THE LAST customer of the day was slowly leaving. Phoebe reached down to pet her dog, Ace, and moved to close up shop. Since graduating high school, she had worked in fairs across the country as a fortune teller, saving money. She did not know why, but when she touched somebody’s hand, she could read their thoughts. Although she could not divine their future, she could make educated guesses that were enough to bring customers back. After saving enough money, she had finally opened up her own shop.
Removing the scarf from around her hair, Phoebe let her red curls cascade along her shoulders. Ace sniffed at some of his dog food while she reached over to grab her purse. Before she could close up, a knock at the door surprised her. In front of the door, she saw one of the most gorgeous men she had ever laid eyes on. Curious, she opened the door and let him in.
“Hello! How can I help you, Mr…?” She paused and waited for him to respond.
“My name is Apollo Mikos. Pleasure to meet you, Phoebe Williams.” The blonde-haired man reached for her hand and shook it. Instantly, a vision arose before her eyes of Apollo and her rolling around in bed sheets. Waves crashed outside the window—a storm was brewing. As the vision of Apollo entered her body forcefully, Phoebe pulled her hand back. The vision went away, but it left a slight blush on Phoebe’s cheeks. Reading the minds of other people was occasionally embarrassing and often felt like a major invasion of privacy. Still, she found herself wishing that she could have held his hand a little longer to see where these thoughts took her.
Motioning toward the table and chairs reserved for clients, she asked if he wanted to sit down. Apollo just shook his head.
“I need your help with something, but not like that.” He shrugged his shoulders. Tall and well-built, Apollo had blue eyes and chiseled features. He wore a dark black suit that made all of his muscles ripple beneath the fabric.
Confused, Phoebe looked over at him. “What do you mean?”
Sighing, Apollo looked into her eyes. “You will probably want to sit down for this.” Still uncertain, Phoebe sat down and waited for him to speak again.
Gazing out the window, Apollo framed his thoughts. “I know your mother, Rhea. I also know what you really are and I need your help.”
Phoebe was aghast. “What do you mean? I don’t have a mother. I grew up in foster care after my mother left me there when I was two.”