Page 21
And speaking of…
“Sister, I came to show you what Erato did—”
Hera sighed. The tip of Hermes’s pencil broke. Zeus coughed awkwardly, face still uncomprehending. Demeter stopped, took another step, then reached into the folds of Hera’s skirt to fish a disheveled Erato from them.
“I see Erato chose to show you herself.” Demeter dropped her fiancée on the floor and glared. Zeus backed away. Hermes’s hand was surely cramping by now. As if to prove her right, the Messenger flexed his fingers and started typing, after pocketing the broken pencil.
Hera sighed again.
What was happening to her life lately? Was this how people felt before the very end?
She stood up and rearranged her dress, slowly ensuring her cleavage was covered. She could have sworn Zeus’s breath had caught. Which was strange, he hadn’t cared about her cleavage or any part of her in years. Centuries, to be perfectly honest.
“I have been asking everyone the same question for days now,” Hera said as she finally turned to face the room. “And I am tired of opening my mouth and nobody providing any satisfying answers. So, would you appease me this one time, since you never did, Zeus?”
“Ah, well, I’m in town for the Board meeting. Came to see if you would be attending this time around? Might be some voting, I gather, so might need you to either give me the proxy or attend yourself…” He trailed off, still stealing looks at her chest.
She looked at Hermes.
“Messenger?”
He finally put away his phone.
“I’m with Zeus. I heard there will be some sort of ruckus at the meetings, so here I am. I was not aware that the ruckus would begin prior to meetings, but I am not mad about that.” He gave her a toothy grin, and she wanted to strangle him.
Out of all of Zeus’s children, he was the one she minded the least, even though he was perhaps the one Zeus rubbed in her face the most, since he had given Hermes one of the most important and visible jobs on Olympus. Hera was faced with him at all times. Another one of Zeus’ infidelities. Another one of her failures.
“Demeter? How about you? Come to collect your wayward, future wife? I am returning her untouched, believe me.”
Demeter laughed, and Hera heard Erato exhale loudly. They really were sort of adorable. In that gross saccharine way that made one’s teeth hurt.
“Oh, I know she is untouched. It was hilarious to watch all of you scramble just now. Well, not you, sister, since you seem particularly unaffected by having a beautiful woman in your coochie. Or is it that this one is the wrong woman? Or, shall I be more precise, this one is not a certain goddess?”
Hera narrowed her eyes, but otherwise did not move a muscle. She did not appreciate what her sister was implying. Zeus apparently held similar feelings.
“What do you mean, Demeter? Nobody puts their face in Hera’s coo… Nobody. You hear me? She might be old and past her prime. But she’s a mother. Respect demands to be given here. To her age, as I said, at the very least. Muse, explain yourself.”
Erato opened her mouth. Demeter pulled her up by the collar of her leather jacket and brushed past Zeus.
“Stuff it up your pipe and smoke it, old man. Of all the gods, that you should be the one speaking of respect is rich. And speaking of rich, aren’t you late for your very important, very secret Board meetings that are so important you don’t even remember what they are about, and so secret even I know they are taking place?”
Demeter disappeared with Erato in tow, the muse attempting an explanation even as she was dragged away.
Hera looked at the remaining gods and felt her shoulders tense. Technically, she didn’t have to go. Technically, she was only nominally on this damn board as a minor shareholder. Technically… Nemesis’s words about being on the Board made her reach for her purse. Zeus followed her, blessedly silent. Hermes snickered all the way to the limo.
7
WHERE THE SECOND BULLET POINT OF THE PLAN IS ACCOMPLISHED (AND THE EMPRESS FINDS IT EVEN HOTTER…)
The Board meetings were a chore Hera attended rarely. Her vote never counted for much; the percentage of shares she held was small, nominal.
Zeus had given them to her as a “goodwill gesture,” that of a magnanimous, generous ex-husband bestowing a gift on an unwanted wife and deeming her harmless enough to entrust a piece of his business to her.
Hera had felt insulted. Hera had felt slapped by the present. But Hera had accepted. Back then, she thought it was because she wanted to have at least something of him still. How absolutely stupid of her. How wretched, how pathetic.
Now she skipped the meetings and donated all the profits she received to women’s shelters. The artist that Hera sometimes bought bespoke pieces of clothing from, DeVor, had a really comprehensive program for women’s protection in New York. So Hera signed the checks to go there automatically. She did not miss the money. She did not miss the bustle of corporate life either.
Sitting now in the boardroom, watching Zeus posture to the directors and major executives, she wanted to yawn. And get a drink. Something much stronger than the fancy designer water in her tall glass.
