“This isn’t attitude, Mother. I have to tell you something.”
“You sure you don’t wanna go to bed, Lia?” David asked. “Rough night and everything?”
She saw it. A flash. A tiny spark of fear in his eyes. He’d been counting on her not telling her mother they’d slept together. He’d been banking on it. He’d been so certain that Lia was more noble than he was...
Well, he was wrong.
“David and I had sex when I was seventeen, Mum. That’s why he ran away from England. I told him to go after I found out he’d slept with you, too, the night after he had me.”
“What?” Her mother spun and faced David as her father came to his feet.
“That’s not true,” David said, almost sputtering in his fury. “You know it isn’t true. I would never...” He stood up and pointed at Lia. “She was obsessed with me. She told me so. I told her I wasn’t interested. She told me I had to leave the country or she’d tell you all I’d raped her.”
Her mother rose from the sofa and slapped him.
Slapped him. Just like that. One hard beautiful slap right across the cheek.
Guess her mother didn’t believe David’s story.
And her father sure as hell didn’t.
“You hurt my daughter?” he said. Not said so much as roared. A good old English roar.
“You both need to calm down.” David had his hands up now, not in mock surrender anymore. “You don’t want to make this ugly.”
“I’ll show you ugly when I’m done beating your face into a bloody pulp,” Daddy said as he approached David with murder in his eyes. “You’re twenty years older than she is. You were a guest in our house. We put a roof over your head. We paid you a fortune for that mural you didn’t bother finishing and that’s how you repay us? By hurting our daughter?”
Her father grabbed David by the shirt.
“Daddy, stop it!” Lia screamed. She couldn’t bear the thought of her father going to jail for attempted murder. “Stop it right now. He’s not worth it.”
“It’s worth it to me,” he said, looking at her with so much pity it ached.
“She’s the sane one in the room,” David said. “You do not want to get on my bad side here, okay? I can make life very difficult for all of you.”
“What’s he talking about?” her father asked. “Lia? What the hell is he saying? What’s going on?”
She saw David inching toward the door as if to make a break for it. Her father grabbed him again by the shirt and pushed him against the wall, not hitting him, but holding him there.
“I can have you arrested for this,” David said.
“Shut it,” her father said. “Lia, talk. Now.”
“Daddy, listen. Mum...I’m sorry. I’m not sorry about what I’ve done, but I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to tell you. I was in love with David and I did flirt with him and I did tell him I was in love with him, that’s true. He came to my room that night and we slept together. And the next night, I saw him with you, Mum.”
“Oh, Lia...” Her mother’s eyes swam with tears.
“It’s okay, Mummy,” she assured her. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. He knew.” She pointed at David. “He was using us both because he could. I was so angry and hurt that I told him he had to leave the house and never see you all again or I’d tell you we’d had sex. I never said I would tell you he’d raped me. You know I never would do that.” She’d never even considered doing something like that.
“Of course we know that, angel,” her mother said in the same tone Lia had said to August, Of course I love you.
“Angel?” David repeated. Her father shook him a little. Lia didn’t try to stop him.
“I wrote him a note and promised him if he left and never spoke to you all again, I would never tell you what he did to me,” Lia said. “I knew you’d blame yourself, Mum. I knew you’d be heartbroken, and I didn’t want you paying for what he did.”
“Sweetheart, I’m your mother. You always have to tell me things like this. You have to. You just... You’re my child. I protect you. You don’t protect me.”
“And I protect the both of you,” her father said. “I’m going to throw this bastard out on his head and make sure he never steps foot in this country ever again.”
“You don’t want to do that,” David said. “You absolutely do not want to do that.”
“And why is that?” Daddy demanded.
“Because he knows something about me,” Lia said with a heavy sigh. “He knows I did something illegal.”
“Who hasn’t?” her father asked. “What did you do? Slap a bobby? Steal the crown jewels?”
“Since I was eighteen I’ve been running a sort of...escort service with my friends,” Lia said. “Well, not sort of. I’ve definitely been running an illegal escort agency with my friends. I handle all the arrangements. They’re the, you know, the service providers. A few of your friends are clients.”
“My friends? Who?”
Lia saw the fire in his eyes. No time to be discreet when her father was ten seconds away from either a murder or a coronary.
“Um... Xavier Lloyd. Jack Raymond. Derek Jones. Lord Pomeroy. Should I go on?” Her father’s attorney. A billionaire investor. An art gallery owner. An old friend of her father’s from Eton.
“I think that’s more than enough,” her father said.
“David found out and he told me I had to give him a million pounds to make up for the commissions he had to cancel because of me, or else he’d expose me,” Lia said. “But when I was ready to pay him, he said he didn’t want the money. He just wanted to tell the world.”
It was shockingly easy to tell her parents the truth. It all just came out in a big whoosh of words.
“You got those commissions because of me,” her father said to David, then shook him a little again. “This is how you thank me? Hurting my wife? Hurting my child?”
