Venus Envy (33 page)

“Frazier, watch what you’re doing up there.”

“Well, hold the ladder.”

“I am holding the ladder but if you step off, what good’s it going to do you? Goddammit. Listen to me for once.”

“I used to change the light gels when I was in junior theater. I know everything about lights.” She reached up and unscrewed the defunct bulb. “Life’s been so hectic I keep forgetting to tell you that I’ve made you a partner in the corporation. I sent off the amended corporate report to Richmond, and Link completed the rest of the paperwork.”

Mandy dropped her hand a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. I should have told you over lunch or some significant moment, but the last of the paperwork
went out Friday and I sure didn’t want to talk about it at the Dogwood Festival. It’s been crazy. Actually, I made up my mind when I thought I was dying. I left you the company, but since I lived you’ll have to settle for a partnership.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Mandy gulped. “Do I know enough?”

“If you don’t, you will. You’re attuned to different periods than I am. I think you’ll bring a lot of money into the company and an expanded clientele. I’m happy about this.”

“Thank you.” Mandy reached back up to hold the ladder as Frazier reached into the light fixture to push back the cup, which had slipped.

A jolt seared through Frazier’s right arm. When she looked up she was flat on her back, staring into the face of Mercury. He was laughing at her.

W
HAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Frazier peered into Mercury’s smooth face. “I think I need a cigarette.”

“Thought you gave those up?” The god of communications nudged her with his winged sandal.

“What?” Frazier, befuddled and feeling highly peculiar, felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“When you lay dying, or so you thought, you promised to give up cigarettes.”

Dionysus butted in. “Don’t turn into a health fascist.” He raised his golden goblet to her, the very goblet that she’d seen sitting on the floor of her gallery.

Venus leaned over Frazier, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, honey, let me help you. You’ve had a shock.”

Frazier felt golden light suffuse every pore. She
couldn’t look the goddess full in the face; she was too beautiful.

“Hardly a shock. More of a buzz.” Jupiter studied her, his stupendous visage bemused by the sight of this beautiful but confused human.

Frazier stood up, wobbling, and Mercury slipped his strong arm around her waist. “I think I’m going crazy.” She addressed Mercury again: “How do you know me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you for some time now.” His smile, high voltage, hurt her eyes. “Do you know my family?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I told you they hadn’t forgotten us.” Neptune struck the earth with his trident in emphasis.

“Don’t do that—please, brother.” Jupiter smiled benignly on the powerful sea god, who plotted against him too many times. “Think of the San Andreas fault.”

“I’ve practiced restraint for too long,” Neptune growled. “Tokyo? Los Angeles? San Francisco? Or how about New York? That would send them into a tizz. They’re too complacent down there.”

“But here’s one who knows us.” Juno’s cool voice commanded attention.

Apollo leaned toward her, his golden curls shining like silk. “We’ve gotten together for this family portrait, Frazier, and we’ve forgotten our manners. Would you like anything to eat or drink?” He nodded and Ganymede, the cupbearer, appeared with nectar.

“Thank you.” Frazier sipped from the magnificently tooled cup as Ganymede winked at her. She felt fabulous after one sip. “What beautiful workmanship.”

“My husband.” Venus smiled in the direction of Vulcan, god of the forge.

Frazier called to Vulcan and he moved closer. “You truly are a god to create something this beautiful.”

“Oh, balls,” Diana said. “Watch this.” She slipped a silver arrow out of her quiver, put it next to the enormous bow, and aimed at a distant spot on the earth. The arrow hit the Times Square teletype on the side of the Allied building. The lights fizzled and went out. The close-up of this event then faded from the large screen Mercury had instantly supplied. “What do you think of that?”

“You’re, uh, divine.” Frazier gulped.

“Diana, don’t be so selfish. This mortal was praising my son and he gets precious little respect from the rest of you.” Juno defended her boy. As Diana and Apollo were not her children but twins sired by Jupiter on another woman, she couldn’t stand them. Nor could she stand the fact that her husband detested Vulcan just because she bore him without help from his sperm. She really did it just to get even with her husband, who said he gave birth to Athena from his brow.

“Do you know there’s a statue to you on top of Iron Mountain in Birmingham, Alabama?” Frazier innocently asked the muscular blacksmith.

