A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3) by Tina Folsom, Cynthia Cooke Page B

“It’s a really bad movie. Really bad.” He glared at a soul attempting to pull itself up by grabbing Hermes’ shirt. “Lots of blood and gore, no plot.” Then he wrenched the soul’s hand free of himself and tossed the unfortunate toward the bank of the river.
    “Well, I’m glad.” She paused for a moment. “Not about the bad movie, of course. Just that I’m not disturbing.”
    He grinned to himself. Disturbing? “You could never disturb me. I’ve been thinking about you.”
    A nervous chuckle came through the line. “Thanks.”
    When another soul tugged at him, trying to pull him back under, Hermes had had enough. He kicked his sandals into gear, and like little propellers, they lifted him out of the water, off the little clump of sharp rocks, and transported him to the far bank of the river, which was virtually empty. Finally, he could concentrate on the phone call.
    “It’s true. If you hadn’t called, I would have called you.”
    “To say what?” she fished.
    “That I’d like to see you again. Soon.”
    “How soon?”
    “Tonight?”
    She laughed. “Oh. Uh, how about lunch tomorrow?”
    A tad disappointed that this was no booty call after all, he turned his back to the river. “Lunch? I’d like that.” He reached down and gave himself a soothing rub. Sorry, buddy, you’ll have to wait a little longer, he consoled his aching cock. He was definitely hungry for her, and a little afternoon delight was exactly what he needed after a night like tonight, but the wait would be excruciating. “Where should I meet you?” he asked.
    “How about the Garden Inn at noon?”
    “I’ll see you there.”
    “Good night,” she said and disconnected the line.
    For a moment, he stood there and replayed their conversation. Things were going better than he’d expected. Tomorrow, he’d have dessert after lunch. A dessert he’d savor and explore: Penny. And then he’d have seconds.
    But first, he’d have to deal with one other minor annoyance: Zeus.
    After having seen the state the underworld was in, because the workers were on strike to bargain for better benefits and more money, his anger at Zeus only grew. The river was clogged to the point of overflowing, with more and more souls trying to cross it on their own, not wanting to wait until the ferry service was reinstated.
    The last thing Zeus should be doing right now was running off for some romantic dalliance in New York City, instead of taking care of his business in the underworld where he was needed. It was time Zeus, as well as Hades, took responsibility for this. Without using him as a punching bag in the middle! It was time Hermes went on strike. Only then would those two stubborn idiots work out their differences.
    Having made up his mind, Hermes dialed the new cell phone he’d given Zeus. Of course, the line just rang and rang, mushrooming Hermes’ anger into a nuclear cloud. He waited for the beep, then left a message, his jaw stiff, his teeth clenched.
    “Father, I delivered your contract. Hades had a fit over the details, refused to sign, and threw me into the Styx. This situation will not be resolved until you come down here personally and negotiate with Hades. Until then, I’m out of it. In fact, consider me on vacation until further notice. In other words, find yourself another messenger boy!” He disconnected the line, feeling strangely relieved and curiously free, as if unshackled for the first time in a century after not even being aware he’d been bound.
    He looked at the miserable souls passing him by, the dark gothic castle in the distance, turned his back on it all, and walked away.
    ***
    Penny hadn’t been sleeping well. When she wasn’t tossing and turning over the prospect of losing her job, she was worried about her dad and what he wanted from them. And she had to find a way to tell her grandmother about his visit.
    Now she stood in the kitchen of Grams’ bungalow over the stove, making breakfast and feeling on edge.