Goddess of Love (5 page)

She stared at herself in the mirror as she manically
battement tendu jeté
-ed. Why was it so hard for her to transfer the self-confidence that permeated the rest of her life to her personal style and appearance? Was it just her past that was holding her back? Her fear that if she tried and this time, as an adult, failed, she would truly be forever doomed to the ranks of wallflower and undesirable dork?

“Enough! We are
fini
for today, Dorreth,” Madam Ringwater said, with a look of disgust. “You cannot
concentré sur le ballet
when your mind is on the boudoir.”

Pea gasped and froze mid-toe lift. “But Madam Ringwater, I'm not—”

The ancient dance instructor lifted her well manicured hand, silencing Pea. “
L'amour fait des imbéciles de nous tous
. Now go. Next time you will work twice as hard,
oui
?”

“Okay. Yes. I'm sorry, Madam, I just…” Pea shrugged, not really knowing if she felt embarrassed or pleased. Impulsively she hugged the old woman before she grabbed her towel and hurried out of the studio. No one had ever said anything like that to her before! No one had ever even implied that
she
might be preoccupied with what went on in her bedroom. Maybe her life was changing.

Well, she was willing—she was! She would…she would…Pea chewed her lip as she got in her car and backed out of the studio parking lot. She would not let this…whatever it was that had suddenly grabbed hold of her go. Pea drove aimlessly for a while, and then her eyes widened when she saw the big red-and-white Borders sign for the Twenty-first Street store. That was it! She'd go into the bookstore and research how to get some style—some sense of nonordinaryness. She could figure out how to cook a gourmet meal, change her oil, tear down old wallpaper and make a room look magnificent. She could even plan classes for the entire continuing education department at her college. Surely she could teach herself how to be less…less…dorky.

Why had she not thought of it like that before? She knew the answer all too well. She had let the past rule her present. Pea wanted to slap herself on the forehead. Well, she wasn't going to let it control her future! Personal style wasn't some kind of dark, mysterious, unknown woman's territory that was off limits to her. It was just something she needed to learn. And this damn sure wasn't high school anymore. Post–high school and college she'd learned how to do all sorts of hard things. Successfully. Style had to be just another learnable skill. Sure, it was too embarrassing to ask someone like perfect, Barbie-like Stacy to teach her personal style, but couldn't she just read about it? Man, oh man! She'd been such an idiot! She'd already maybe kinda attracted an incredibly handsome man's attention who she'd been crushing on for a year. Didn't that mean she at least had potential to work with? Pea was going to make herself believe it did. She parked right in front of Borders and, like a woman with a mission, marched into the store.

I
t wasn't until she'd seen the matron sobbing semihysterically in the
women's self-help aisle that she thought about the English translation to the French sentence Madam Ringwater had said to her.
L'amour fait des imbéciles de nous tous
, Pea suddenly realized, meant
Love makes fools of us all
. She tried not to stare at the weeping woman who was holding a copy of a book titled
Why Men Love Bitches
.

Pea decided that maybe she was in the wrong section and left women's self-help to cross through the gay and lesbian studies section. No point in stopping there. Not unless she wanted to change teams. She paused and considered whether she'd be interested in having sex with a woman. No. Well at least she was sure about that. Pea left that section and moved to the adjoining shelves labeled New Age, where the brightly colored spines snagged her attention.

The first pretty book she pulled off the shelf was titled
Magick & Rituals of the Moon
. Curious, Pea thumbed through it. Chapter titles like “The Full Moon Esbat” and “Waxing and Waning Moon Magick” were as foreign to Pea as they were intriguing. She put the book back and let her eyes roam over the other titles.
Earth Power, Powerful Protection Magic
, and
Magical Rites from the Crystal Well
continued to pique her interest. Wow! She'd never heard of any of these books—or any of these ideas. Was this witchcraft? She noticed a book titled
Wicca Demystified
by Bryan Lankford. Huh. Guess some of it was witchcraft. Pea shrugged, literally and figuratively. At least there were no sobbing women in this aisle. Then something flickered at the edge of her vision. Something like the flutter of butterfly wings or maybe the faint sputter of a candle in a breeze. Pea turned and she felt a little catch in her breath, as if someone had just whispered a cool secret to her. The hardback book's spine was the color of heavy cream and it beckoned with its richness. In silver script the title appeared to shine:
Discover the Goddess Within—Unleash Venus and Open Your Life to Love
. Her hand reached out, almost hesitantly, even though her full attention had been captured by the book. With a subdued
shush
sound it slid free from between the two books pressed against it.

