Zeus (The God Chronicles #1)

Chapter Eight

I awoke the next morning in my own bed, cuddled into the covers with a stupid grin on my face. I was kind of amazed at the wonderful time I'd had. Zeus had shown me the rest of the gallery, stopping at each work to explain it in detail. I had wondered at how he obtained his vast knowledge of art. My smile grew as I remembered the tight way he'd held onto my hand the rest of the night, gripping it tightly and never letting go until he brought me home.

And that was it. When it was time for our date to end and we were back at the apartment, he walked me to the door, wished me a goodnight and left. No kiss or anything. It had been somewhat shocking, especially after he'd pretty much asked me to sleep with him the very first time we'd met.

I sighed, feeling content. I was sure he would call soon. I'd given him my number on the car ride home, more than happy to go out again. If he'd gone through so much trouble for a first date, he'd want a second, right?

I stayed in bed for a little while longer, until I absolutely had to get up and get ready. I laughed when I caught myself already checking my phone for messages.

Overall, the day went quickly, but I couldn't stop checking my phone. I shouldn't have been so excited to get a call from the man who had tormented me my first couple of days here, but I couldn't help it. He had really improved his image on our date. It meant something that he had catered to what I loved, instead of being merely some lame first date that any girl could have enjoyed. The fact that he'd even refrained from kissing me goodnight had also impressed me. It made me feel like he really wanted to get to know me and was trying to make up for being inappropriate before.

By the time I got home, he still hadn't called. I was beginning to feel obsessive. Putting the phone down was hard, but I did it. I spent the night adding another coat to the latest layer on my painting and went to bed discouraged.

If I'd known I would follow that basic pattern for the next two weeks, I would have never gone on the date in the first place. He never called. Every night I would work on my painting, do homework, call my mom, or whatever else I could think of. I wasn't moping because he hadn't called—I was fighting the urge to go down to his precious resort and punch him right in the nose. I felt like I'd been played, like this was his way of getting back at me.

Finally, I decided to go down there. He wasn't going to have this power over me. I didn't want him ruling my emotions. He was going to find out exactly what he had missed out on by letting me get away.

I slipped into my tennis shoes and headed for my car. I took the roads parallel to the Strip in order to avoid traffic. Rehearsing in my head what I would say to him, I pulled into the front entrance of Tartarus.

"Leave it here," I snapped at the valet. "I won't be long. If you've got a problem with it, then you can take it up with Zeus—I'm here to see him." The poor valet appeared shocked, but nodded his head and started waving the other cars and cabs around mine.

I stormed into the front lobby, which closely resembled the casino except there was a large front desk instead of slot machines.

"Where is Zeus's office?" The girl standing behind the counter jumped at my demand. She pointed towards a pair of closed, dark-brown doors, off to the left side of her station. She looked just as stunned as the valet had been, but didn't argue either. For that I was grateful—I already felt bad for yelling at both of them. If someone slowed me down before I got there, though, I wouldn't be able to go in and deliver my rant.

Making a beeline for the doors, I took in a couple deep breaths, my hands forming fists at my side. Angry tears were trying to form, but I pushed them back down. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.