Sirenz (13 page)

“Nice ring,” she drawled. The little dog whimpered and she gently tapped it on its nose.

“A gift,” I said, shoving the box deep into my purse. Blondie's order came up and she left. It was our turn.

I read the list to the man in the grubby apron behind the counter, and told Meg, “Wait here for the food while I go get the drinks.” I pushed the list into her hands and made my way through the line, which had grown to the back of the shop again, to the fridge case and started pulling out bottles.

Even through all the background noise, I heard the deli man. “You want these sandwiches toasted?”

Before I could run back and respond, Meg answered him.

“No, don't toast them, but cut them into quarters and—” The words had hardly left her lips when she jumped and rubbed her rear. I grabbed the drinks and hurried forward.

“Anything for you, Miss!” The guy behind the counter gave her a toothy grin. Then he took the sandwiches from the line worker standing next to him and started cutting them up himself.

“Can I get you anything else?” he fawned.

“
Ase me isihi
,” said Meg under her breath, and slipped out. Once our order was ready, I quickly signed the credit receipt and met her on the street.

“I'm going to be a walking feather mattress,” Meg said, stomping back to the office.

“I think I need another Claritin.” My nose was running and my eyes were starting to water. It was very hard trying to wipe my eyes underneath the sunglasses. Meg's proliferating plumage made me doubly cautious about looking at people. I'd definitely gotten the easier gift to deal with, but it was getting harder to be around her.

As soon as we got back to the office, Reynaldo was waiting, impatiently tapping his foot.

“There's a priority client in the Yellow Salon. Go offer her something.” He took his salad and brownie. “I'll be in to assist her in a moment. I simply have to get some food before I pass out! Maybe I'm hypoglycemic! Oh!”

“Go wolf down that lump of chocolate,” muttered Meg when he was out of earshot.

I shook my head. “He's such a drama queen. C'mon. We'll drop the lunch order in the kitchen, find out what the client wants, and hit a coffee shop if we have to. Neither of us can make coffee that's drinkable.”

The Yellow Salon was empty.

Meg's head swiveled around. “There's no one here. Maybe they've already taken care of whoever it was?”

“Good. One less thing we have to do. Let's go.”

“I'm not done with
you
.” The voice slid like cold steel along my spine. Out from a dressing room came Blondie from the deli. And her little dog, too.

“What?!” I asked.

Her jaw clenched and her eyes hardened. “So, do you frequently seduce happily married men? Flirt and take advantage of their weakness? Wheedle gifts and who knows what else from them?”

“I don't chase after any married men!” I responded indignantly. “I'm only seventeen! I don't even have a boyfriend!”

Meg leaned closer. “Shar,
married
man,
gifts out of thin air.
Think!”

It was like a slap to the head.

Hades. And now
the happy little wife. What was her name …

“Persephone! It's a regular family reunion,” quipped Meg in my ear. “At least she's being forthright.”

“Oh jeez,” I gulped.

Persephone gave us a glacial look, then lounged seductively on a striped yellow satin chaise. “Why is
my
husband, Lord of the Underworld, brother to Zeus, giving
you
, a stinking, lowly mortal, gifts?”

“Uh …”
Sorry, Sharisse can't talk now, she's brain dead.

Meg jumped. “Shar never asked for anything from him. She wants nothing to do with Had—your husband.”

Well, it was mostly true, but I still couldn't speak. Thank God Meg defended me while I continued to stand there, drooling on the yellow and sage-green carpet.

Persephone was unimpressed. She sprang off the chaise and waved an identical Tiffany's ring in front of me.

Hades, you idiot!
Giving two women the same ring!
We both should slap him.

“Liar!” she screamed at Meg, then turned to me. “You're using your wiles and cheap charm on him. Why would he want
you
when he has
me,
immortal goddess and Daughter of Demeter? Who put you up to this? What god? I command you to tell me what your interest is in my Hades.”

Those intense green eyes, so like her mother's, bored into me. I could hear myself sweat. Slowly, she stroked her dog, which whimpered when she paused for too long.

