A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3) by Tina Folsom, Cynthia Cooke Page B

floor when he noticed his bare feet again. Right, he needed his sandals.
    Hermes rushed upstairs and opened the door to his room, his eyes instantly falling onto the spot next to the bed, where he kept his sandals—only, the spot was empty. Maybe he’d accidentally pushed them under the bed. He bent down to look underneath it, but saw nothing except for a layer of dust that had accumulated there.
    Hermes rose, searching his room more thoroughly now. His sandals had to be somewhere. He remembered that he’d still been wearing them when he and Penny were out near the fountain. She’d been the only one taking her shoes off then. He hadn’t gone into the water, he was sure of it.
    Nevertheless, he walked out onto the balcony and looked down at the fountain, then perused the balcony. Nothing.
    His sandals were gone.
     

13
     
    Penny’s heart was pounding, her head swimming. What had she done? She still couldn’t believe it, but she’d taken Hermes’ sandals.
    No, not taken. Only borrowed, she corrected herself.
    When she’d woken to go to the bathroom, she’d tripped over them—actually had almost fallen as a result. She’d picked them up and taken them with her into the bathroom to study them in the light. They were magnificent. She’d just wanted to take a closer look. Much closer, like under her microscope. But her office was across town from the B&B and it had taken her longer to get there than she’d anticipated. She’d thought she could simply take a quick look at the sandals, and then get them back before Hermes even noticed they were gone.
    But it hadn’t worked out that way. Examining them had taken her much longer than she’d thought it would. And she still wasn’t done.
    She’d told herself that even if Hermes woke while she was gone, chances were he would take a shower first, and maybe even have breakfast before he noticed that his shoes were missing. She would have plenty of time to get them back. Right?
    Wrong. She was an idiot. A fool.
    Because once she’d started examining them, she’d become fascinated. A thought had popped into her head: what if these sandals were the answer to her prayers? What if they could help her gain tenure and thus save her job?
    The sandals were so much more than magnificent. They seemed to be old, the leather worn, yet firm. And the wings looked like they weren’t just colored golden, but gold-plated, if not solid gold. If that was indeed the case, they had to be worth thousands. She didn’t even know how Hermes could wear such valuable items without constantly worrying about damaging them. It was as if the wings were actually made of feathers dipped in gold. Each tiny delicate fiber moved on its own. She was terrified of breaking them. How could he wear them, day in and day out, in the rain and everywhere else without damaging them?
    She wished she had time to do the tests it took to determine how old they were. They were better than any replicas she’d ever seen. She glanced at the clock on her desk. Oh, God no! Too much time had gone by already. She had to get them back to him now. But one last thing: she still hadn’t taken any pictures, when she should have taken care of that task first.
    Penny ran into her outer office, grabbed her camera, and hurried back, but before she could take her first shot, her door opened. Her head shot up. She was annoyed with herself that she’d forgotten to close the doors between the offices. She fully expected to see Hermes standing there, fury reddening his face. Guilt surged through her, an apology already on her lips, but it wasn’t Hermes who’d entered, but Kenton.
    “Kenton? What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised to see him. He never came to her office. In fact, he barely spoke to her at all.
    He ran his eyes over her dress, making her all too aware that she was still wearing the same dress she’d worn to the party the previous night. She could only imagine what impression she was giving off.
    Kenton