Pea ran her fingers over the cover. The title was there in raised silver embossed script, along with the author's name, Juno Panhellenius, which should have seemed weird, but Pea thought instead it felt right that the author's name evoked a sense of ancient magic and mystery. The only decoration on the cover was the silver outline of a timeless (and very curvy) goddess figure. Her arms were upraised with the full moon resting between her hands. The goddess looked sexy and mysterious and desirable. Pea thought how odd it was that the book felt cool beneath the balls of her fingertips. She opened it and glanced down the table of contents: “Know Venus and Know Confidence,” “Know Venus and Know Beauty,” “Know Venus and Know Sexual Confidence”…and on and on until, finally, “Know Venus—Evoke the Goddess!”

A trickle of excitement skittered through Pea's body. That was it! If she could teach herself to have the confidence of a goddess then surely she'd no longer be invisible! And what better goddess than the Goddess of Love, Venus herself? Who could ignore Venus? If a woman had the allure of a goddess, what couldn't she do? (Or
who
couldn't she do?) Giggling softly, Pea clutched the book to her chest and hurried toward the checkout line.

Pea felt light and happy and hopeful as she pulled out of the Borders parking lot and, on impulse, headed downtown. She checked the time—five thirty-five. Yes! Her favorite restaurant, Lola's at the Bowery, would be open, but it was still early enough that it wouldn't be too crowded. She'd grab the corner table, which was perfect for reading, and order her favorite appetizer, the Italian antipasto platter. Oooh! She might even treat herself to one of Lola's specialty martinis; it'd be like she was on holiday!

What better way to turn a new page in her life?

 

“Admit it, Venus. I was right,” Persephone said.

“You were, and I don't mind admitting it. Tulsa is simply marvelous! I can't believe you've been keeping the secret of this modern kingdom to yourself,” Venus said.

“I'm not keeping it a secret! I told you about it.”

“Ha! Only after I saw those divine boots.”

“Of which you now own a pair, too.”

“Along with these adorable earrings!” Venus shook her head so that the long, hand-beaded dangles danced around her graceful throat. “What was that wonderful bead place called again?”

“The Bead Gallery. The modern woman I'm friends with, Lina Santoro, introduced me to Donna Prigmore's gallery during one of my early trips here. As Lina says, she makes jewelry fit for a goddess.”

“So true, and such a lovely surprise. I'll also admit you were right about these drinks.” Venus sipped from the frosty martini glass and moaned dramatically in almost sexual pleasure. “What did you call this inspired creation?”

“It's one of Lola's specialty martinis. You're drinking the Nuptial, a mixture of Skyy vanilla vodka and butterscotch schnapps. It says on the menu that you'll love it so much it'll be till death do you part!”

“Very appropriate for the Goddess of Love,” Venus said, laughing, and then she lowered her voice. “Oops! By Hera's freezing tits it's hard to remember that no one knows who I am here, so I really should be careful about what I say.”

“Venus. Honey. Calling yourself a goddess won't make modern mortals believe you're
really
a goddess, but using that archaic curse will get you some weird looks from them. Not to mention you'd make Hera mad if she heard you.” Persephone grinned. “And, anyway, how do you know her tits are freezing?”

“Well, they must be. She's always all”—the Goddess of Love paused and searched for the right word—“nippley. You know it's true. And she always wears those see-through white chitons. Who could miss her
arousal
? They're so puckered and erect. It makes me think Zeus might not be taking care of her needs. As Goddess of Love, perhaps I should speak to him—”

Persephone choked on her martini, and then sputtered. “Now that is something I want to see! You questioning the almighty Zeus about whether he's an adequate lover or not!”

“It's perfectly my right to question even Zeus.” Venus sniffed haughtily. “Love is always my business.” Then her eyes widened and she grinned mischievously. “Which is exactly why I bought…” The goddess reached down and pulled a long, cylinder-shaped box from one of the shopping bags by her feet. “This!” She raised the box with a flourish.

Persephone shook her head and tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle. “I can't believe you actually bought that thing.”

“How could I not after reading its name?” She pointed to the shiny black box that had the words
Venus D'My Lay
written in bright scarlet letters across it. “How do you get in this thing?”

“You're going to open it? Right here?”

Venus glanced up at her, violet eyes bemused. “Why not?”

“Well, it looks like a…”

Venus managed to wrestle open the lid and slide out its contents. Holding it up, she finished for Persephone, “A big black phallus!”

“It certainly does.” Persephone stared. “Actually it's disturbingly real. What does it feel like?”

