Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(16)

"Please bring me the olive and cheese appetizer tray and a bottle of..." She studied the Italian reds listed under Chianti Classico with three glass ratings, and her eyes lit up as she recognized the '97 Castello di Fonterutoli Riserva. She'd stumbled on a fantastic Italian wine article in the last issue of Wine Spectator's Magazine, and she was sure that she remembered the name. "A bottle of the '97 Castello di Fonterutoli Riserva Chianti Classico."

"Excellent choice, ma'am. From Tuscany. The wine maker boasts that in ancient times the gods themselves strode through their vineyards."

"That figures," she muttered under her breath after he'd turned to go. "I'm trapped in a trailer park version of ancient Rome, and now I'm going to go from tipsy to thoroughly toasty on wine from a deluded wine maker."

Pamela sighed again. She'd had such good intentions at the beginning of the evening. After V's pep talk she'd taken a long shower and towel dried her short hair into a mussed, sexy tousle. Dressing for success, she'd chosen to wear the little black dress she'd practically stolen at the Denver Saks end of season sale. She loved the way it ended in a soft, feminine ruffle a few inches above her knees. And then she'd completed the ensemble with delicate onyx chandelier earrings and a glittery purse that was as ridiculously small as it had been expensive. She'd finished with the piece de resistance - a to-die-for pair of Jimmy Choo black silk slides with mod butterflies and hearts embroidered on them in bright, retro colors.

She'd checked her reflection in the gilded floor-to-ceiling mirror before she'd left her suite. She looked good. Very good. The black dress hugged her petite body, and the slides leant her five-foot-one-inch frame three and a half much-needed inches, making her calves look long and lean.

Yes, she had been ready to flirt.

Until she'd paused at the entrance to the casino to ask a nice-looking man in the casino's distinctive Romanesque uniform where she paid the cover charge. He'd laughed so hard that he'd snotted on himself.

"Lady, you're missing the point," he'd said between chortles. "Casinos want people to come in. The more people, the more money they spend."

He'd walked away laughing and shaking his head. Her evening hadn't gotten any better. Her dinner had been fine, but the scenery had continued to weigh on her. She'd told V that she was going to change the way she looked at this job - to shift from tasteful to fanciful. But the more she saw of The Forum, the more desperate she felt. It was just all so incredibly tasteless, inelegant, cheap and gaudy.

No, she corrected herself, scratch the cheap. Her eyes drifted back to the enormous fountain that held the grotesquely animated images of Bacchus, Caesar, Apollo and Artemis. That had definitely cost serious money, as would the ridiculous reproduction Eddie wanted in his home.

The waiter reappeared with her olive tray and a crystal carafe of wine the color of blood. She inhaled the rich Chianti aroma, which automatically brought to mind Marilyn's Pizza House, her favorite pizza place in the world, which was conveniently located just down the street from her design studio. Marilyn's always had a great selection of Italian reds, as well large-screen TVs that endlessly played Marilyn Monroe movies. This Chianti was definitely worthy of Marilyn. She savored the soft, lingering taste of the excellent wine with slow sips and chose a dark kalamata olive. She took a bite of thickly sliced buffalo mozzarella. It was all delicious.

Life in The Forum, she decided with a full mouth, did have some positives. The food was excellent and the selection of wines, superb, even at a small cafe such as this one. And, she begrudgingly admitted to herself as the Chianti spread its red magic through her body, although the exteriors of the shops were gaudy and their design horrid, the interiors were couture heaven.

Sure, her foray into flirting hadn't gone so well. But that really hadn't been her fault. The only prospect she'd had so far had been wearing a gold chain. He couldn't count. It's true that she'd been scared away from the casino by the cover charge debacle, so her gambling had been, thus far, nonexistent. But the weekend was just beginning, and she shouldn't think of it as a complete loss, at least not yet. Maybe she would just turn it into a shop-a-thon. Or at the very least a shoe-a-thon.

The thought of buying more shoes temporarily brightened her mood, until she imagined what V would say about her being stuck in a rut and falling back on old habits instead of embracing new experiences. Pamela chewed an olive as the waiter paused at her table to refresh her glass of wine. V might be right. Maybe she wasn't trying hard enough.

Resolutely Pamela closed the magazine and refocused on her surroundings. The crowd around the fountain had definitely thickened. A young woman who had impossibly beautiful blond hair caught her attention. She was talking to another girl whose hair was equally lovely, flowing in a thick, silver-colored wave down to her waist. Both girls were wearing costumes that Pamela supposed were meant to look as if they had stepped from the streets of ancient Rome. Sheer, cloud-colored fabric floated in seductive drapes around their lithe young bodies. One instant they appeared to be fully covered and modestly clad, then one of them would laugh and turn gracefully - almost as if she was a dancer - and a cunningly concealed fold in her robe would open to expose a glimpse of creamy skin. Also it seemed that the girls were covered in some kind of golden glitter, because as they moved through the tourists and towards the fountain, they left a sparkling trail in their wake. Pamela pulled her eyes from the duo and looked at the rest of the crowd. None of the men seemed to be able to keep their eyes from the seductively costumed women.