Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(21)

He pulled his eyes from her mouth and refocused quickly on what she was saying.

"A god, huh? Well, you certainly look the part. I mean, besides the outfit, you are definitely ginormous enough to be a god. I say well done you!"

Ginormous? At least she appeared to be using the word in a flattering sense, whatever it meant. He brushed her odd compliment aside, not wanting to pursue the direction their conversation had taken. The waiter reappeared and filled his glass. When he left, Apollo raised it to her.

"I drink to you, Pamela, and to coincidence and fate."

"Would that mean that you believe in coincidence or fate?"

"I think I'm beginning to believe in both," he said.

Chapter 7

"So tell me how it is that you have become the most beautiful architect I have ever cast my eyes upon," Apollo said.

Pamela made a little hiccupping laugh. "You shouldn't have already described my competition as a bunch of old men if you wanted me to be complimented by that. Actually, I'm not an architect, but understanding architecture is an important part of my job. I'm an interior designer."

"An interior designer." Apollo repeated the strange title, searching for its meaning. What was it she designed the interiors of? He had no idea. And then Apollo, God of Light, master of music, healing, truth, and lover of innumerable mortals as well as goddesses, found himself doing something for the first time in his existence. He struggled to think of something to say to keep himself from sounding like an ignorant fool.

He blurted the first question that came into his mind. "Architecture is important to an interior designer?"

"Of course." The tiny frown lines were back between her brows. "It only makes sense that in order to properly decorate a space the designer must first understand the building's architecture. I mean, please. Me not understanding the structure of a building would be like a chef not understanding in what order to mix the ingredients to make a souffle. Besides that, there are lots of times that I work directly with builders and am involved in the design of a project from the time the foundation of the home is laid all the way through to when my clients move in and host their fabulously successful housewarming party."

Apollo's mind swiftly sifted through the strange wording of her answer, focusing on familiar ideas. It seemed Pamela's job involved decorating mortals' homes. Perhaps she was like Zeus' sister, Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth. Ancient mortals invoked Hestia's aid when erecting a new home and in many villages women tended ever-burning flames dedicated to her as a symbol of their desire for safety and harmony within their households.

"You make home a pleasant place in which to live," he said thoughtfully. "That must be a rewarding job."

Pamela grinned. "Well, I try. I especially enjoy owning my business. I like to call the shots." Her smile faltered as her expression grew more serious. "I've decided that it's better to be in control of my life than to constantly try to live up to someone else's expectations."

Apollo nodded thoughtfully, thinking of how lately he had begun to feel stifled by the role he had played for eons. It seemed he was eternally viewed as the great God of Light, and never seen as himself. He met Pamela's eyes and surprised himself by speaking his thoughts aloud.

"I envy your independence. I know what it is to be restricted and controlled by what others expect of you."

"It's suffocating," Pamela said softly.

"Exactly," Apollo said.

They studied one another as they sipped their wine, pleasantly surprised at finding common ground so easily.

Pamela's smile returned. "Well, even though I own my business, some jobs allow me more independence than others. For instance, the job that brought me to Vegas is feeling like one of the others."

"You do not live here, in The Forum?"

"You mean Las Vegas?" She automatically corrected him. "No way. This is my first time in Vegas. I'm from Colorado." Her wry look took in the fountain and the area surrounding it. She shook her head. "Manitou Springs is about as different from Las Vegas as you can get. How about you? I don't recognize your accent, but it's obviously not from around here."

Wishing he'd given himself more time to fabricate answers to simple questions like who he was and where he was from, he took another drink of wine while his mind searched around for a response Pamela would find reasonable.

"I can not really say I am from only one place. I consider both Italy and Greece my home."

At least that accounted for his unusual name and the accent, she thought.

"It seems we have more than our love of independence in common. I am new to Las Vegas, too," he said. It was a stretch of the literal truth, but not by much. His two previous visits had been brief and confined to Caesars Palace. He had basically followed his sister's lead and tried to appear as if he was enjoying himself.

"So you don't usually pretend to be a god?"

Apollo's smile was slow and enigmatic. "I can assure you that I have never pretended to be a god."

"Really? Then how did all of this" - she gestured at his costume - "happen?"

Apollo's smile widened as he decided to tell the truth. "I blame it entirely on my sister. I believe she thought I had become too serious, so as a favor to her I came to Las Vegas. Hence, what you see before you."