“She and Lou were only blessed with two children. My boys, now there are big families. They each have at least six kids.” Pia smiled and nodded her head in approval at her sons’ virility.
“Angela and Lou, not so lucky, but their two are good kids. They think I’m mean though from my insisting they learn to speak Italian.” Lost in her memories, she grew silent for a minute. “Gino is Bella’s younger brother.” Once again she paused and Sif understood the display of emotions that played across the lined face. “He has come to realize he is of the Roman persuasion.” A quick nod emphasized the old woman’s acceptance of the statement.
“Great. Just what the human world needs. More perversion.” Loki wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“The Roman persuasion. I am not familiar with that term.”
“He prefers men, my goddess.”
“I see, and why should you find this so distasteful, Lord of Pranks? You know there are gods who prefer both sexes, especially in the Greek world.” Sif used her haughtiest tone to halt the reply she saw him ready to make. If Pia became part of their family, there was no need to create hard feelings through inconsiderate words.
“Gino is a good boy. His Tom is a good man, too. You will like them and they will like you.” Pia smiled at Sif and looked over at Loki. “You, I’m not so sure they will like.”
The goddess gave a slight frown at Loki as Pia shuffled to the tiny kitchen area and stopped his response.
Returning with the coffee pot, she poured refills. “I have a question. Does my Bella know what you people are?”
You people. To think, it came down to such a simple term to describe the differences between them. “Yes.” Sif returned the penetrating gaze.
No longer able to tolerate being ignored, Loki took over and Sif sipped from her cup to hide her smile.
“Not only does she know who we are, she has visited our world. Galvin felt the trip important to help her believe the truth of what he told her about himself.” The little deity’s chest puffed out reminding Sif of an adder ready to strike.
“I see. Our Bella is strong willed and with a mind of her own. I wonder where she gets all that stubbornness from.”
“I wonder.” Loki muttered loud enough to earn a frown from both women.
“Mama, are you home?” Angela Girardi called as she came through the door. “Do you want to walk down to the bakery with me? I thought we could have…” She paused and looked around the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you have company.”
Pia beamed at her daughter. “Come in Assai. Come meet Galvin’s mother and this…” she paused and frowned when her eyes fell on Loki. A smile broke through the frown. “And this is Galvin’s uncle.”
“This is my daughter, Angela.”
The pride in the old woman’s voice confirmed to Sif this was Pia’s favorite child.
“Really. Galvin’s family.” Angela pulled a chair over to the table and made herself at home. “We adore your son. He and our Isabella make such a beautiful couple, don’t you think?”
Sif leaned back in her chair and let Angela prattle. The goddess had no doubt at the end of this visit she’d know the history of Isabella’s family as well as the young woman’s embarrassments.
She glanced over at Loki and saw the boredom etched on his face. Too bad, he could just suck it up as the mortals would say.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Thanks.” Isabella grabbed the triple shot latté and took a swig on her way out the door of her favorite coffee house. “Damn! Hot!” She burned her tongue on the scalding brew, desperate in her need for all the caffeine she could ingest today.
Exhausted from lack of sleep mulling over the visit with the Valkyrie Queen and all the negatives the immortal pointed out left her mind in turmoil and she’d been unable to get an hour of the needed body recharge, let alone eight.
Then throw in her mother’s summons to come over only added more anxiety to an already full plate. Angela’s discovery of Gino and his lover in a comprising situation left her in hysterics and she wanted her daughter to vent to. Yeah right, like she could fix that.
Enough of her family’s problems. She needed to focus on her own and decide what to do about her relationship with Galvin Haldor. Or am I the only one who thinks we’re in a relationship? He is the one who disappeared this morning without even a goodbye.
“Okay, so I was reluctant to tell him about the conversation with the Warrior Goddess.” Isabella bumped into a large man who stopped in front of her. “Excuse me,” she mumbled.
Ignoring the, “Watch where you’re going lady,” Isabella continued with her thoughts on last night and mumbling to herself.
What started as a silly remark on his part had turned into a game and some of the hottest sex she’d ever experienced. Mostly she preferred her sex vanilla, but the sound of his hand connecting with her flesh and the heated sting of her skin awakened something in her she didn’t know existed.
“Yeah, I could get into a little more of that.” The woman standing beside her as they waited for the light to change gave her an odd look.
Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled. “Sorry, just thinking out loud.
Afterwards, snuggled against him, his prodding resulted in her spilling her guts on the conversation with Freya and the doubts that slipped into her mind, no matter how hard she resisted them. He laughed and kissed her.
“Don’t sweat the small stuff.”
Easy for him to say. She’d been the one tossing and turning in bed last night while the man who stolen her heart slept peacefully. Thoughts on what Freya pointed out to her during their little chat had replayed through her mind. Thor said the same thing, but coming from another female the words had held merit. Being slapped a second time with the reality of their predicament gave the situation a different perspective.
“What have I got myself into here?”
The facts were there, unable to avoid, as much as she wanted to. She was mortal and human lifespan was but a blink of an eye in Galvin’s world. Would he love her more or less in the years to come? That question continued to spin around in her head until the wee hours of the morning and now she was a walking zombie.