“It's a working relationship only. Nothing personal. On my part. And I avoid gods whenever I can. At all costs! I swear!” I held up the scout's honor sign. She didn't have to know I was never a Girl Scout.

“It had best
stay
that way. Any step over that line and you will regret it for the next, oh,
eternity
. Am I clear?” Persephone's voice was shrill.

“Yes ma'am!”

“Margaret, get me champagne, chilled, with a strawberry, and a plate of fresh fruit. Have your friend get me spring water for my pet while we wait for Reynaldo. Go!”

We scuttled out of the room in different directions. I knew I had to get Persephone what she wanted quickly, but I also had to have a moment alone to stop shaking. Just a minute, and then I'd be able to function. I couldn't go to the kitchen, the water cooler, or the ladies' room; my only option was the supply closet. Fine. If that's what it took for a few seconds of peace and safety, then that's where I was headed.

For a closet, it was pretty big. There was actually room enough that I wouldn't feel claustrophobic. Plopping down on a carton of TP, I leaned back and inhaled deeply.

“Hiding,
ma Sharisse
?”

I jumped. If I couldn't find peace in a supply closet, then the world was doomed. I ran for the door, but it wouldn't open.

“No need to run away,” said Hades smoothly. “I won't harm you.”

I had to face him. There he stood, in his True Religion jeans like they were made for every curve of muscle, and a black silk shirt that set off his olive-toned god looks. It wasn't the least bit tempting. Okay, a little, until I heard the yip of Persephone's dog and my spit dried up.

“Hello, Hades. Nobody left to torture in Tartarus?”

He held a hand to his chest. “You wound me, Sharisse. I don't torture anyone because then they can't serve me. And I would
never
do that to you. I can think of much more pleasant things we can do together.”

“I'm sure you can. Do you have Persephone's permission to play with mortals?” Daddy told me the best defense was a great offense.
Charge!

His eyes grew cold.

“Just in case you didn't know, Mr. Omnipotence, she's in the next room. And she thinks I'm chasing you. When she saw I had the exact same ring you gave her, she had a
fit!
Bad timing, bad choice, and bad idea! She scares me, Hades. Let me go.” I jammed my fists on my hips.

He smoothed his countenance and spread out his hands. “Sharisse, calm down. Persephone and I have an open relationship. When she leaves me every spring, I'm so lonely down in Tartarus. She understands I don't like to be alone.” He made a little pout, which on a different person I'd want to taste.

“I'm sure you can find someone who doesn't mind sharing you with the missus,” I retorted. “You haven't gone through the whole pantheon yet, have you? You could have one playmate here and another down there. As long as you're cheating on her, don't stop at one. But don't think to include me.”

Hades stepped closer. “Now you're just being nasty. You're safe here with me. Here and in Tartarus, Persephone and I are free to come and go as we please, but under the terms of the agreement Zeus worked out, Persephone and I cannot meet each other on the mortal plane. I can't go into the next room and placate her, but neither can she burst in here to confront me about you.” He licked his lips, so slowly. “If you would simply consent to give me one night, I would give you anything you desire. I'll get you a different ring. A
bigger
one. A pink one.”

We stared at each other for a moment.

He continued. “I can guarantee that no harm would befall you. Would that soften your heart, my sweet Sharisse? Or perhaps …” Suddenly Hades was dressed in blue-pinstriped superfine wool trousers, a white cashmere sweater, and Gucci loafers. A cream cashmere coat was draped casually over his shoulder. An errant lock of hair slipped down across his forehead. With a deft twist of his head, he flicked it back.

When I pulled my eyes away from his elegant attire, I noticed we stood outside a marble building.

“
Buon giorno
,” said a man strolling by.

We were in …
Milan
. In front of Ferragamo's. The mecca for shoe worshippers, of which I was a devout subject. Was Meg psychic? Or had Hades eavesdropped? My palms sweated and my heart pounded. Was this fear, or temptation? I couldn't tell the difference, and I was afraid of both.

“Ooh,” was all I could manage. Hades stepped in front of me and opened the door.

“Shall we?”

