Pamela was surprised to realize that Apollo was avoiding her. She was also surprised to realize how much his avoidance bothered her. She still caught him looking at her, but the moment she tried to meet his gaze, he turned from her and became very busy with whatever workman was near. He even avoided her during their lunch break. She sat with Eddie and Artemis and watched them flirt outrageously while she gobbled down one of the excellent gourmet sandwiches Eddie's genius cook made for everyone. Apollo had only paused long enough to grab a sandwich and send her a brief, distracted smile before he rejoined the architect over near the site where workers had already begun staking out the ground for the bathhouse.
Not that she wasn't busy herself. Today they were choosing the flooring, and it had turned out to be a major event. At first Eddie had wanted a horrid reproduction of the tacky fake stone flooring that was so nauseatingly abundant at The Forum. Thankfully, from her perch atop the dais where she stood regally, holding a bow in her hand instead of yesterday's vase, Artemis shook her head and said a quick, "Oh, no, Eddie. It is dreadful." And that was that. The laminated fake stone was instantly vetoed. Then Pamela had told the three representatives from the natural stone manufacturers to bring forward samples of their best marbles. And the deluge began. Eddie had been instantly enthralled with the different colors and varieties of the stone, and he kept moving from one outrageous sample to another, becoming more and more infatuated with each one and insisting that they choose a different color scheme for each room.
All in all, he was giving Pamela a pounding headache.
She tried to explain to him that with the open floor plan of his villa, abruptly going from Santiago marble, which was veined with reds, golds, siennas and greens, to Verde Fire, which was filled predominately with wild chartreuse, yellow and black, to Golden Alexandra, which was, well, golden, would be a terrible design error.
Artemis, again, saved the day.
"I like that one," she'd said, pointing one slender finger at a square of forgotten tile, lying well apart from the others.
"Do you, my goddess?" Eddie had said, instantly attentive.
Pamela had practically sprinted over to the tile. It was an understated creamy color, with slight buttercup variations which ran softly from a hint of yellow to a blush of gold. Pamela smiled. "It's lovely, but it's not marble. It's tumbled limestone." She carried it over to Artemis, who ran a caressing hand over its smooth surface.
"It's soft and perfect." Artemis looked at the author and purred. "Eddie, I would very much like to feel it pressed against my naked skin."
Eddie's eyes darkened. "Then allow me to fulfill your desire, my goddess. I choose this limestone to cover the floor of my humble home."
Humble home ? Oh, brother! Pamela wanted to roll her eyes. Instead, she winked a quick thank-you at Artemis and then began going over the specifics of the order with the delighted stone merchant. Somewhere in the middle of the weighty order she was struck with inspiration. She told the salesman to wait a second and, grinning, she rejoined Eddie on the bench near Artemis' dais.
"I have an idea you might find interesting," she said.
"Do tell us, Pamela!" Eddie said.
"Well, what would you think of putting the limestone in all the rooms of the villa, except the bathrooms. In them you get to go wild - choose a different marble for each of them, and then we'll create the color scheme and personality of that particular bathroom to reflect its own individual, distinct marble. It would be like an adventure to enter each powder room. And in the case of the bathrooms that are attached to suites, like the master suite and the five guest suites, we would take one color from the chosen marble and use it as the accent in the adjoining room."
"What a marvelous idea, Pamela!" Artemis said with what appeared to be genuine enthusiasm. "And what fun we'll have choosing each one."
Eddie's booming laugh caused several heads to turn. "Well done, Pamela!"
Pamela smiled at the big man. "Your home is going to be truly unique, Eddie." And for the first time she meant the words as a compliment. Then she called for the stone reps to bring out their most outlandish marble samples.
She was just sipping a bottle of icy sparkling water and studying a square of marble that reminded her of a kaleidoscope, when she felt Apollo's eyes on her. Again. She looked up. He must have been taking a break, because he was standing across the courtyard from her, looking over the artist's shoulder at the sketch being created of his sister. His head was still tilted down towards the sketch, but his eyes were on her. Automatically, her stomach tightened. Please don't let him look away, her errant thoughts whispered. She smiled tentatively at him. He returned her smile, and then his expression shifted, as if he remembered himself, and he dropped his eyes back to the sketch. Pamela sighed.
"Why do you punish him?"