Venus caressed the long, black shaft, running her slender fingers knowingly over its rounded head and fleshlike ridges and veins. “It feels nice. Much more realistic than the phalli the ancients carve. I mean, really. Not even a god's penis truly gets as hard as marble, no matter what Apollo may boast. How does it work?” Venus enthusiastically shook the huge dildo with a jerking-it-off motion, getting several interesting looks from men sitting at the bar, which she chose, for the moment, not to acknowledge. “It says it vibrates, but it's not vibrating.” She frowned.

“Give me that thing. You have to put in the batteries.”

“Batteries?”

“Modern magic that makes it work.”

“Oooh.” Venus sipped her martini while she watched Persephone insert batteries into the shaft of the phallus. “So those things will really cause it to vibrate?”

“That's what the girl at Pricilla's Toy Box said.”

“She was oddly pierced. Did she remind you of an Amazon warrior, too?” Venus asked.

“Now that you mention it, there was something wild and warriorlike about her. She might not quite be an Amazon, but I think Artemis would approve of her,” Persephone said. “Here. Try turning it on now.” She passed the penis across the table and pointed to the hidden switch in its base. Venus stroked it on. The huge member came alive, humming happily.

Venus gasped. “By Zeus's swinging testicles! It is magic!”

“Okay.” Persephone looked quickly around the chic restaurant, frowning severely at the men at the bar who were clearly being very entertained by Venus's uninhibited show. She took the vibrator from the goddess, flipped it off and put it back in its box. “You really might want to rethink the divine genitalia cursing.”

“What?”

“The tits and testicles of the Olympians just aren't used as curses here.” She dropped the Venus D'My Lay in the shopping bag and unobtrusively kicked the bag under their table.

“Persephone. I am Goddess of Love.” Venus kept her voice low but firm. “It's always appropriate for me to curse using references to genitals. Anyone's genitals.”

“Do you want to fit in here?”

“Of course! I adore modern mortals. I can already tell that the men are appreciative without being sycophants. And the women move with such a delicious sense of freedom and power. I plan on spending many happy days exploring this wonderful kingdom.”

“Then leave the genitals of the gods and goddesses out of it.”

Venus frowned, looking unusually pensive. “I'm not sure I can. You know I prefer to refer to love whenever I can.”

Persephone raised one delicate eyebrow. “Love?”

“Naturally. Genitals equal love—love equals genitals. Persephone, darling, do we need to have a more private talk? How have your orgasms been lately? Are you experiencing multiple releases? And when you don't have a partner, have you been pleasuring yourself adequately?”

Persephone raised her hands, palms out. “Stop. You win. Use whatever curses please you most. Just be prepared to be questioned about them.”

“I'm always prepared to answer questions about love.” Venus smiled sweetly. “But first I want…” She caught the young waitress's eye and waggled her fingers at their two almost-empty martini glasses.

“Did you ladies want another round?”

“Darling, you said your name was Jenny, didn't you?” Venus asked.

“That's right.” The waitress smiled. “Two more martinis?”

“Yes, but this time let's try the Wake,” Persephone said.

“Excellent! You'll love it. I'll bring those right out.”

“The Wake?” Venus asked Persephone after Jenny hurried off.

“It's yummy—chocolate liqueur, espresso, vodka, ice crystals…” She licked her lips and shivered in delight. “Trust me on this.”

“Oh, I do! It sounds decadent. I'm certain I'll love it. I've loved everything else in this kingdom.”

“Okay, you're really going to have to quit calling it that. There's no such thing as a kingdom of Tulsa. It's just Tulsa. Like Rome is just Rome, not the kingdom of Rome.”

Venus scoffed. “Try telling those obsessively patriotic ancient Romans they're not a kingdom.”

“Point taken. I used a bad example. Here's the thing—you can be eccentric and different here—that's fine. You're incredibly beautiful—”

“Why thank you darling!” Venus interrupted.

“I'm just stating the truth. Anyway, you can get away with being…well…what modern mortals will consider weird because of your beauty.”

“Weird? I am not weird.”

“By Athena's widening ass you certainly are!” Persephone said, mimicking her friend's voice and using one of her all-time favorite curses.

Venus's violet eyes sparkled. “Athena's ass is getting big. Come on. Admit it. She's become far too serious! All, ‘Look at me! I'm the gray-eyed Goddess of War, Wisdom and the Arts.'” She exaggerated a yawn. “She needs to loosen up and in more ways than one. A few stretching exercises and a good jog would help her out as much as taking a lover or two.”

“You're incorrigible.” Persephone laughed. “And you're not going to get me off the subject that easily. You can use your genital curses. You can even get way too personal about other people's love lives. But you can't go around calling Tulsa a kingdom.”