Unamused Muse (Mt. Olympus Employment Agency: Muse Book 2)

by R. L. Naquin

  Otis flicked his gaze from Lita to me, then frowned a little. “I suppose you are, poor thing. White or red? Would you like a glass of ice water, as well?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing but a timid squeak came out.

  Lita put her hand on my back and gave it a pat. “That’s what I thought. Come sit down. Eat first. Talk when you’re ready.” She guided me to the stool and waited for me to get comfortable before she removed her hand and went to the walk-in refrigerator to pull out a chilled bottle of white wine.

  While she poured, Otis set out a platter stacked high with a variety of sandwiches, followed by a crystal bowl filled with fruit. There was so much food in front of me, I wondered who else was coming.

  Otis gave me an empty plate, and Lita handed me an embarrassingly large glass of wine. Then they stood there, watching me with expectant smiles.

  I gave them a polite smile back and took a sip of wine. The cool, dry liquid rolled down my throat, warming and calming my insides. My lips curled up in a more natural smile. “That’s very good, thank you.”

  Otis clapped his hands in delight. “Excellent! She can talk. Have something to eat, love. I didn’t know what you like, so I made a little of everything.”

  I peered at the teetering stack. “This isn’t all for me.”

  He waved his hand and made a sound like air squishing out of a cushion. “Of course it’s for you. But the leftovers won’t go to waste. I promise. Just enjoy.”

  The intensity with which they both watched me made me twitchy—as if my choice of sandwich would predict the future of nations. I hovered my hand over what looked like tuna on whole grain, then went for the peanut butter and jelly on white bread, instead. Each sandwich was cut in half with the crusts removed, as if I were a spoiled child. The PB&J went down in three bites, and my stomach woke up to the full rage of having missed lunch.

  Roast beef and sharp cheddar. Salami and Swiss. Bacon, lettuce, and tomato. Egg salad. Chicken salad. So many choices. And every one that I tried was fabulous in a way that sandwiches hadn’t been since I was a little girl on summer vacation after running through the sprinklers all day.

  I was on my fourth half-sandwich—pastrami and provolone on rye—when I finally slowed down and realized they were still staring at me. I took a sip of wine. And set down my sandwich with a sheepish look. “Guess I was hungrier than I realized. I really appreciate it. Everything is delicious.”

  Otis spooned some fruit on my plate. “You eat your fill, now. I know they don’t feed you in those dorms, and I doubt you’ve been feeding yourself very well.”

  I thought about the bowl of cereal I’d rushed through that morning—the last thing I’d eaten. He was right. I wasn’t doing a very good job of feeding myself. I glanced at the sliced fruit on my plate and nearly drooled on myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had fruit. I shoved a forkful of strawberries in my mouth and regarded the rest of the fruit—mandarin oranges, bananas, grapes, kiwis, and tiny pomegranate seeds.

  I raised one eyebrow and chased the little red gem around on my plate. In mythology, Persephone ate pomegranate seeds in the Underworld and had to stay with her husband for the same amount of months as she’d eaten these same seeds. I narrowed my eyes and glanced up at the two people watching me. “Anything I should know before I eat these?”

  They looked at each other in surprise and burst out laughing. It took them at least a minute to regain composure.

  Lita cleared her throat. “No, dear. That was just a story. You go right ahead.”

  Otis grinned. “Pomegranates don’t have any special powers, love. If we were trying to trap you, we could have done it just as well with peanut butter.”

  A chill ran up my back. My face must’ve shown my agitation because they started laughing again.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Lita said, still chuckling. “He’s teasing you.” She touched my cheek. “We don’t get many people over anymore. Promise you’ll come visit with us again when you have time? We want to hear all about you and your life out in the world.”

  Their grins had faded, and their faces had taken on a more intense, almost needy look.

  My discomfort turned to concern—almost pity. I wondered if they were ever allowed outside the mansion. “If you like, sure. You know, you don’t have to stuff me, though.”

  Otis nodded. “Of course, of course. Maybe just a few sandwiches next time. A nice soup.” He tapped his chin in thought. “Or some cupcakes. Do you like cupcakes?”