Eddie's voice, uncharacteristically low, came from beside her. She jumped and wondered how the hell he'd gotten so close to her without being heard. Pamela glanced up at the big man, ready to insist that she didn't know what he was talking about... and the honest concern on his face stopped her dismissive words.
"I don't want to punish him. I just don't know what to do about him," she said.
"You do know that he loves you?"
Pamela blinked in surprise, and Eddie rumbled a low, subdued version of his laugh.
"You should always remember that I am an author, which is really just a storyteller who observes the world and then reshapes it into his own vision to entertain and amuse. Besides that, Phoebus does not attempt to hide his feelings for you - it is you who masks what your heart feels for him. Is that not so?"
"Yes," she said softly.
"I know it is presumptuous of me to ask, but why? He seems a man of excellent character."
She hesitated, unsure of whether she could tell him any part of the truth.
"You are safe talking to me, Pamela. What you say will not affect our business relationship. And I would like you to think of me as your friend. I have always considered it sublimely ridiculous when people say that they never mix business with pleasure. How colorless their lives must be as they trudge alone under the burden of such restrictive rules. So tell me, what is it that is keeping you from accepting Phoebus?"
She studied Eddie's eyes. They were guileless and filled with warm concern. "If I tell you the truth, do I need to be afraid that it will appear in one of your books?" she asked, only half in jest.
This time his laugh boomed throughout the courtyard. "That is always the danger when befriending an author." He leaned in and lowered his voice to a stage whisper, "but I give you my oath that I will change your name."
Making a decision based entirely upon what her gut was telling her, she blurted, "I'm scared of getting hurt. Aren't you?"
Eddie's gaze went from her to Artemis. For a moment sadness shadowed his face, then he drew a deep breath, and it was gone, replaced by a knowing smile. Without taking his gaze from the goddess, he said, "You will remember that when first we met I wanted the center statue of my fountain to be fashioned after an image of the god, Bacchus?"
"Yes," Pamela nodded, hoping like hell she hadn't said something to make him reconsider that horrid idea,
"Bacchus has long been a favorite of mine. He is not typically Olympian. Mythology reports that he was the last god to enter Olympus - Homer did not acknowledge him at all. His nature was alien to the other gods; they who loved order and beauty did not always appreciate the unique character of Bacchus or his worshipers. I understand that. I know what it is to be titled as one thing and thought of as another." He shook his head and looked fondly at Pamela. "But I digress. It is not Bacchus' story I want you to hear, but his mother's."
The big man motioned for one of the workers to bring chairs for them. She sat beside him, waiting while the author settled his girth and called for a cold glass of mead. When he asked if she would join him, she shrugged and nodded. Why not? When one worked for Eddie, one definitely colored outside the lines. After their mead arrived, Eddie took a long drink before launching into his story.
"Semele was a beautiful Theban princess. Born of mortal parents, she had the face and figure of a goddess. Unfortunately, she caught the eye of Zeus, the Supreme Ruler of Olympus. Zeus dallied with many mortal maidens, as did most of the gods and goddesses."
Here Pamela blew out a puff of disgruntled air and re-crossed her legs. Eddie smiled.
"Remember, my dear. It was a different world then. Pretend, for just a moment, that you are a lovely young girl living in ancient Greece. Born into a hardworking merchant family, you are dissatisfied with the role in life fate had allotted you. Do you cast aside your secret aspirations and quietly many as your family chooses? What if, say, a handsome man looked your way? Perhaps the eldest son of a wealthy landowner. He is out of your reach, but you find love in his arms. Suddenly you discover that you are with child. Are you driven from your household in shame as your betrothal is broken? Or do you describe how, one day while you were gathering flowers in a meadow outside the walls of the city a god appeared to you, seduced you, and fathered your child - a child who is then birthed with much ado and whose life is surrounded by mystery and magic?"
"I get your point," Pamela muttered.
"May I continue with my tale?"
"Sorry," she said, settling back in her chair and sipping her mead.
"As I was saying, Semele became one of Zeus' many mortal lovers. But she was different, and in more ways than just her extraordinary beauty. Mythology reports that Zeus was completely enamored with his young mistress, so much so that when she told him she was to bear his child he swore an oath by the River Styx that he would give her anything she asked of him." Eddie paused, sipping his mead in slow contemplation.
"Well? Then what happened?"