“Oh, so what. Nashville’s got a statue of Athena, and Rome is full of statues to all of us. Don’t encourage him or he’ll—”

Vulcan cut off Diana. “What the hell have you ever done except run around and kill animals?”

“Don’t talk that way to my sister!” Apollo leapt up, his lyre clanging to the ground.

“You think you’re so goddam beautiful,” Vulcan spat back at him. “Well, you’ve never been lucky in love and human women even pass you up, given the choice.”

A huge row broke out, with Pluto, god of the underworld, remaining silent but keenly observing.

Frazier whispered to Mercury, whom she instantly adored: “Are they always like this?”

“What family isn’t?” He shrugged.

“Aren’t you supposed to be above all this?” Frazier innocently inquired.

Venus drew nearer to her. “Why would you want gods who couldn’t feel as you feel?” Her breath enveloped Frazier in a pleasurable cloud.

Frazier, feeling giddy, replied, “I never thought of it that way. I mean, I was taught that there was only one God and He was perfect. Humans are worms by comparison.”

“Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you read,” Mercury solemnly said. “I ought to know. After all, I am the god of communications and this is my century.”

“It’s mine,” Vulcan shouted, his brow furrowing dangerously.

“The nineteenth was yours, darling. Now you’ve got to give ground. Everyone gets a turn.” Venus smiled.

“The twentieth century is mine.” Mars smiled broadly.

Pluto spoke at last, his voice cool, stentorian, and deep: “Every century is yours, Mars. As Vulcan gives them better and better technology, they use it to kill one another. After World War Two, I had to judge fifty-five million of them. I’ve never worked so hard in my life.”

“You could have jobbed it out.” Dionysus stood up, then plopped back down on his haunches.

“That would have been irresponsible,” Pluto, who considered Dionysus a lightweight, shot back.

“I don’t see why we should be responsible when they’re not.” Neptune pointed his trident at Frazier, and a ragged rip of pure fear scared her so, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I wasn’t even born during World War Two.” Frazier tried to keep her voice from betraying her terror.

Mars stretched, his tight, gorgeous body enticing Venus, who could never rid herself of her deep attachment
to him and vice versa. Whatever the war god’s faults, he remained in love with Venus and ducked around Vulcan whenever he got the chance, but then so did Mercury. “World War Two was interesting but I liked World War One better. It was far more profound because it changed the human notion of warfare forever.”

“Not enough to keep them out of the next one,” Jupiter growled. He hated Mars as much as Juno loved her other son.

“May I have another drink, please?” Frazier’s throat was parched.

Ganymede handed her the goblet. The gods watched her imbibe the nectar.

“Don’t drink too much,” Athena counseled. “You aren’t used to it.”

“Thank you.” Frazier handed the cup back to Ganymede. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No. Why do you ask?” Jupiter observed her with veiled interest. Juno, right by his side, rarely missed a trick and he didn’t want to betray his keen physical interest in this extraordinary-looking human.

“You’re all staring at me.”

“We haven’t allowed one of your kind up here in quite some time,” Apollo answered.

“I have,” Dionysus bellowed.

“You don’t count.” Apollo waved his hand at him. “Your mother was human, so keep out of this.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass. Go ahead, torture me with logic Force me to listen to your carefully modulated songs.” Dionysus rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait to see, one more bloody time, how much better you are than me. Well”—he raised his voice—“I invented sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. What the hell have you done recently?”

“Don’t answer him.” Diana entered the argument.
“You’ll lower yourself to his level.” She observed the light. “I’m going hunting. Want to go with me?” She nudged Apollo.

“Maybe later.”

Diana glanced from Apollo to Frazier, rolled her eyes at her brother, then walked off.

Mercury touched Frazier’s hand. She nearly melted. “We’re staring at you because you’re beautiful.”

Frazier perceived Juno’s eyes narrowing, so she quickly bowed in the direction of the queen of the gods. “No human can possibly compare to the queen.” Frazier dimly recalled her mythology but she instinctively knew that if she was going to survive on Mount Olympus she’d better butter up Juno. Of course, Venus was the most beautiful goddess but Frazier, also instinctively, trusted Venus. She knew she could tell her the truth. Juno was a different matter entirely.

