Aphrodite's War Read Free Page A

lips. Poetry reached for a green bingo dauber, but changed
her mind. Red. Today felt like a red day. She gave the bottle a good shake
and began striping her bleached bangs with it.
    She chose a braided chain with sculpted silver daisies dangling at
various lengths with pearly beads to represent baby’s breath; one of her
most feminine necklaces. After adorning her neck, she owned her style
with an appraisal in the mirror.
    The familiar padding of tiny paws on the linoleum announced Amir.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Rowr.”
“I think so too,” Poetry said, placing her hands on her hips and
striking a haughty stance. “Kevin who?”
“Ready!” She meandered to the kitchen with Amir trotting behind.
“How do I look?”
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Jenny asked. “You have other clothes,
you know.”
“You think the guys at the Rosemount won’t like it?”
Jenny shook her head, but her lips betrayed her humor. “More for
me.”
Poetry gave Jenny’s arm a swipe. “Nice.”
“Nice, nothing. You can borrow my patent pumps. At least you’ll
somewhat resemble a lady that way.”
“Whatever,” Poetry said, covering her cat with kisses. “Give Amir
lovins before we go.”
Jenny took him from her arms while Poetry searched for shoes that
matched.
    Time to have some fun. No more sitting at home feeling sorry for
herself. This would be the first night of the rest of her life, and Poetry
intended to make it a good one.
CHAPTER THREE
    Poetry stifled a groan. She’d envisioned a local hangout where coworkers and friends shared a few quick brews over a game of darts. This
place featured a lacquered bar with polished chrome stools and the scent
of genuine leather chairs permeated the air. The work of a painter she
didn’t recognize decorated the walls in black and red.
At least she matched.
    How much would a beer cost in a pub like this? She cringed. Maybe
she shouldn’t order beer. Not fancy enough. The men were strictly suit
and tie. Not a hockey jersey in sight. The women…well, needless to say
Poetry felt underdressed and over-pierced. People stared. Her favorite
little black number suddenly looked too cheap and showed too much ink.
She leaned toward Jenny’s ear. “You could have warned me.”
“I did,” Jenny’s tone was insistent. “I told you not to wear that,
remember?”
Poetry cursed inwardly. She’d taken the comment as a ribbing.
    “Check it out.” Jenny motioned to the corner next to the patio with
her chin. Bright sunlight poured in from patio doors, showcasing three
men and an older woman.
    The woman had obviously had more than she could handle. She
pawed at a guy with a brown brush cut and biceps that strained the
sleeves of his jacket. The lady’s voice carried throughout the room,
announcing her interest. Poetry was embarrassed, even if she wasn’t.
    Jenny marched straight for her.
Oh God, what’s she going to do?
    “Hi, honey,” she said with a wave. Who was she talking to? Poetry’s
jaw dropped when Jenny leaned over to Mr. Biceps and pecked him on
the lips. “Sorry I’m late. Is this woman bothering you?”
She didn’t.
    The cougar glared at Jenny. Her gaze drifted to Poetry with the tattoos
crawling down her shoulders and arms. Apparently not liking the looks
of them, the woman excused herself in a hiss.
When her rival was out of earshot Jenny flashed a charming smile at
Mr. Biceps again.
“I always wondered if that would work. I’m Jenny.”
Poetry clenched her teeth in a phony smile. Only Jenny possessed that
kind of nerve.
    “Well, Jenny.” The jock motioned to the now empty spot. “I’m Gary.
Why don’t you and your friend have a seat? You never know…She might
come back, right?”
    A barmaid came forward and took their order. Poetry followed Jenny’s
lead and ordered a vodka-Seven. She squirmed in her creaking chair as
introductions were made.
“This is my roommate, Poetry,” Jenny said with a vague sweep of her
hand. “We work