"Semele's heart's desire was to see Zeus in his full splendor as King of Olympus and Lord of the Thunderbolt. Zeus pleaded with his lover to take back her request. He knew that no mortal could behold him thus and live, but she would not recant her heart's desire. The Lord of Gods had sworn an oath by the River Styx, and not even he could break that bond. So, with his cheeks washed in tears of foreknowledge, he came to her one last time and revealed himself as she had asked, and before that awful, beautiful glory of his burning light, she died."
"But that can't be right. If she was dead, how was Bacchus born?"
"Because of his love for her, Zeus snatched his son from her womb as she perished and carried the child within his own thigh until it was time for the God of the Vine to be born."
Before yesterday Pamela would have reacted to Eddie's retelling of an ancient myth as little more than an amusing story. Now she knew too well that the possibility that it was much more than simple fiction was pretty good. She ached for the bittersweet tragedy of Semele, who had died because she refused to cast aside her heart's desire...
"I had no idea," Pamela said.
"Do you think Semele regretted her wish?" Eddie asked.
"Well, it killed her."
"But do you think she regretted it? Do you think she would have traded that moment of wonderful, awful fulfillment - fulfillment so great that her mortal body could not contain it - for a lifetime of safety bereft of that blinding instant of splendor?"
"I'm not sure I can answer that. What do you think, Eddie?"
"You must decide for yourself." His gaze turned from her and found Artemis. His smile was no longer tinged with sadness. "I have made my own decision."
"Aren't you scared?" Pamela found she could barely form the words.
"Of course. There are no guarantees in love, Pamela, just endless opportunities - for hurt and for happiness. But I can say without any misgivings that I would rather touch her for one instant and be burned, than to live my life in the darkness bereft of her light."
At his words something changed inside Pamela. Something within her that had been sleeping finally did more than stir and stretch. It came fully awake. She knew what living in the darkness felt like, and she also knew what it was to touch the light.
"I don't want a life bereft of his light, either," Pamela said through the catch in her throat.
Eddie looked at her and beamed. "Well done, Pamela! Well done." Abruptly, he stood, and his deep voice blasted throughout the villa. "Phoebus! Come to me!"
Pamela tried to say something - something like, "Wait, Eddie! I didn't mean I was ready to touch the blood buggering light right now!" but the author totally ignored her frantic whispers. When Apollo hurried up to them, she was mortified to realize that her face felt fiery. She was blushing like a schoolgirl. Great.
"There you are, my boy! I have a request of you."
"What can I do for you, Eddie?"
"I believe Pamela has been working too hard. I have one strict rule: always mix business with pleasure. Our Pamela is new to this rule," Eddie said as if Pamela wasn't sitting less than a foot from him with a bright red face.
"I have noticed that about our Pamela, too," Apollo said, trying to keep his expression neutral.
"Good! Then you understand exactly what has to be done." At the golden twin's blank expression, Eddie rose and clapped him on the shoulder. "Why, take her out of here, man! Stroll with her about the resort. Visit the springs and refresh yourselves. I'll instruct James to make sure he packs a lovely dinner for you, and we won't expect to see you again until dark."
Apollo looked as stunned as Pamela felt.
"James!" Eddie bellowed, and his assistant, as usual, miraculously appeared. "Tell Robert to take Pamela and Phoebus back to the resort. Have the staff pack them an old-fashioned picnic dinner. The two of them need some time to rest and to" - he hesitated and winked at Phoebus - "rejuvenate."
"Of course, Eddie," James said before hurrying off.
"Off you go," Eddie told them. "And don't worry, Pamela, Diana and I shall finish choosing the marble for the bathrooms."
"Are you sure you don't need me to double-check things with the limestone rep?"
"No, no, no," Eddie brushed away her concern. "The man has the blueprints. Now off with you!"
Seeing no other choice, Pamela got up and began walking with Apollo through the courtyard. The doors were open, and the sun reflected off the silver hood of the limo as it pulled up and braked in front of the villa. Apollo stopped.
"Remember, Phoebus, you must slay the dragon before you win the fair maid!" Eddie shouted from behind them.
The God of Light lifted a hand and waved back at Eddie with good humor, but Pamela heard his miserable sigh and noticed how his face had instantly paled at the sight of the limo. Apollo squared his shoulders and started forward again.
"Do they have dragons in the ancient world?" Pamela whispered, walking beside him.
"Yes, but they do not have cars. I can promise you that I'd rather face the dragons."
"I'll sit in the front seat with you."
"I can't slay it?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea." Pamela tried unsuccessfully not to laugh.