  I wiped my mouth and tried not to burp. “I adore cupcakes. But honestly, I’ll come visit. You don’t have to bribe me with food.”

  They made a fuss over me on my way out, and Otis insisted on wrapping up several sandwiches and a plastic bowl of fruit to send with me. On the way back to the office, I wondered if they did the same thing when Kris or Parker dropped off the dry cleaning.

  I had to admit, the pomegranate thing had been kind of funny. Of course nobody was trying to keep me there forever. A girl had to eat, so that whole thing about not eating in the Underworld had to be an old wives’ tale.

  Another cold chill ran down my back, and I had to pull the golf cart over. I clutched the steering wheel with both hands while I waited for the feeling to pass. Parker and Kris lived in the Underworld, not in temporary housing like I did.

  How many pomegranate seeds had they eaten?

  How many sandwiches?

  Chapter 5

  I kept my worries that I’d eaten my way into permanent Underworld residence to myself for the rest of the day and all of Friday. Phyllis asked me several times what was wrong, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it. If I was stuck there, I didn’t want to know. Not yet, anyway.

  The whole thing was probably silly, anyway.

  When Saturday rolled in, all worries about my future blew away. My only concern was getting through my date with Max.

  At least I wasn’t totally on my own. Despite my rarely running into my dorm mates, Donna and Nadia had somehow gotten wind of the wedding date with Max.

  They swarmed me.

  “Quit fussing.” Nadia tossed her red braid over her shoulder and scrunched her face in concentration. “Your eyeliner needs to be smudged. Hold still.”

  My eyes watered as she flicked a brush below my lash line.

  Donna held up two dresses. “What do you think, Nadia? Is the black mini too much for a daytime wedding?”

  The other woman stopped decorating my face and examined the dresses. “Yeah. Go with the blue one. I like the fluttery skirt. Good for dancing.”

  My heart thudded. “Dancing? There’s going to be dancing?”

  Nadia rolled her eyes and grabbed my chin to keep my head still while she applied blush to my cheeks. “Of course there’s going to be dancing. It’s a wedding.”

  Donna hung the blue dress on the bathroom door. “None of the shoes you brought work with Nadia’s dress. I’m putting the other one back in my closet and finding you some shoes.” She disappeared with the black dress.

  I’d brought a few outfits of my own down to the Underworld, but none of them had passed muster with these two. The idea of making me over and sending me off like Cinderella had them acting as if it were their life’s work. The fate of nations rested on my spaghetti-strapped shoulders.

  The end result was worth getting pushed around. The dress fit perfectly and swirled when I spun, my makeup looked natural—me, but amplified—and my short spiky hair lay in soft waves like a halo. They’d done a much better job than I’d have done on my own.

  Obviously pleased with themselves, they gave me one last inspection and cleared out of the bathroom, as if they’d never been. I flipped off the light and returned to my room to wait.

  “Well, let’s see,” Phyllis said, waving a branch. “Give me a spin.”

  I spun, trying not to roll my eyes. “Do I meet with your approval?”

  “Spin faster.” Phyllis was always bossy.

  Humoring her, I spun several times, as f
ast as I could. The filmy dress spread around me in a cloud, then settled around me like a graceful jellyfish when I stopped.

  Phyllis gasped. “Oh, Wynter. Shame on you.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Not only can I see your underwear when you spin, you’re not even wearing decent undergarments. What’s he going to think?”

  “He’s not going to think anything. I’m not going to flash him my undies. It’s not even a real date.”

  “It’s a real date.”

  “It’s not.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Besides. I need to do laundry. This is all I’ve got that’s clean.”

  “You’ll never find a man with that attitude, missy.”

  I was about to object, but the knock on the door cut me off. I smoothed my skirt, double-checking it wasn’t flipped up or tucked in anywhere, then opened the door.

