A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3)

by Folsom, Tina

  Still, it was late. Time to go home, sleep on it, and decide in the morning over a strong cup of Vivian’s coffee. She pulled on her jacket and picked up her purse when the outer door to her office opened.

  Her heart stuttered to a halt. Few people worked as late as she did. Who on earth would be in her outer office this time of night? She grasped the metal letter opener—shaped like a medieval sword—from the corner of her desk, clutched it in her hand and picked up the phone to call security.

  The inner door swung open. A man she hadn’t seen in almost two decades stood in the doorway. “Hello, Penelope.”

  The letter opener dropped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. “Dad?”

  In astonishment, she stared at him. The last time she’d seen her father had been in a court room, his head dropping as the judge handed down his sentence and the bailiff escorted him away. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  “What? Can’t a man visit his only daughter?”

  Penny raked her gaze over his face. He was older. Heavier. Wider with a lot less hair and a lot more skin. Especially around his neck. But he was definitely her dad. “When did you get out?” she asked, not knowing what to say or how to feel.

  “It’s . . . well, it’s been a few years.” There was that look again. Like the one he’d worn in the courtroom. The one that said he’d done wrong and he knew it. The real question to her was, did he even care?

  “A few years and you’re just now showing up?” She didn’t know why she was surprised. She stiffened. “I repeat, what are you doing here?”

  “I would have come sooner, it’s just . . . Well, it’s just that I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” His head dropped and then after a moment, after she still hadn’t said anything, he looked up at her. “I need help.”

  “Now there’s a big surprise,” she said dryly.

  “Why all the hate, Pen? I know I’ve made mistakes—”

  “Mistakes?” she repeated, bitterness, long buried but never forgotten, rising to the surface. “You can say that, considering you single-handedly destroyed our family.”

  “No, not single-handedly. I had a little help.”

  “Really, someone took your hand and made you steal from those people?”

  “I was desperate, Penny.”

  “Yes, like you are now? I have nothing to give, Dad, and nothing for you to take.”

  The hurt filling his eyes at her words stopped her, but only for a moment.

  “I don’t want anything from you,” he said.

  “Really?”

  The pain she so easily read on his face caused her a momentary jab of conscience, but then she remembered her own pain. Remembered what she had gone through every day after they’d sent him to prison. The taunts and jeers from the kids at school, the look of sadness in her grandmother’s eyes. But most of all, she remembered how her mother had left them, never to return.

  “As I said. It’s late. How did you find me here?”

  “I’ve always known where you were. I’ve been very . . . proud.”

  She stared at him, unblinking and unable to speak over the lump of disbelief in her throat. How dare he come back now and think he would be forgiven?

  “I need a place to stay. I’ve lost my job. My apartment. I’m on my last dime.”

  “And you haven’t found anyone else to mooch off of?” The words were harsh. She knew that. She just couldn’t stop herself. The pain, the anger, raw and sharp, was settling in and stretching its claws.

  He wrung his hands in front of him. Rough hands. Reddened hands. Had they always looked like that? She tried to think back, to remember, but where her father was concerned, her memory was a big, gaping black hole. “I was hoping you could take me in.”

  “No way,” Penny said quickly.

  “It would only be for a couple of weeks until I get back on my feet, I promise. I won’t be any trouble.”

  “Grams is ill. She doesn’t need the stress of seeing you right now. Of knowing the condition you’re in. It would upset her too much.”

  “Like the way it’s upsetting you?” The jab hit its mark.

  “Don’t you think you’ve already done enough to our family?” she shot back, much louder now.

  “Yes. I was just hoping . . . ” He shrugged. “Hoping to reconnect.”

  “Sorry, Dad. That bridge was torn down a long time ago and there is nothing left of it to salvage.”

  “Listen, honey!”

  “Leave!” she shouted.

  Suddenly, Michelle burst through the doorway, her blouse slightly askew and the top buttons open. “Is everything all right?” Michelle demanded. “We could hear your voices all the way down the hall.”

  “We?” Penny asked.

  Behind her, Kenton barged into the room. She’d never liked him much: wide shoulders, tight butt, plastic smile, but like so many self-absorbed, overly attractive men, he had the personality of tissue paper—thin and transparent with no moral substance. Kenton was also an impeccable dresser, which was why Penny now raised an eyebrow when she noticed that his tie had been loosened and his shirt looked wrinkled.

  “Yes, we,” Kenton added, stepping past Michelle as if wanting to protect her like a knight in shining armor. Well, it would have worked, had he not fumbled with his tie, trying to make himself look presentable and not as though he’d just had a passionate make-out session in a broom closet. “Your voices were quite loud. Is there a problem?”

  “No,” Penny said caustically. “No problem. Just family business.”

  All she could do was stare at Michelle and Kenton. Everything was so obvious now: he wanted his shot at tenure and would use any means necessary—even if that meant romancing Michelle. Only this morning, Michelle had told her she still had a chance at gaining the tenure spot. But by the looks of it, Michelle had already cast her vote.

  Kenton glanced curiously at her father, but Penny didn’t move. Nor did she say anything. She didn’t want her father here. She didn’t even want to know him, let alone introduce him to her colleagues.

