Warrior Rising (Goddess Summoning #6)(4)



“A reward for the mortal sounds fine to me,” Hera said while Athena glowered at Venus. “Why not grant her one boon? A favor from the Goddess of Love should satisfy any mortal, modern or otherwise.”

“Excellent idea, Hera.” Venus smiled impishly at Athena.

“I think it sounds like a good plan,” Hera said.

“Yes, we are all in agreement,” Athena said, although a little reluctantly.

Hera raised her glass. “To the modernizing of Achilles and the end of the wretched Trojan War.”

“And,” Venus added with a smile, “to modern women.”

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

"The Iliad? Did I hear you right? You’re reading that misogynistic mess?” Jacqueline said as she searched through the pantry’s colorful collection of red wine for another Shiraz to open.

“Are you having trouble sleeping? When I was in college Homer was a surefire remedy for insomnia,” Kat said. “Jacky, if you’re looking for another bottle of the Coppola Shiraz, it’s still in the bag I left by the door.”

“As usual you read my mind, Kat,” Jacqueline called over her shoulder as she headed for the foyer of the chic home, doing a little impromptu shimmy in the full-length vintage beveled mirror that hung by the front door.

Laughing, Kat called after her. “Shake that thang, baby!”

Jacqueline snagged the bottle of Shiraz and shimmied back to the group.

“I do wish I could move like that,” Kat said.

“Kat, honey, I love you, but y’all white girls do not have enough junk in your trunk to move like me. I am luscious.” Jacqueline dragged the word out with a sexy purr as she ran her hands down her voluptuous body and made kissing noises at her best friend. Grinning, she disappeared into the kitchen to open the bottle and called, “So what were we saying?”

“We were talking about poor dead Susie having to read the wretched Iliad.” Kat winked at “poor dead Susie.”

“Remind us, just exactly why are you suffering through reading that thing?”

Susie, who owned the fabulous 1920’s era home the group of friends met at twice a month for their girls’ night in, gave a long-suffering sigh and threw her hands up in frustration. “First, Katrina,” she used Kat’s full name in a very you’ve-been-bad-young-lady tone, “I’m not dead; I’m in college, so I only feel dead. Second, I’m reading the f*cking Iliad because it is required reading by the * chauvinist professor in the third to last f*cking class I have to finish before I am able to graduate and, finally, at the totally ridiculous age of forty-eight, get my damnable BA.”

“Okay, tell us all again why a woman who is so incredibly successful that the utterly fab boutique that she started as a tiny women’s accessory store in a not-so-good part of Tulsa and is now located smack in the middle of totally posh Utica Square, as well as the Galleria in Dallas, the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, and delicious downtown Denver, feels like she has to get a piece of paper that says she’s smart?” Kat said between sips from her tall, frosty champagne-filled flute.

“No shit.” Christy raised her red wine balloon glass. “I second that.”

“I’ll third it.” Heather raised her glass, then frowned at it. “And may I just say one more time that I will be so incredibly, amazingly, inexorably glad when I can get off this bubbly grape juice stuff and back to an excellent chardonnay that I may just pee myself with pleasure—or, perhaps, treat all of us to a boozy party. Heavy on the boozy part.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kat said. “The party part, not the peeing part.”

“It’s just one more month. And you don’t want to pickle that baby,” Christy said, reaching over and patting Heather’s very pregnant belly.

“I know, but I’m dying for a glass of wine!”

“Focus guys! We were sympathizing with Susie about the horrid essay she has to write over the wretched Iliad,” Jacqueline reminded them.

“And I was saying that I don’t think she needs a piece of paper to show she’s ‘smart’ when she’s already amazingly successful,” Kat said.

“Easily said by a woman with a masters in psych,” Susie said and then hurried on before Kat could interrupt her. “Actually, every last one of you has that meaningless piece of paper—or a couple of them. Right?” She pointed first at Jacqueline, “Ms. ER Nurse, you have a bachelor of science.” Then at Heather, “You have a masters in education, don’t you?”

“Guilty,” Heather said.

“Christy, you have a BS in physical fitness, don’t you?”

“Yep, but if you want honesty I’ll tell you that I kick ass as a personal trainer because of my gym experience and not because my parents insisted I go to college way back when.”

“Okay, I get that, but can you guys not see the common theme here? College is part of your success. Christy could probably still be a trainer without her degree, but Kat and Jacqueline could definitely not do their jobs without those pieces of paper and the knowledge they gained getting them. Right?”

Kat and Jacky nodded reluctantly.

“And Heather, you couldn’t teach without the BS that came before getting your masters. Right?”

Heather sighed and patted her pregnant belly. “Right, but today not having to teach and not being on my swollen feet while I scream at high school students as my ankles continue to balloon would be a lovely thing.”

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