A slight smile played over Juno’s lips. Jupiter, appreciating Frazier’s quickness, slid his hand into his wife’s. “I am fortunate our visitor is a woman. A man would find you irresistible, my dear, and naturally I’d have to do something awful to him.” Truthfully, Jupiter would have welcomed a human competitor. In the old days he would have killed the fellow or turned him into a wart hog, but century after century of being the center of Juno’s hot attentions had worn down even his magnificent constitution. She rarely gave him a minute’s peace and if he wasn’t complimenting her or fussing over her she’d pout, feel hurt, or worse, take it out on a human. Granted, she’d had just cause with some of the women in his past but her rage could be pure evil.

Unfortunately, Juno was ruthlessly faithful and Jupiter felt more trapped by his wife as the centuries piled up.

Juno affectionately put her arm around her husband’s massive shoulders.

Venus turned her head to giggle and Mercury pinched her to stop. He knew as far as Juno was concerned that if Momma ain’t happy, nobody’s happy, to borrow a phrase.

“Do we have any business left?” Neptune asked.

“No.” Jupiter held his hands palms upward. “Unless someone else has something to say.”

“What do we do with her?” Apollo eyed Frazier greedily.

“Oh, I’ll take care of her.” Mercury stepped beside Frazier.

“I bet you will,” Apollo muttered.

“Perhaps the lady would like to decide for herself.” Jupiter shifted his weight and again felt his wife’s arm around his shoulders.

“I’d like to go home,” Frazier said.

“Consider this a vacation. You’ll go home soon enough.” Jupiter smiled.

Frazier realized that if she couldn’t go home she’d better watch her step. She’d seen enough jealousy and spite to get her antennae up. “If that’s the case, perhaps I should stay somewhere by myself. I just dropped in unexpectedly, sort of, and I don’t want to put anyone to trouble.”

“You’re no trouble.” Mercury seduced her with his merry eyes.

“No, but you are.” Apollo stepped toward Mercury.

“Gentlemen and ladies, gods, I mean, your divinities …” Frazier stumbled. “Perhaps I should go home with a goddess.”

“Come home with me.” Venus moved toward her.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire.” Apollo, disappointed, turned on his heel and left.

F
RAZIER EXPECTED A FLIGHT TO A GREEK ISLAND OR PERHAPS
the Temple of Aphrodite at Knidos in Turkey. She was quite surprised when after a short walk she and her hostess came upon Sans Souci.

“But this is in Potsdam, Germany?” Frazier was ferociously confused.

“No, Frederick the Great got the idea from me. Usually when you find a residence of surpassing beauty, I was the source of inspiration. Think of Rastrelli’s fountains at the Peterhof just outside St. Petersburg. I create beauty in all things”—she paused and slid her forefinger up Frazier’s arm—“and you are one of mine, although your temperament needs work.”

“My mother says that too,” Frazier replied ruefully.

Venus led her to a graceful, understated room at the rear of the palace overlooking the rose garden. “You’ll be comfortable here. Would you like anything?”

Frazier wanted to say “You,” but thought better of it. Could humans proposition goddesses and gods?

“How did I get here?”

Venus’s clear eyes softened. She ran her long fingers through Frazier’s blond hair. “Accept what you cannot understand.”

“Well, can you tell me why you don’t visit us anymore?” Frazier’s temples burned with desire.

“Boredom. Humans used to live in red and gold, green and silver. Now they indulge in gray little pleasures. They’ve surrendered joy to reason, and reason is a pathetic little god. Even Apollo loses his reason sometimes—usually over a woman, or occasionally a young man.”

“I think I offended him.”

The goddess’s silver laughter filled the room. “Offended him? You turned him on.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Frazier was immensely flattered, although Apollo was not her type. “How is it you speak English?”

“We can speak any language. We invented them.”

“Oh.” Frazier folded her hands together. “I guess the human race has become dull. I know I have.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Her smile was blinding.

A thin blade of sweat ran between Frazier’s breasts. She struggled to breathe. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“And what was that?” Venus reclined on a Madame Récamier lounge. She patted the plush upholstery, indicating that Frazier should sit next to her.