“Lia,” her mother said. “Go to your room and wait for us. We’re going to have a little talk with David.”
“There’s no point,” David said. “You know you aren’t going to kill me. And trust me, even if you do—which you won’t—I have friends who will make sure the truth still gets out about her. I’m not an idiot. I’ve got my ass covered.”
“We’ll see about that,” her father said. “Lia, you heard your mother. Go.”
“Please don’t hurt him, Daddy,” Lia said. “Not for his sake, but for yours and mine.”
“Do as you’re told,” her father said.
Lia did as she was told.
She would have stayed and listened at the door, but she didn’t have the heart for it. Once she’d said it all, the fury went out of her and she was left with nothing but the terrible need to tell August what had happened.
She got to her bedroom and dug her phone out of her bag. Maybe...just maybe, if she got to August in time, she could tell him she didn’t need his mother’s help anymore. She’d already told her parents. They knew everything. They were with David right now, and her father was either going to beat some sense into David or bribe him into silence. Lia would believe either of Daddy in the mood he was in. But whatever happened, at least now there was the tiniest chance she could keep August from having to get married and give up his freedom to some girl—or fawn or cloud—he’d never met.
She called his number and put the phone to her ear.
Immediately she heard a strange tone followed by, “This number is no longer in service.”
Lia held out her hand and stared at the phone.
She was too late.
He’d told her his parents were powerful. They must be some of the richest, most powerful people in the world if they could shut down August’s life that quickly. He was probably on an airplane at that very moment, heading toward Greece or Cyprus or a yacht on the Mediterranean. The
re were probably already movers in his house, packing up his things so that by tomorrow morning the existence of “August Bowman, sacred prostitute of Eros” would be completely erased.
Lia dropped her phone and rested her head on the fireplace mantel.
She’d ruined August’s life and hurt her parents, and all for nothing. For nothing at all.
Lia raised her head and the first thing she saw was her statue of Aphrodite, sitting so pretty and placid on her mantel.
She grabbed the statue and threw it into the fireplace grate where it shattered into four pieces.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Lia spun around.
A woman sat in her grandmother’s armchair, a woman in pink with a stole wrapped around her arms. She had a perfume bottle in her hands and was spritzing herself.
Lia knew that perfume, that scent. Hermès.
And she knew that woman, too.
“You’re August’s mother. How did you get into my room?”
“Oh,” the woman said as she rose to her feet and then...began to float two feet above the floor. A crown of roses sprouted on her regal head. “I have my ways.”
“Oh my God,” Lia breathed.
“Oh your goddess, you mean. Aphrodite. Very pleased to formally make your acquaintance, my dear.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lia didn’t faint, though she wished she could.
The woman, Aphrodite, came back down to her feet with a smile.
“Do you want to check me for wires?” she asked.
Her voice tinkled like wind chimes in a spring breeze.
“No,” Lia said. “That’s fine.” She was backing away, backing...backing...until she could back away no farther. Her back was to the door.
“You’re having a bad day. I’m sorry, darling,” the woman said.
“You...you said you’re Aphrodite.”
“Yes.” She smiled bright as the evening star.
“And you’re...August’s mother.”
“Obviously.”
“So August is...”
“You know exactly who he is.” She snorted a very ungoddess-like laugh. “August Bowman. The august bowman? The exalted archer?”
And Lia did. At once. It all made sense, though none of it made sense.
“Eros.”
Aphrodite nodded. “Well, he hasn’t been Eros for about, oh, thirteen years? That’s when he had a massive strop and quit. Retired his wings and his arrows, gave up the immortal life on Olympus and came here to play human for a bit.”
“He told me you all kicked him out of the family because he wouldn’t submit to getting married.”
“He wouldn’t submit to tea and cake,” Aphrodite said. “All right, so the truth is, he gave me one sleepless night too many. He was always shooting people with his arrows—making kings fall in love with commoners, handsome vain men fall in love with poor plain girls. He shot Zeus with an arrow and made him fall in love with a cloud. A cloud! I still don’t know what ever became of that poor cloud. Probably traumatized for life.”
“I’m sure it found love again,” Lia said.
“His father and I finally had enough after Eros did the cruelest thing ever.”
“What was that?”
“He made us fall in love with each other.”
“That’s bad?”
“You haven’t met my son’s father. I don’t recommend it.”
Ares. Mars, to the Romans. God of war.
No, Lia didn’t have any desire to meet August’s father.
“We had to teach our son to behave. Mortal parents take away the television and video games. We stripped him of his immortality and his powers. We thought after a day or two, a week or two at most, he’d repent and come to heel. But no...turns out he liked being a mortal. Took to it like a fish to water. When he was Eros, he looked about twenty years old, if that. Now he looks, I don’t know, eighty?”
“He looks thirty,” Lia said. “Thirty-three tops.”