I just wanted to look. On my grandmother's grave, I swore I wasn't going to accept anything.

“
Ah, Signor! E Signorina! Come stai? Prego! Prego!
” The man in the shop bowed, gesturing for us to come farther in.

“Giuseppe, my friend, how are you? And that lovely wife? Your children?”

Oh, he was smoother than Swiss chocolate. Asking about the wife and kids! How underhanded! He was just weaving a spell around everyone!

“
Buono, buono
.” They conversed while I slipped away to admire the displays. There was gilt everywhere, and each seat was a cream-colored upholstered cloud. The floors were buffed ivory marble. Even Giuseppe was attired in a costly, custom-made suit. His midnight blue shirt, against his pewter suit and yellow tie, created a picture of noble elegance. Soft music, the enticing aroma of leather, and the personal pampering added to the luxurious decadence. All around me were one-of-a-kind shoes, some with fourteen-karat-gold buckles or buttons. The inventory in this place could probably feed a third-world nation for several days. Now I was starting to sound like Meg. But it was true.

Hades came up behind me. I knew he was there; I could feel him breathing down my neck. I ignored him, but he wouldn't allow it.

“See anything you like?”

“Well, that's a really stupid question. Ask if there's
something I
don't
like.” If I die, I want to go to shoe heaven.

A finger trailed down my arm. Since when was I dressed in a lovely emerald green silk sheath?

“You can have them all. Just say the words.” His breath tickled my ear. I shifted away a bit.

“And those words are?”

“One night.”

Here we go again.

“Will Persephone tap me to relieve her when it's my turn to go into the ring? I don't do tag team sheet wrestling, Hades. Much as I would love to slip my feet into one of these babies, your price tag is too high. But wait, I
can't
slide one on my foot because I have talons!” I gave him my dirtiest look. It didn't faze him, not that I thought it would. Meg's warning notwithstanding, even I knew when I was being led down the garden path.

The mention of his wife's name didn't bother him. Without looking away, Hades snapped his fingers and two sales clerks hurriedly brought over expensive upholstered armchairs. Right behind them was Giuseppe with a footstool. The clerks rushed away, only to return a few moments later with iced champagne and a platter of cheeses and fruits.

We sat. I gave Hades my
this won't work
disinterested look, but I was savoring every second and every detail. I wanted to remember it when I was home, crying over my ugly feet.

“
Signorina
, please.” Giuseppe gently lifted my foot and before I could cry
fowl!
, he removed my shoe.

My foot was normal. My toes even had my favorite color pink polish. I breathed a sigh of relief. Giuseppe measured and chatted in Italian with Hades. I would let them go through the motions, fully aware he was trying to seduce me through my feet. It was a plot worthy of James Bond, but I was onto him.

Giuseppe hurried away and I turned to Hades.

“Doesn't he get upset you're wearing Guccis in his store?”

Hades crossed his long legs as he sipped the last of his champagne, which was instantly refilled by a hovering sales clerk who then moved back a discreet distance.

“It reminds him that I share my friendship and wealth with others. He makes sure I get the best he can give. The fact that I am bringing you here is something he will brag about to his competitors, who then will do anything to curry my favor.”

“What does Persephone like? I mean, I wouldn't want to be caught wearing the same shoes. We've already got the same ring. How gauche.”

His laughter was rich and warm and deep. A number of women cast admiring glances in his direction. The threat from Persephone and warnings from Meg still bolstered my resistance to his charm, although the bribes were killing me.

“Her taste runs more to a less inhibited style.” Hades pointed to a pair of long black leather boots, the kind that go up over the knee, with sharp studs on them. I think hookers wear
them with black pantyhose, micro miniskirts, and bustiers. Or maybe it was tacky pirates.

“Not surprised.”

Giuseppe returned carrying a shoe I would have worked the rest of my life to pay off. A sleek three-inch-heeled pump, in alligator, with black onyx buttoned buck
les. I didn't care that the terrifying, man-eating beasts were endangered—they made beautiful shoes. And bags.
Sigh.
I had to get out of here. I jumped up and ran out the door …