  Max stood in the hall flashing his dazzling grin and holding a bouquet of big, yellow sunflowers. “Am I too early?” His words tumbled over each other as if they were racing each other to get out. “Are you ready? You look ready. In fact you look fantastic. Hey! We’re wearing the same color. Your dress matches my shirt.” He stopped, took a breath, and thrust the flowers forward. “These are for you.”

  “Hi, Max.” I smiled and took the flowers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful. Let’s get them in some water.”

  I shut the door and walked with him down the hall to the community kitchen. After a short search, I found a vase and filled it with water.

  “I hope you like sunflowers.” The poor man was sweating. The easy-going charmer I’d met twice on the road was gone, replaced by a nervous wreck. “I wanted to find something a little different. You know, less cliché than your typical roses or carnations.”

  I looked up from my flower arranging and searched his face. He didn’t look like he was hiding anything, and as nervous as he was, I doubted he could hide his darkest secrets let alone something simple like leaving me an anonymous rose on my passenger seat.

  But if it wasn’t Max, who was it?

  “They’re beautiful.” I placed the last flower in with the rest and picked up the vase. “I’ll just drop these in my room and we can go. Be right back.”

  “Be right here!” He dropped into a chair and mopped his brow with the back of his hand.

  Poor guy.

  I slipped into my room and stood with my back against the door.

  “It’s a date,” I said, horrified.

  “Told you.” Phyllis flipped a smug leaf at me. “Now, try to keep an open mind, alright? Maybe he’s The One.”

  I gave a tiny shake of my head. “He’s not The One.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because there’s no such thing as The One. All there are out there are bad choices or better choices.”

  Phyllis sighed. “Oh, honey. Just go have a good time. Don’t overthink it.”

  “I wasn’t until everybody started acting crazy.” I flipped off the overhead light and clicked on Phyllis’ UV lamp. “I’ll do my best. And I promise not to spin too hard.”

  ~*~

  I’d always thought Hell was attending other people’s weddings. I was wrong. Hell was attending other people’s weddings with a stranger as my date.

  No. Not Hell. The Underworld. That was the politically correct term.

  At least I’d survived to tell the tale.

  When I stepped into the office Monday morning, Parker and Kris were both waiting for me with expectant looks on their faces.

  “Well?” Parker pushed his desk chair around so I could sit, since his wife was using mine. “How did the date go?”

  “And don’t tell us it wasn’t a date,” Kris said. “It’s always a date.”

  I took a deep breath and dropped my purse on the edge of my desk before collapsing into the chair. “It was…messy.”

  Parker frowned. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  Kris flapped her hand at him. “Don’t interrupt.” She turned and flapped the same hand at me. “Start at the beginning. Did he pick you up at your room or did you meet him outside?”

  I did not want to tell this story. But the two of them had been so kind to me the past week, I couldn’t act like—well, like myself. I couldn’t close up like a delicate flower in a rainstorm. If I was ever going to get good at having friends, I had to learn to share even my stupid moments.

  I sighed. “He came to my door covered in sweat and carrying flowers.”

  “Ooh, flowers!” Kris clapped her hands. “Excellent start. So, he was sweaty and nervous?”

  “Yes. He didn’t calm down until halfway through the wedding ceremony.”

  Kris and Parker exchanged an odd look, then returned their attention to me.

  Kris brightened. “So, how was the ceremony? Was it beautiful?”

  “It was pretty. A little odd.” I was an open-minded person. Each to his or her own. Still, it was kind of jarring to attend a plural marriage ceremony when I wasn’t expecting it. In this case, there were two grooms and one bride. “The bride, Chelsea, was beautiful. Her dress was gorgeous—white with purple and gold lace, one shoulder bare so it kind of mimicked a toga. Really pretty. Both grooms—Tad and Ryan—wore white tuxes with purple and gold ties. The vows were simple, then they passed around a gold chalice with wine in it and each took sips.”

  “Ah.” Parker nodded his head. “It was a Bacchus ceremony. Were there grapes hanging everywhere?”

  “Yes. And they passed the chalice to the family, refilled it, and passed it back and forth to all of the guests.” I’d been reluctant to sip from a cup already touched by the lips of a hundred strangers, but I was more reluctant to make a scene than I was to catch the plague. Ironic, as it turned out.

