Neither could Media to be honest. Under normal circumstances she would have been flattered that he’d catered to one of her fabricated images – but circumstances weren’t normal. Since the dinner out with Guns, the mis-information Goddess had spent her days knee-deep in old mythological texts. Seeing that Radio was back in town had come as something of a relief. At least, his arrival provided the perfect excuse for leaving her self-imposed hermitage. And if drinks went well she might just have someone to dump the onerous chore of fact finding on – he was always better at it than she was. Media had just set down the eyelash curler when he knocked the first time. Slipping her feet into a pair of black heels, the goddess double checked her image in the hall mirror. Perfect for a night out with an old friend – the black miniskirt was dangerously short while the white blouse was a conservative button down in clingy silk. The red belt cinched around her waist offset everything perfectly and she gave herself a moment to preen before unlocking the door.
“Radio, sweetheart, right on time,” she stepped out of the doorway to allow her on again, off again lover to enter. He did look good in the suit, although her fingers itched to smooth it. She suppressed the urge. Touching him now would make it more challenging to leave on time. After drinks, if she hadn’t successfully persuaded him, she could invite him back. “Can I offer you a bite to eat before we go? I have some baklava in the fridge.”