We stared at each other for a beat, swishing our arms through the clear blue water. Sara swam over and bobbed beside us.
“So, did you set the date?” She asked.
I widened my eyes and splashed her. She shrieked, paddling away with one hand while covering her head with the other.
We spent the rest of the day swimming through the canal, letting ourselves dry off on the rocks and diving back in when we got too hot. Several times, Hades remained on the rocks, just watching us. He wasn’t kidding when he said he despised the water, but boy did the water not despise him. It left little to the imagination, clinging the boxers to his legs. And they could write poems on the way it made his abdominal muscles sparkle.
The sun started to set, and Hades insisted we stay for dessert. We found a small café, and Hades ordered something called Sykomaïtha.
“You’ll both love it. It’s a fig-based cake. Corfu staple,” Hades said.
I sat next to him with Sara across from us. She had one elbow propped up and her chin resting in her hand.
“Are you Greek by descent?” Sara asked Hades.
“Yes.”
“How’d you end up with a southern accent?”
Hades leaned back and rested one arm on the back of his chair. He pursed his lips, making the dimple in his cheek more prominent. “Greek descent, American born. Georgia, to be exact.”
“Uh, huh. And what is it you do in Georgia?”
I dropped my face in my hands. She was interrogating him. It was more terrifying than watching her interview charged murderers.
“I don’t live in Georgia anymore. I mostly work from home.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Doing?”
“Odds and ends. I take the jobs as they come. Sometimes with either of my brothers.”
“Two brothers? Where do you fall in the order?”
“Oldest.”
She shifted in her seat. “And your middle brother’s name?”
“We call him Simon.” He narrowed his eyes.
It was like watching a tennis match.
“Dogs or cats?”
“Dogs. Definitely dogs.”
She grinned from ear-to-ear. “Okay, I like him, Steph.”
“Oh, come on, Sammy isn’t that bad,” I quipped.
Hades cocked an eyebrow.
“Her pet cat,” Sara said. “And you’re right, as far as cats go, he isn’t that bad, but give me a day of playing fetch and excited jumping when I come home any day of the week.”
The waiter walked up with our order just in the nick of time.
“Oh, look! Food’s here,” I yelped, grabbing my fork.
The waiter placed a plate lined with large green fig leaves, and a glazed brown patty between us.
“This is supposed to be delicious?” Sara asked with a quirk of a brow.
I dug my fork in. “What happened to your sense of adventure?”
I glanced at Hades from the corner of my eye. He beamed at me, showing that dimple again. He watched me as I took the first bite. It was sweet, nutty, and a tad spicy. Overlapping flavors I wasn’t expecting.
“Oh, wow. This is different.”
Sara dug in next and ran her pinky under her lower lip, scraping away the crumbs. “No kidding. It seriously looked like a cow patty. This is delicious.”
Hades reached past me for his portion. “Told ya.”
We spent the next hour finishing our savory fig cake and talking. Hades did his quick smoke trick several more times, mostly because I think he didn’t want me to forget who he was regardless of how normal the conversation seemed. And…I liked it. Thankfully, Sara steered away from more questions about Hades and focused more on telling embarrassing stories about me. Ironically, those stories were far less stressful than worrying about how Hades would answer questions like: What were your parents like growing up? What’s your favorite pastime? Or, who’s your favorite sports team?
The cab ride back to the resort was different. Sara seemed more relaxed and didn’t look at Hades like he would flip his lid at any given moment. We stood in the lobby after the cab dropped us off. The night sky had rolled in. Except for the hanging sconces, the only other light source came from the moon.
Sara yawned as she walked away. “I’ll meet you back at the room, Steph.”
“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” Hades said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
“Dinner, huh?” I sheepishly smiled.
“It’ll give us a chance to talk alone. I’m sure you have a lot of questions I couldn’t answer fully around your friend.”
“Yeah, about that. You’ve never tried to hide who you are around me, but you did with Sara. I mean, Simon? Who even is that?” I laughed.
“Poseidon.” He smirked. “It was the first name I could think of on short notice. And I played the part with Sara because I can tell it’s important to ya.”
“I don’t know. It’s also kind of exhilarating hearing you talk about it so candidly.” I smiled and kicked an imaginary pebble.
“Stephanie Costas has a courageous side. I’ll remember that.”
“I’d like to have dinner with you. As long as your offer includes a glass of wine, I’m in.”
“I’ll make it an entire bottle if it helps you.”
The spark in his gaze made me forget for a brief moment what he was. Maybe it truly was possible to see past it.
“I should get going. I’m sure Sara’s lurking around the corner spying on us anyway.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
“Night.”
I may not have felt the urge to marry him after swimming through the Canal d’amour, but one thing was certain…I felt something.
I felt a responsibility now to keep his secret. I was Lois Lane, and he was Superman. And just like Lois, if I were to tell anyone I knew the god of the Underworld, they wouldn’t believe me anyway. It killed me inside, not telling Sara. We told each other everything. Sometimes a little too much. As much crazy crap as she’d seen, I knew this would be something beyond her out-of-the-box thinking.
The only other dress I had with me aside from the one I bought for the ball was reserved for the dancing contest. Sara let me borrow one of her little black dresses. She laughed, stating Hades and I would match, guaranteed. She knew about the contest from yesterday, but I left out the small detail of it being a Valentine’s Day couples only dance. It was only a matter of time she’d figure it out on her own once she realized the date it fell on.
Hades insisted we meet at the Greek restaurant at the resort. Odd, there was only one considering we were in Greece. I asked for the farthest table away from everyone else so we wouldn’t need to have an entire conversation in whispers. The restaurant bustled with dozens of conversations. Forks clanked on plates, laughter, and Byzantine ambient music played over the speakers. The fake candles on every table provided dim lighting.
It was hard not to notice when Hades walked in. He wore black dress pants and a long-sleeved button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He squinted like Clint Eastwood when he first entered, peering at the maître d’ through strands of hair. Women turned to stare at him as he passed, whether they had company or not.
Had they been doing that at the bar and I didn’t notice?