  Her father stepped past her, his hand outstretched as he walked toward her boss and competitor. “Hi, I’m Penny’s father, Bart Galloway.”

  “I’m Kenton Lowry, an assistant professor in the same department as Penny.”

  “Michelle Shafer, I’m the dean of the history department,” her boss said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “No, no interruptions. We just have a little misunderstanding. But it’s all worked out now, isn’t it, Penny?”

  He turned to her, and she nodded. What else could she do? He had her cornered. She pasted a fake smile on her lips. “We did. Dad was just leaving. Weren’t you, Dad?”

  “Looks like it. I’ll see you at home, pumpkin.” He turned and walked out the door right behind Michelle and Kenton.

  Penny could hear them as they continued down the hall, making small talk. Becoming friendly. More than anything, she wanted to throw something, to scream and yell, to stomp her feet. Instead, she collapsed into her chair.

  Hermes’ card was sitting on top of her desk, staring at her. She picked it up and stared back at it. Hearing his warm, sexy voice right now was exactly what she needed to take her mind off her father, and the fact that even though her boss had claimed she was rooting for her, she’d already made her decision.

  Michelle and Kenton were having an affair. Right under her nose, two doors down the hall. And because of it, Kenton was going to get tenure instead of her.

  She had only one chance to make this right, and it was a slim one at best. And maybe a man who spoke Ancient Greek could somehow help her after all. Maybe he was simply eccentric—that didn’t automatically mean that he was crazy. She shook off a shiver and picked up the phone. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  7

  Hermes sank to the bottom of the murky river. The strong current rushed over him, stinging his eyes, filling his mouth, and pulling him swiftly downstream. Shock and fury barraged his system, p
ounding at him like a heavyweight champion. How dare Hades? He’d been there to help the old buzzard, and this was his thanks? Rage scourged his insides.

  He could tell by the curvature of the rock-hewn walls, polished by time to a smooth glassy surface, which part of the River Styx he was in. He was circling the endless loop portion that meandered round and round the underworld. On its banks, anguished souls waited for their admittance. The impatient ones had waded into the river, thinking they could cross on their own, unaware of its strong current and its depth. Those souls surrounded him now, grasping onto him, their eyes pleading, their bony fingers searching, pulling. The echoes of their despair beat against him like thrumming sound waves, or the frantic flapping of butterfly wings.

  He found a rocky outcropping and pulled himself halfway out of the water. He looked around him, contemplating what he should do next: go back and reason with Hades or get the hell out of there?

  His cell phone suddenly rang. He pulled it from his pocket, almost dropping it into the water when a desperate soul yanked at his arm to pull himself above the water. When he saw the number, a Charleston number, he pushed the poor sod off him and answered it.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to call so late,” the sweetest of voices said: Penny. Penny was calling him! And so soon after their first date. That was good news indeed. Clearly, his kiss had done the trick.

  He instantly recalled the taste of her lips and the feel of her body’s lush curves. Somehow, after one dinner and a couple of sweet kisses, she’d managed to get under his skin.

  “I’m sorry I had to rush off tonight to get some work done, without telling you how much I enjoyed our dinner together.”

  Was she really saying this to him? Or was he hallucinating? Despite the fact that he was still in the bowels of the underworld, he felt as if he were floating on a cloud over Olympus. Penny had the hots for him! Why else would she call him so soon after their date? If he’d been the one doing that, he would have sounded desperate, but Penny calling him was, well, delightful.

  “Me, too. I had a wonderful time.”

  “Listen, I wanted to make it up to you for cutting our evening short.”

  Hermes swallowed hard, his cock rising simultaneously, despite the frigid water covering his lower half. Was this a booty call? Fuck, yeah! Penny was inviting him to come to her house and her bed. However, before he could form a single word to respond to her, a scream nearly pierced his eardrum, as another soul slammed against one of the treacherous rocks ahead of him.

  “What was that?” Penny asked, her voice panicked. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, nothing.” He searched for an explanation. “The TV. Sorry.”

  “Oh, I didn’t want to disturb.”

  “No, no, you’re not disturbing at all,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s a really bad movie. Really bad.” He glared at a soul attempting to pull itself up by grabbing Hermes’ shirt. “Lots of blood and gore, no plot.” Then he wrenched the soul’s hand free of himself and tossed the unfortunate toward the bank of the river.

  “Well, I’m glad.” She paused for a moment. “Not about the bad movie, of course. Just that I’m not disturbing.”

  He grinned to himself. Disturbing? “You could never disturb me. I’ve been thinking about you.”

  A nervous chuckle came through the line. “Thanks.”

  When another soul tugged at him, trying to pull him back under, Hermes had had enough. He kicked his sandals into gear, and like little propellers, they lifted him out of the water, off the little clump of sharp rocks, and transported him to the far bank of the river, which was virtually empty. Finally, he could concentrate on the phone call.

  “It’s true. If you hadn’t called, I would have called you.”

  “To say what?” she fished.

  “That I’d like to see you again. Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Tonight?”

