sleeping in my office in the back of the shop. And I shower at the gym.”

  “I’m so sorry, Psyche,” Sophia said softly. “I wish I could help you. But we’re fully booked because of that Mystery Writers Convention that’s in town. And the week after there’s a big—”

  Psyche waved her off, interrupting quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I would never expect that. But thanks for offering; it’s really nice of you. I’m fine. And who knows, maybe the plumber’s report will finally sway the insurance company.”

  But she had her doubts. Still, it wasn’t Sophia’s problem that Psyche was sleeping on a lumpy couch in her office, because she couldn’t afford to rent another apartment. There was no room in her budget, not after paying the plumber and continuing to pay her mortgage and the rent for the shop.

  She smiled at Sophia and joked, “There are few moments when I regret not being in a relationship. Right now, a boyfriend with an apartment would come in handy.”