Isabella pushed her way through a group of teens blocking the street.
“Hey lady, look where you’re going.”
This must be her day for rude people. Shooting a ‘don’t mess with me’ glare at the skinny, pimple faced boy, she continued on her way, ignoring the “dumb bitch” remark thrown in her direction.
If Galvin loved her more, how much pain would her death at the end of her life’s journey create for him? Could his love be blind to her aging? She could see it now…the two of them out for a walk, he pushing her wheel chair and hearing all the comments from passerby’s on what a dutiful son…grandson…he was. Her skin crawled at the thought.
Age presented issues for her, too. How would she feel when she looked in the mirror and saw her face growing older and his never changing? Hell, she hated the wrinkles around her eyes now, almost convincing herself they were laugh lines. That illusion would no longer exist thirty years from now, sitting across the table from the unlined face of the man she loved.
And that was the problem. She loved him. It wasn’t just the great sex, like she told herself in the beginning. No, she was in love…head over heels in love. She’d finally met the first, and knew he’d be the on only man, whose company she enjoyed on every level. His sense of humor delighted her; he showed compassion in little ways, such as with her grandmother. Hell, they even liked the same music.
A gust of fall wind hit her when she turned the last corner on her way to the building that housed the television station offices. Memories of the storm chase came flooding back. No wonder Galvin kept a low profile during their mad dash through the country side in search of a tornado. He knew what his father was up to and that he’d be the one to fight the war with the old man over control of the weather.
Nope, she was insane. Way out of her leag
ue here. These freaking people were immortal gods. They’d been around so long people considered them myths.
“Okay, decision made.” Her relationship with Galvin Haldor had to come to an end for both their sakes.
Dumping her purse in the usual drawer of her desk, a heavy sensation settled in her heart. Maybe she shouldn’t be so hasty. They were two intelligent people who could figure this out.
“Hello, Earth to Isabella.”
Good grief, when did Sandy scoot her chair over to the edge of the desk? “Sorry, didn’t see you.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You were in another world.” The intern flashed a grin and rolled her eyes.
If only she knew how right, she was. “Don’t give me crap. You have a few of those moments yourself.”
“True.” Sandy shrugged. “Just wondered if you were part of whatever weirdness is going on around here?”
“What do you mean?” She’d been so lost in her own problems she’d blocked out Sam’s discovery of his wife’s affair and how it might affect the station.
“Well, it seems our slimy male anchor is no longer part of the family and the lovely prize winning bee—otch female anchor is nowhere to be seen.” Sandy glanced around the room. “And take a look at how everyone has their heads buried. You’d think they were turkeys in a turkey shoot the way they’re afraid to raise them.”
A quick scan of the room proved the observation was a good one. “See what you mean.”
“Where’s Sam?” The blinds that covered the station manager’s windows along the newsroom were open and the lights in the office were off.
“Haven’t seen him either. What did he want to discuss with you yesterday? You were pretty quiet after you came out of his office.”
Should she be honest and tell Sandy that Sam found out about the little game being played out right under his nose? Adding her boss’s problems to her own made Isabella’s head hurt. No, not necessary. Instead, she’d go add a slug of wicked black brew from the employee break room to her cold latté. Maybe if she nosed around in there a little she’d find out about what was going on.
“You know Sam. He goes on about a lot of nothing.” Shrugging, she picked up her cup. “Me, I’m going to add some acid producer from the lounge to heat this up. Want me to get you some?”
Sandy’s blonde ponytail swung back in forth, hitting her cheeks, she shook her head so vehemently. “No thanks. The earlier cup I had ate the spoon I used to stir. God only knows what it’s doing to the lining of my stomach.”
Back at her desk and depressed by the lack of information obtained from her trip to the break room, Isabella focused on work. She’d just finished the calculations for the six o’clock weather broadcast when she saw Sam come in.
He stumbled across the newsroom and disappeared into his office and closed the blinds, not speaking to anyone. The man looked like he needed a friend. I probably should go talk to him. I’ve never seen Sam like this. Isabella pushed up from her chair and started toward Sam’s office, when Joanne Kent swept by with same short, heavy-set man from a few days ago trailing behind her. The haughty bitch didn’t bother to knock before stomping into her husband’s office.
Everyone in the room kept casting glances at the door over the next half hour. When it opened, Joanne stormed out with the stranger hot on her heels.
Sam’s angry face spoke more loudly than words as he faced his staff. “Every fucking one of you is fired. Get the hell out of here now.”
“Oh shit, he’s drunk.” Sandy whispered to Isabella. “What should we do?”
He staggered over to the desk closest to him. “I mean it. Get your shit and get the hell out of my newsroom. I don’t need a bunch of back-stabbing traitors working for me.” He picked up a book from the desk and threw it across the room and then proceeded to start pitching everything on the desk at anyone close. People scattered in a mad rush for the elevator and stairs.
“Don’t you think we should probably go, too?” Sandy pulled on Isabella’s arm.