The goddess shuddered. “He’s always been a difficult child. Prince of Mischief, we call him. He’s his father’s son. More war than love. Not happy unless he’s causing trouble and making everyone miserable. Ungrateful child, after all we’ve done for him.”
“He was very kind to me,” Lia said. “And I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions about him to yourself.”
She couldn’t quite believe she’d said that to a goddess.
The goddess didn’t seem to mind. She grinned broadly.
“Such a nice girl,” she said.
“I’m the madam of an escort service.”
“I’d hardly hold that against you, dear. I had a whole cult of temple prostitutes in Corinth in service to me. Ah...the good old days.” She patted Lia’s cheek.
Lia recoiled.
“No, don’t touch me. You’re making August get married to someone he doesn’t want to marry. You have to let him out of it. I’ve already told my parents everything, anyway. I don’t need your help.”
“Do you like my perfume?”
“What?” Lia asked, shaking her head in supreme confusion. She had conversational whiplash from the sudden change of subject.
“My perfume? Do you like it?”
“It smells very nice. Hermès. My mother wears the same sort.”
“I thought it was very kind of you to give it to me,” Aphrodite said.
“Give it to you?” Lia asked. “When did I... Rita. With the catering company. That was you? No...”
“Yes,” she said, and curtsied in honor of her own acting prowess. “Just a disguise. My own son didn’t even recognize me. You read your myths. I know you know how it works. If you do a kindness to a god or goddess in disguise as a lowly mortal in need, the god or goddess will reward you. I was about to get sacked for stealing from you and you defended me against your housekeeper’s accusations and even gave me the perfume. Because you showed hospitality to a visitor in your home that even Zeus would applaud, I will honor you by granting you a boon. I can either release my son from his promise to come home and get married and give up all this mortal mischief he’s been doing the past thirteen years. Or... I can pop downstairs and take care of your little mess you’ve made. I’ll blow in David’s ear and make him forget all about you, blow in your mother’s and father’s ears and make them forget everything that happened tonight. I can even paint over the mural on your parents’ bedroom ceiling, and it will be as if David never stepped one foot into this house or your life. What shall it be?”
Lia didn’t even have to think about that for one second.
“Let August go,” she said. “I mean, Eros.”
“You want him for yourself?”
“Of course I want him for himself. But even if I never see him again, I don’t want him forced to be someone and something he doesn’t want to be—especially because of me.”
“You’re certain? All Hades is about to break loose downstairs. Your David is threatening to call the police on your father. Perhaps he already has. Is that a siren I hear?”
Lia heard the siren, too. Her stomach sank. But she had no choice.
“August said the gods envy mortals because our actions have consequences. Even when the consequences are bad,” she said, “they’re still good because they give weight and meaning to our lives and choices. I don’t believe I did anything wrong—everything that happened was consensual, nobody got exploited, everybody had fun. But I know what I did was illegal. I’ll take the consequences, no matter how ugly it gets. And...what happened this week with August and me, I want that to mean something, too. I don’t want to magically make it go away, not even the pain. Even the pain of losing him reminds me I had him for a while... As for the mural, yes, David’s a wanker but the painting is magnificent. And it’s August and me, I suppose. Leave that alone, too.” L
ia squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry to rush you off, but if it’s as bad as you say, I better get downstairs and stop Daddy from committing murder.”
“Your father does love you more than life itself,” Aphrodite said. “I saw that the moment you were born, and he called on my name to breathe life back into you. You’ve been like my own goddaughter. You make me very proud.”
“Thank you,” Lia said. “I think.”
“Before I go...” The goddess bent to pick up the broken statue of herself. Except it wasn’t broken anymore when she placed it back on the mantel. “Your great-grandfather loved this little statue of me. And I loved your great-grandfather. He would have been very proud of you, too. Defying convention, thumbing your nose at all the stupid rules imposed on women that never get imposed on men, living the bawdy life of a...what did you call it? A congenial pervert? My kind of girl. I like you so much better than Psyche—pretty girl but no backbone. You, child, have backbone.” Aphrodite placed her hands on Lia’s shoulders, and this time Lia didn’t brush her off. She couldn’t, not with the way Aphrodite was looking at her, her great dark eyes full of love.
Aphrodite bent and kissed Lia on the forehead.
“All I ever wanted,” the goddess said, “was for someone to love my son as much as I do. You’ve made me a very happy lady.”
And with those strange final words, Aphrodite was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Stunned by what had just happened, the dazzling strangeness of it all, Lia could only stand there in her room basking in utter astonishment. She felt like she’d been staring straight at the sun for an hour and it was going to take a long time before her vision cleared. She leaned back against the door, pressed her hand into her stomach and breathed and breathed.
She nearly jumped two feet into the air when someone knocked on her bedroom door. She turned and threw the door open. Her mother stood across the threshold.
“Mummy,” Lia said. “It’s you.” She slapped a hand over her heart in relief.
“The craziest thing just happened,” her mother said.
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