Past Destinies. Constance Ruth Clark
clue as to how to get it done. It was like he expected her to know everything. Her annoyance and curiosity about the task kept her from giving in to her fear.
“Oh the usual way, I expect. You find the woman, introduce her to the man and let them take care of the rest,” Hades said dismissively. “Of course you’ll have the usual powers. Travel through time and space, ability to change appearance, never aging and all that. While working for me, you’ll be a goddess able to help them any way you see fit. I won’t have it said I didn’t give you a task you couldn’t complete.”
Agatha gasped in shock, grief for her lover temporarily forgotten as she tried to comprehend what he’d just said.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be able to do anything against another god, but it should help you get the job done faster. The souls could be anywhere, so you’d better get to it.” Hades waved his hand to dismiss her.
Agatha screamed as she felt herself falling through black space until she hit the ground with a jolt. Sitting up, she realized she was back in her own bed.
Well this is nice! she thought. Nothing like a pompous, arrogant, revolting…actually, the revolting part was pushing it since he’d been rather nice to look at...of all the– Not even a ‘by your leave!’
Getting out of bed she had an uncontrollable urge to seek out and bring souls together. She knew exactly who would be her first soul to mate: the local milk maid. Agatha had to see her immediately. Not bothering to check her attire, she ran outside into the bright summer sun, heading straight for the dairy barn, heedless that she was still in her nightdress.
Chapter 1
Present Day
The door swung open, smacking the wall with enough force to shake the pictures. A tall man stormed through.
“No more interviews!” Douglas Coleman told his agent firmly, staring down the man seated behind the desk.
“But Doug, the public wants to know about you!” Alan protested, jumping up and running to shut the door.
“They know all they need to know about me.” Doug ran his hand through his thick brown hair distractedly, pacing across the small office. “What more could they want?”
He hated the publicity generated by his career. The reporters, the autograph seekers, the crowds wherever he went. It was getting harder and harder to deal with. The novelty had definitely worn off, and he wanted more than anything to go back to being just a regular guy who was a damn good doctor who cared about his patients. Hell, that was the main reason he’d been forced to quit his practice. His patients had begun to take a backseat to the craziness he now called his life, and he had stepped away so they could get the care they’d deserved. He’d kept up his license because he hoped to start practicing again, but that day seemed further and further away. Doug was a man who valued privacy. Finding a reporter in his shower at the TV studio where he played a doctor in an afternoon soap was the last straw.
“All they know about you is that you’re a doctor who got top honors in medical school. What kind of information is that?” Alan pointed out. “I mean they can only make so much of you rescuing that actress.”
“Why should they want any more information?” Doug sighed, sinking into the plush chair by the window. “I really would like to keep my personal life just that. Personal.”
He knew that it really wasn’t possible anymore, much as he hated to admit it. A few years ago, he’d rescued Jessica Lynn Roberts, the hottest female celebrity of the year, from her car just before it had exploded. To thank him for saving her life she’d taken him to the Oscars, and he’d found himself pushed into the limelight as her handsome hero. A producer for her new movie had seen him and, deciding his looks passed muster, asked if he wanted to play Jessica’s doctor in the movie. Foolishly he’d thought it would be fun and had agreed. Turned out he had natural talent as an actor, so he’d been signed on for a few more movies and was currently a regular on a hit afternoon soap. He sometimes wondered if it had been worth the price.
“Look, Doug, people want to read about celebrities,” Alan said. “It keeps the paparazzi in business, taking pictures and printing stories about who you’re dating and speculating if you might be in the closet.”
“I’m not gay!” Doug said, angry at how low tabloids would sink to sell a story.
“Well, people want to know,” Alan said with a laugh. “It helps to further your career too if people think of you as a nice guy who’s not afraid of them.”
“What if I did another press release,” Doug pinched the bridge of his nose to hold off the headache he could feel behind his eyes, “telling everyone the same thing. It’s worked before.”
“I doubt that would work again.” Alan shook his head. “Reporters like to think they have the ‘scoop’ that no one else does.”
“I don’t believe this! The world doesn’t care about whether or not I’m seeing anyone!” Doug shook his head in frustration. “Why should they?”
“You’re in for a big surprise.” Alan laughed again. “That’s really all they do care about. Who you’re seeing, if it’s serious or not, things like that. That’s so women can dream about you without feeling guilty!”
Doug laughed skeptically. “Dream about me?” This was getting worse.
“Yup!” Alan chuckled.
“Look, I gotta go, I have a date with Trisha.” Doug checked his watch. “I’ll talk to you about this later.”
“Hey bud.” Alan stopped his client as he was about to walk out the door. “You’re going to have to give in, sooner or later. Why don’t I just schedule you for an interview with ET next week?”
Doug paused on his way out the door, shutting his eyes in defeat.
“Fine. Let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“Good!” Alan said, delight in his voice. “Have a good time with, ah, what was her name?”
“Trisha,” Doug said with a sigh.
“Oh yeah, Trisha,” Alan said, turning back to the mountains of paperwork on his desk. “Don’t make any drastic decisions without me.”
Doug didn’t bother to answer. Shutting the door firmly behind him, he walked out to his car with quick, angry steps. Doug berated himself the whole drive home for not standing up to Alan. He should have been firmer about not giving more interviews. He hated being in the limelight, and it baffled him why anyone would actually choose to be the center of attention. It had been fun at first, but after five years, the novelty had worn off. While he gave a good show when he had to, he’d much rather hide away at the farm his parents had left him in Vermont. Not that he’d seen it in months.
Nodding hello to his doorman as he entered his private elevator, Doug punched the button to his penthouse suite and waited for the doors to shut. He’d been thinking maybe it was time to settle down. Bite the bullet and ask Trisha to marry him. He knew she’d say yes.
Mentally sighing, he stepped off the elevator into his private foyer and unlocked his door. Tossing the keys into a bowl on the hall table, he walked through the penthouse to the kitchen where he knew he’d find Maria, his housekeeper.
“Señor Coleman!” she said with a smile. “You will eat in tonight, no?”
Doug shook his head, shooting her a crooked grin.
“No, I’ve got a date with Trisha tonight.”
Her face fell. She had made it obvious she didn’t like Trisha when the woman had stayed overnight last week. Not that Maria had ever said anything to Doug, but those betrayed looks of hers had been enough.
He couldn’t blame her. Trisha had treated Maria like her personal maid, demanding she do her laundry and cook