Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(35)

"I'm not young anymore," she said. "And there's no way I can fall in love in a weekend."

Vernelle laughed. "Keep telling yourself that, Pammy."

Pamela frowned. "I'm going now. I have a lot to do before tonight."

"Such as..."

"Such as I have to sketch that awful fountain so I can have something to send to the Fountain Boys." The Fountain Boys were what Pamela and V called the brothers who owned a huge fountain wholesale business that Ruby Slipper had used several times to fill orders for all types of water features. "I am here to do a job, remember?"

"I thought Faust said you were to loll about soaking up the ambience of The Forum this weekend."

"That doesn't mean that I can completely ignore work. Which reminds me, are you meeting with Mrs. Graham today?"

"Yes, of course. The crazy cat lady and I have a date this afternoon. We're going to discuss the color of her shutters. Pray for me."

Pamela laughed. "I'll see if I can find a candle to light."

"Okay, enough about unfinished jobs. You're supposed to be lolling, not working."

"Well, I've definitely soaked up enough tacky pretend Roman ambience. The sooner I get going on this job, the sooner I can be done with it."

"Fantasy and fun, remember?" V said.

"Vernelle, tonight I'm going out with a gorgeous stranger named Phoebus. Isn't that enough fun fantasy for you?"

"Mix a little of that cheeky attitude in with this job without losing your sense of humor, and I think you'll have the perfect recipe for succeeding with E. D. Faust, as well as Phoebus. Have fun with both of them, Pammy."

Fun... her personal life had definitely stopped being fun. She was comfortable and secure, but fun... happy... joyous? No. Had her job stopped being fun, too? She liked what she did; it satisfied her. But when was the last time she had felt a sense of wonder or a rush of joy at the completion of a job? She couldn't remember... The thought brought her up short.

"Pammy? You still there?" V asked.

"Yeah, just thinking."

"How about this - you give the fountain an hour of your time, after you give the concierge a call and arrange for your show tickets," V said.

"Okay, okay. You're right," Pamela said.

"And tomorrow I want a full report."

"You'll get it."

"Good. Bye-bye, birdie," V quipped before hanging up.

Pamela rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She just hoped she'd have something worth reporting tomorrow. Then, before she changed her mind, she dialed nine for the concierge.

An efficient-sounding woman answered on the second ring. "Yes, Miss Gray. How may I help you?"

"I would like to see a show tonight." She paused, drawing a deep breath. "An erotic show. But nothing too nasty," she finished in a rush.

"Of course not, ma'am. I highly recommend a show that's currently playing at New York-New York. It's by the same company that produces Cirque du Soleil. Have you heard of them?"

"Yes, I've been to a Cirque du Soleil show when they came through Denver."

"Excellent. This production is called Zumanity. It is erotic but tasteful. I've seen it myself and enjoyed it very much. Actually, it's been selling out lately, but the hotel does have access to a few hard-to-find tickets."

"That sounds perfect," Pamela said, relieved that everything was falling into place so easily.

"And how many tickets will you require?" Pamela's grin telegraphed through the phone lines. "Two, please."

Chapter 12

Pamela shifted her weight and curled her feet under her, completely engrossed in sketching the fountain. Well, her version of the fountain. She kept its cloverleaf shape, but she shrank it and ignored the hideous statues of Artemis, Apollo, and Caesar, replacing them with pretty swirls meant to look like waves from the middle of which fish spouted water. She glanced up at the bulbous center statue and sighed. No matter how she "fixed" the rest of the gihugic thing, there was no way she could make Bacchus acceptable - especially if Eddie kept insisting that the thing be animated. Her fingers, which had been flying over the page of her sketchbook, slowed. She drew in the center pedestal, but left blank the area on top of it where Bacchus sat. Surely she could talk Eddie into something less... she frowned at the statue... less fat and hideous.

She checked her watch - three-thirty. Four and a half more hours until her date. She should get her camera and take pictures of the columns, as well as make notes about colors and textures. All this preliminary work would be needed Monday when she finally met with Eddie at his home. But instead of thinking about work, her mind wandered to thoughts of pleasure. The gilding of the overly ornate columns reminded her of the brightness of Phoebus' hair. Now that her concentration was no longer required to sketch the fountain, Pamela's mind circled back to him. The pretend sky from which fluffy clouds billowed reminded her of his eyes. Hell, even the tacky statue of Apollo was somehow beginning to look like him.

It was like he was one of those glowing bug lights, and she was a love-struck mosquito. She was obsessed. Pamela knew it, and was more than a little chagrined to realize that she really didn't care. On the contrary, she felt like she did when she was reading an exceptionally good book - like she was walking around in someone else's world and enjoying every second of it.