  She laughed. “Oh. Uh, how about lunch tomorrow?”

  A tad disappointed that this was no booty call after all, he turned his back to the river. “Lunch? I’d like that.” He reached down and gave himself a soothing rub. Sorry, buddy, you’ll have to wait a little longer, he consoled his aching cock. He was definitely hungry for her, and a little afternoon delight was exactly what he needed after a night like tonight, but the wait would be excruciating. “Where should I meet you?” he asked.

  “How about the Garden Inn at noon?”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  “Good night,” she said and disconnected the line.

  For a moment, he stood there and replayed their conversation. Things were going better than he’d expected. Tomorrow, he’d have dessert after lunch. A dessert he’d savor and explore: Penny. And then he’d have seconds.

  But first, he’d have to deal with one other minor annoyance: Zeus.

  After having seen the state the underworld was in, because the workers were on strike to bargain for better benefits and more money, his anger at Zeus only grew. The river was clogged to the point of overflowing, with more and more souls trying to cross it on their own, not wanting to wait until the ferry service was reinstated.

  The last thing Zeus should be doing right now was running off for some romantic dalliance in New York City, instead of taking care of his business in the underworld where he was needed. It was time Zeus, as well as Hades, took responsibility for this. Without using him as a punching bag in the middle! It was time Hermes went on strike. Only then would those two stubborn idiots work out their differences.

  Having made up his mind, Hermes dialed the new cell phone he’d given Zeus. Of course, the line just rang and rang, mushrooming Hermes’ anger into a nuclear cloud. He waited for the beep, then left a message, his jaw stiff, his teeth clenched.

  “Father, I delivered your contract. Hades had a fit over the details, refused to sign, and threw me into the Styx. This situation will not be resolved until you come down here personally and negotiate with Hades. Until then, I’m out of it. In fact, consider me on vacation until further notice. In other words, find yourself another messenger boy!” He disconnected the line, feeling strangely relieved and curiously free, as if unshackled for the first time in a century after not even being aware he’d been bound.

  He looked at the miserable souls passing him by, the dark gothic castle in the distance, turned his back on it all, and walked away.

  ***

  Penny hadn’t been sleeping well. When she wasn’t tossing and turning over the prospect of losing her job, she was worried about her dad and what he wanted from them. And she had to find a way to tell her grandmother about his visit.

  Now she stood in the kitchen of Grams’ bungalow over the stove, making breakfast and feeling on edge. What was she going to say to her grandmother? She’d lived here with her ever since her father had gone to prison, and her mother, unable to face the gossipmongers in this close-knit community, had run away. It wasn’t just that her dad had stolen a car, but he had gotten drunk and, while joy riding in the stolen car, killed another family. Grand theft auto, driving while under the influence, and two counts of manslaughter. Twelve years. Two destroyed families, and damage that could never be undone.

  And now the no-good crook was back in her life.

  He needed her help, and she was feeling guilty for sending him away. Ridiculous. Where had he been when she’d needed him? When her mother had needed him? When the other kids had been tormenting her at school? He’d been in prison. She sighed and flipped the bacon.

  She’d been wondering for many years what she would say to him when he finally showed up. Wondering if she would ever be able to forgive him enough to form a relationship with a man she didn’t even know, and barely remembered.

  Now he was back.

  Wanting her help. Wanting a place to live. When in a few months Penny and her grandmother would lose everything if Penny lost her job.

  She placed the bacon on the plate, broke two eggs into the pan, and while t
hey cooked, buttered the toast and poured the juice. Then she slipped the eggs onto the plate and carried the tray into her grandmother’s room.

  “Good morning, Grams,” she said cheerfully as she walked into the dimly lit bedroom. She placed the tray on the bedside table, then opened the blinds, letting in the sunshine. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Good. I feel really good.” Her grandmother smiled at her, and shifted in her hospital bed. She pressed a button lifting the back of the bed so that she was in a sitting position.

  Penny placed the tray table in front of her then took a seat in the chair next to the bed. She couldn’t stand the idea of keeping her dad’s visit from her. Her grandmother had longed to see him, even making excuses for his poor behavior over the years. Penny should tell her, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. To see the hope in her grandmother’s eyes, knowing he’d sweep in and hurt her all over again. Knowing if he truly cared, he would have been here years ago when he’d first gotten out.

  “Tell me, how is it going at work?” her grandmother asked, taking a sip from her juice.

  “Oh, fine,” Penny lied, but she shouldn’t have bothered.

  “I know that look.” Her grandmother’s bright blue eyes locked onto Penny’s face. Grams always read her so well. While her grandmother knew that she ultimately wanted to get tenure at the university, Penny couldn’t confide in her what was at stake now. There was no use in worrying her.

  “I just have to spend more time on my research in the next few weeks and think up something new to impress the tenure committee. Otherwise, Kenton has a good shot at beating me.” More like an unfair advantage.

  Her grandmother smiled. “You will do it. I have faith in you.”

  “More faith than I have in myself,” Penny muttered.

  “You should put all that out of your mind and get out more. You spend too much time here taking care of me. You need to find yourself a nice man and settle down. Raise a family.”