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"The moment I got back from your office."
"I'd have thought you'd know by now not to judge gods by what they are," I responded.
"My boss is a fertility god, and his boss is a love goddess who runs a dating agency," he pointed out.
"Hmm. Fair." I dug my fork into my moussaka and lifted it to my lips, blowing across the top of it. "And what about me? Am I what you expected?" I didn't know what made me ask the question, but it slipped out almost unbidden. I ate my food, trying not to think too much about what I wanted his answer to be.
His gaze trailed over me, making my heart race in a way it hadn't for longer than I could recall.
"In that you're perfect, yes."
I let out a surprisingly loud laugh and covered my mouth with my hand. "Sorry."
"What for?"
I shrugged. "I guess that wasn't the perfect response."
"Is that what you're going for?"
"It's what people expect of me." I ate some more of my food, appreciating the easy way out of the conversation.
"You're right, by the way," Damien said after a few minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence.
"About what?"
"The food. It's great. And luckily for you, I do have taste buds."
I cracked a smile. "I'm glad to hear it. But I suspected as much as soon as you asked for something that wasn't gyros."
"You don't like it?"
"Oh, I love gyros," I responded. "It's my favourite after-event meal. There's something really satisfying about leaving an event in a gorgeous dress and with my hair done up and just eating street food."
"That does sound fun," he admitted.
I frowned. "I've never admitted that to anyone before."
"Not even a...I'm not even sure what the right word is."
"For what?"
"What your partner would be. Is boyfriend the right word for the romantic partner of a goddess?"
"If that's what they wanted to be called. Girlfriend, partner, other half, they all work for me." I shrugged. "It's not been an issue in a while. But to answer the actual question, no. I've never told any of them."
"Well if you ever want..." he trailed off and cleared his throat.
But I knew what he was going to offer, and there was a part of me that wanted to take him up on the unspoken offer for Greek food later.
I finished my moussaka and set down the empty tub. I waited for Damien to finish his food, though only so I could move on to dessert. I sipped on my coffee, enjoying the strong taste, it'd certainly be enough to get me through the next few hours of prep.
"All right, now for the best bit," I said once he'd finished the last of his salad. I popped the lid off the two boxes and looked down at the desserts. "I don't think we thought this through, they only sent forks." I picked up one of the remaining clean ones and handed it to him.
"Hang on." He dug his fork into the soft syrup-covered cake of the orange pie, causing my mouth to water even at the thought of how good it was going to taste. The baklava was a whole other challenge.
Damien put half of the orange pie on the lid, and handed me the box.
"Thanks." I took it from him, my fingers brushing against his as I did and making my breathing hitch.
