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When there was another knock, she pounced up to go to the door rather than calling out. Some guy in uniform… the same guy? Maybe. She couldn’t tell. Apparently, tiredness blurred her memory… or dulled her observation skills.
The man stepped back and gestured down the hall. “The dining room is this way.”
She half expected a “milady.” The uniform was snazzy, pressed and starched. Perfect. She wouldn’t compliment Zeus, so decided the manners and get up were building management decisions rather than his.
The whole apartment was decorated to within an inch of its life. Too cluttered for her liking; too many failed attempts to flaunt taste. The cold greys and blacks could work. Maybe. But it was all too hard and masculine for her. That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t too masculine. It just… tried too hard. Whoever was responsible had been given a specific remit: power. Make me powerful and intimidating… Again, she looped back to failing at the intended endeavor.
They stopped in a room with a long central table. Only four places were set. The head of the table. Two places at one side. One at the other. Of course, the uniformed guy directed her to the single spot and pulled out a chair for her. The silverware, the linens, everything was perfect. Not a thread out of place.
She scanned the statues and vases and pictures and all other kinds of clutter, getting about halfway before Byron and Hugo appeared.
“Tess,” Byron said. “You look lovely.”
The compliment was hollow; her apparel wasn’t worth commenting on. It couldn’t be that they were uncomfortable, certainly not Byron, he’d dined with kings.
Given his previous role, it stood to reason he’d take the place at the head of the table. Except he didn’t. Byron went to the seat opposite hers and Hugo sat next to him.
Wow. The positioning was so telling. Sure, they were in Zeus’s home, or his temporary lair, whatever it was, but Byron and Hugo bankrolled Zeus’s life. More than just the revelation of Zeus’s attitude to these men, it revealed theirs to him. On the plane, Hugo commented on Zeus’s God complex. Yet, there they were, all of them, putting themselves beneath Zeus.
She’d bet it was his will that brought her to that new table in the foreign country. Byron and Hugo were running his missions for him? It was incredible.
“Did you settle in?” Hugo asked.
“I want to know why we’re here. I want to know when we’re leaving…” Even though her next demand could come across as bratty, she declared it anyway. “I want to talk to my father.”
“Your father is expecting our call.”
That statement didn’t come from either of the men at the table. Turning in the direction of the voice, Tess watched a man glide into the room. Tall, fit, brown hair, he was almost mesmerizing. Not because he was over the top attractive or physically striking. It was something in his aura. Confidence. Intelligence.
Zeus had knowledge far beyond any of theirs. His life had been Olympus since before the three at the table knew it existed.
Though her eyes were still wide, and her awe apparent, she wasn’t going to simper. “Zeus,” she said.
A sly yet satisfied smile spread on his lips. “Pandora.”
“She prefers Tess,” Hugo interjected.
Approaching the table, Zeus waited for the uniform guy to scurry in and pull out his chair before he sat down. “I heard,” he said, shaking his napkin open to lay it across his lap. “She was a precocious infant. It’s pleasing to know she didn’t lose that quality.”
The man knew things about her. Things she didn’t. Her time at Olympus, when she was two, was still a mystery.
“I’m not here to please you, Mr. Sherwood.”
His smile flared again, though he didn’t aim it at her. He raised a hand. The uniformed guy dashed out of the room, a tension about him suggested he was to be quick without being improper.
“You were cunning too,” Zeus said. “I always thought you’d make an exceptional agent.”
“Is that why I’m here? My father has no interest in training me.”
His chin rose, like she’d said something significant. The last thing she wanted to do was provide intelligence. Daire could pick out things as important that meant nothing to her. There was no reason to assume Zeus couldn’t do the same.
“Why do you think you’re here?”
As her shoulders dropped, she sank into her chair. “I am not going to play this game.”
The server came in with three just like him. They went to stand behind each of the diners and put their shallow bowls down in sync. Soup of some kind. Tess was still examining it when the other three started to eat.
She didn’t know much about proper etiquette but didn’t care about offending the host. Sitting around eating felt like an acceptance of the situation. She didn’t want to accept and wasn’t going to make the guy at the head of the table think she’d simply comply.