  “Oh, I hate that,” Kris said. “So gross. But what can you do?”

  “You drink.” I shrugged. “Anyway, after that, Max seemed to loosen up a bit. By the time the reception was underway, he was his charming, pushy self again.”

  “So, did you have a good time?” Kris leaned as far forward as she could with her baby belly in the way. “You said it was messy.”

  “I guess I had a good time. The band was good. The wine geyser was a new one for me, but for a Bacchus-themed wedding, I suppose it was appropriate. They had a ton of food from all over the world. It was nice.” I scowled. “Until Max dragged me out on the dance floor.”

  Parker smirked. “Can’t he dance?”

  I answered slowly. “No, he’s a surprisingly good dancer.”

  “So, you can’t dance?” Kris asked.

  “I’m not too bad. Usually.”

  “So, what was the problem?” Parker sat on the edge of the desk and tilted his head.

  My voice was quiet. “He spun me. Fast.”

  Parker’s eyebrows rose. “Why do I feel like you’re about to describe a catastrophe?”

  I stared at him, my face growing hot with embarrassment at the memory. “The dress was too fluttery. I needed to do laundry. Phyllis said—” I broke off and hid my face in my hands. “I tried to hold my skirt down while I spun. My foot caught on something, and I….” I paused, wishing I could stop there. I took a breath and blurted it out. “I landed in the chocolate fountain.”

  Everything after that was a blur. Strawberries flew everywhere. Warm chocolate oozed down my neck and arms. A few drunk people caught drips off of my elbows with marshmallows, then made s’mores with them. Graham cracker crumbs went down my bra. Pound cake was stuck to the side of my face.

  The left side and all down the front of Nadia’s dress was a disaster. It no longer fluttered so much as slapped wetly against my legs when I walked.

  The band stopped playing, and everyone turned to stare at the girl who loved dessert so much she had to become part of it.

  Good thing I’d managed to keep from showing my laundry-day granny panties. Otherwise, I might’ve embarrassed myself.

  At that moment, Phyllis had not been my favorite person.

 
Kris groaned. “Oh, honey.” She cast a frantic eye around the desk and finally grabbed a small tin which she opened and thrust toward me. “Mint?”

  I took one and sucked on it, miserable. “He took me home after that. Not really expecting a second date.” I’d brought Nadia’s dress with me to work so I could take it to Mo’s and see if she could rescue it. Quickly. No telling when I’d run into Nadia.

  Kris looked as miserable as I felt, then shook it off. “You know the best way to shake off a bad date?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Heavy use of narcotics and a marathon of the Golden Girls?”

  “Tut tut! No negativity here.” She gave me a stern look.

  I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Did you just tut tut me?”

  She grinned. “I totally did.” She pulled out her cellphone and tapped it. “Since you obviously don’t know the answer to my question, I’ll tell you the best way to shake off a bad date.”

  Parker jogged around the desk and peered at her phone. “No, not that one. This one.” He pointed to something on her screen.

  “Agreed.” She set the phone down. “We’re going to set you up with our friend Scooter.”

  I shook my head so hard I pulled a muscle. “No, no, no, absolutely not, no.” I hadn’t been much interested in going out on a date in the first place. Going out on another date to get over the suckage of the first had zero appeal. Plus…Scooter? Really? I hoped it was a nickname and not one his parents had given him.

  Not that it mattered what I thought. Parker and Kris ignored me entirely.

  Parker checked his watch. “He works evenings, but he should probably be up by now. He’s off on Thursday nights. Thursday good with you, Wynter?”

  “Not really.” My lower lip pooched out in a pout they didn’t bother to notice.

  “Good. Good. We’ll make it for Thursday.” He opened the filing cabinet by the door and pulled out a large envelope. “We’ll take care of it while you’re gone.” He handed me the envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Today is Monday.” His smile was almost obnoxious. “It’s the new gate code. Better hurry. Mandy’s waiting for you.”