Philotes beamed. And not just because he had reason to consider women as equals instead of looking down on them. And not just because he actually tried to answer everything she said, when most people did their best to just pick up the important parts when her mouth ran off like that. No, it was more. He was complimenting her new baby.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Faster, actually, since I did a little tweaking. Really, the hollow axle and the new alloy wheels? Make it so much lighter it was really easy to get it up to 90 miles an hour without even trying. I've been making a few modifications to the fuel-air mix, playing with the carburetors.”
She moved around to the side of the car, unlatching the panels on the side of the hood to lift them and expose the inner workings of the engine. She'd just closed it a few minutes ago, but she sort of wanted to show off a bit. One hand held open the panel, the other pointed at the spot she wanted him to look at. “And see here? See how I've tweaked the throttle? I'm thinking that's going to get me a few more miles per hour on this run.” Lottie gave him a grin, sure that somebody that immediately recognized her car would appreciate what she was about to tell him. “I got up to 110 this last time. It was brilliant!”
She gestured for him to come closer and get a good look. It was a courtesy she extended, hoping that he'd do the same in a few minutes, because she was dying to get a look at his bike. “I'm Philotes. Did I already say that? I think so. I'm sorry, I sort of babble when I'm excited. Or nervous. Or happy, or sad, or anxious, or it's Tuesday.” She smiled. “Feel free to tell me to shut up.”
Other people didn't hesitate, but he seemed like a nice guy. There had been the whole blushing thing. The only other god she'd ever met that blushed that easily was her nephew, but she wasn't about to tell Kratos how often he did it. Lottie wondered how a Norse god was handling the heat, since they came from such a cold climate. She wondered what he meant when he said he lived with a bunch of Valkyries. Like roommates? His name sounded like Hermes', she wondered if they'd ever met. She wondered what it was that he was god of. But what she wondered about most of all was what she asked next, “You got an Indian. Why not a Harley Davidson? I heard they're faster.”