“You go ahead. I’m going to go do some voice-overs and let him cool off. Once he sobers up I’ll be able to talk to him. My guess is Joanne and friend set-off this little episode.” Isabella pulled her arm free and gathered the items she needed.
She slipped into the sound proof recording booth and began the work on the update of the daily spots for the radio stations they supported with weather information. When she finished, she’d check and see if Sam was sober enough to talk some sense into. The news team consisting of the weekend anchors she’d called to come in would be on the air in less than three hours.
Done. Rolling her shoulders, Isabella tried to work some of the tiredness out of her body. A glance at the gold watch on her wrist told she’d only been in the sound proof room twenty minutes. Maybe she’d just put her head down for a few minutes and close her eyes. Sam needed a little more time to sober up.
The silence lulled her sleep deprived body into relaxation and weights pulled her eyelids closed. A little nap couldn’t hurt and would give her the energy she needed to face her boss. Yawning, she laid her head on her arms and gave in to the lure of sleep.
Strange, how did a fog bank accumulate outside the window? Her eyes had never been this messed up after a nap. “Must have slept longer than I thought.” Isabella looked at her watch. “Oh shit!” She was due to give the weather for the six o’clock news broadcast and if she didn’t hustle her butt, she’d be late. It would be interesting to see who replaced her non-favorite pair of co-anchors.
“Damn, my eyes are still foggy.” She rubbed the lids again and blinked. “What the hell?” The grey cloud covering the window was still there. Something strange was happening here. Was Thor up to another of his tricks?
Well, she didn’t have time to worry over what games a whacked-out Nordic deity played to amuse himself. She had a weather forecast to give and then have a little chat with Sam. Maybe by then the station manager would be sober enough to listen to reason.
Pulling open the door on her way out of the booth, the shrill of the fire alarm and the scent of smoke assaulted her. The dense gray air attacked her nose and stung her eyes. “Oh my God, the place is on fire!”
The soundproof room had blanketed her in a protective shell from the noise of the alarm and the smell.
Panic surged through her. She swallowed hard in an effort to gain control and think clearly. “Let’s see. Smoke rises. Best to stay close to the floor.” The sound of her voice helped her focus. She could talk herself out of this mess.
Crawling along the floor she kept a flow of conversation going. “Sandy, why in hell didn’t you come and warn me? Oh yeah, that’s right. She left. I told her to leave when Sam…”
Sam. He may still be here. Should I check? She sat back on her heels and tried to see across the room. Blinded by tears and a burning throat from the dense smoke, she placed her face to the floor.
Rest, she needed to regroup. Galvin’s face floated in front of her eyes. “I’m sorry I was such a fool to listen to the others and not give us a chance.” Squeezing her eyes tighter, she fought back the vision of the man she loved so dearly. No time for that right now. Galvin wasn’t here, but given her boss’s earlier condition, if he passed out, he was probably still in his office.
A scream tore from Isabella’s scorched throat. “Sam, are you here?” She lay listening. The only sound she heard was the crackling of flames, from the direction of Sam’s office, as they ate their way through the newsroom.
“Get out of here. You can’t save Sam. No way can you get to his office. Find the exit.” She slithered along the floor on her stomach in an effort to stay out of as much smoke as possible. “Think, think. Exit. Where is the exit from here?” A picture of the room’s lay out popped into her mind. “Right, go right.”
Her head bumped into something hard and she opened her streaming eyes and made out the pot that contained the palm tree the travel editor kept by her desk. “Okay, the elevators are on your left and the stairs wi
ll be another twenty feet beyond.” She moved forward.
“What was that?” A coughing spasm drowned out any sound she may have heard. When the racking subsided, she lay still, listening. “There it is again.”
It sounded like someone calling. “Sam. Sam is that you?”
A faint, “Help,” reached her ears.
She couldn’t be sure that was Sam’s voice, but she couldn’t just go on and leave whoever it was. They needed help.
“Talk to me. Say something so I can locate you.”
“Here! I’m over here!” The frantic voice came from the direction of Sam’s office. It could be him. She was too scared and exhausted to know for sure. Whoever it was needed help and she couldn’t just leave them.
Another series of coughs racked her body and her lungs burned from inhaling smoke. Inching her way toward the voice the heat grew more intense. She was close; the voice was almost in her ear. Her hand touched something hard.
“Damn.” She tried to push the object out of her way.
“No. No, it’s my hat.” A hand grabbed hers.
“Hat?” The word registered in her clouded mind, but not the meaning.
“I’m a fireman.” The raspy voice paused and Isabella could hear his labored breathing. “My partner and I…pulled a man out…of an office.” He stopped in between efforts to talk, to gasp for air. “I tripped…think my leg is broken…twisted the other one…lost my oxygen mask.”
“Okay. I need to focus for a minute.” Isabella attempted to bring the floor plan to mind again. “I think if we go this way.” She scooted around to face the direction she thought would get them out.
How the hell was she going to do this? A man with two bum legs and the smoke so thick standing made breathing next to impossible. Tears of frustration and fear mingled with the ones generated by the polluted air.
“If I pull on your shoulders, do you think you can push with the leg that’s not broken?”
Nordic Heat Page 20
