Silver Linings, стр. 46
Mattie turned her head to follow his glance. Her stomach clenched with a sick feeling that could only be jealousy. She fought to control it. “That,” she told Flynn, “is Hugh Abbott. Ariel was once engaged to him.”
“Oh, yeah. The guy from her Elemental period, right?”
“Right.”
“That was really a dead-end direction for her,” Flynn said, dismissing Hugh with ease.
“Yes, I thought the same thing at the time.” Mattie watched her sister descend like a queen on the gathering.
Ariel was especially striking tonight. But, then, her sister always looked dramatic. Her lustrous black hair, translucent white skin, and exotic green eyes lent themselves quite naturally to drama of all kinds.
Ariel applied the same intuitive sense of design to her clothes as she did to her art. She had favored black for years, ever since her Early Dark period. It still suited her, although her painting had become much more colorful. Tonight she was riveting in a totally black strapless gown and black high-heeled sandals.
Her jewelry consisted of only a pair of jet earrings that dangled to her shoulders. Her sleek black hair was parted in the middle and worn in a shining wedge that gave her finely chiseled features the air of an Egyptian princess.
The only touches of color on Ariel were her scarlet mouth and her startling green eyes.
Mattie thought wistfully of the little red satin sarong she had brought back with her from the islands. It would have made quite a splash here tonight. But, of course, it would have been totally inappropriate, she told herself firmly. The conservative gray business suit and pastel silk blouse she had on was what she always wore to this sort of function. Only the artist was supposed to look exotic or outrageous.
She saw Hugh scanning the room with an impatient glance. He was wearing the one jacket he owned, a rather battered-looking navy blue blazer over a white shirt and his usual pair of jeans. He also had on his boots. There was no tie.
His eyes met hers, and she smiled wryly. He started toward her, leaving Ariel amid a circle of admires.
“How well do you know this guy?” Flynn asked, helping himself to another canapé.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because he looks annoyed.”
“That's his usual expression.” Mattie locked her smile in place as Hugh came to a halt in front of her and glanced pointedly at Flynn.
“Hello, Hugh,” Mattie said. “I don't believe you've met Flynn Grafton. A wonderful artist. He married Ariel about six months ago.”
Hugh nodded brusquely and shook the hand Flynn offered. “Congratulations,” he said crisply.
“Thanks. I hear you're the guy from Ariel's Elemental period.”
Hugh's expression got darker. “That's not exactly how I think of it.”
“Hey, don't be embarrassed. I can see why you wouldn't want to be associated with that particular time frame in her work. I mean, we all know it was a useless digression when taken in the total context of her art, but the stuff she did during that period is very collectible. People are paying a fortune for it simply because it was such an odd detour, professionally speaking.”
“Is that right?” Hugh muttered.
“Personally, I've always kind of liked some of the stuff from that period. There's a certain rough-edged, primitive quality to it. Rather like early Ashton or Clyde Harding.”
Hugh's mouth was a humorless line. “Look, do you mind if I talk to Mattie for a few minutes? In private?”
“No, no, take your time,” Flynn said. “I'll see how Ariel's doing. Talk to you later, Mattie.”
“Fine.” Mattie took a sip of her champagne and watched Flynn saunter away through the crowd.
“All right, spit it out.” Hugh grabbed a plastic glass from a passing tray.
“Spit what out?” Mattie asked politely.
“You want to know why I'm late and why I arrived with Ariel.” Hugh swallowed most of the contents of the glass in one gulp.
“I do?”
“The answers are that, A, the meeting with Charlotte ran late and, B, Ariel was just getting out of a cab in front of this joint when I arrived. I couldn't avoid walking in with her.”
“I see.”
“Good.” Apparently considering the subject closed, Hugh glowered down at her. “Now, what's with you and Grafton?”
Mattie glanced up in astonishment. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“He was looking at you the way a dog looks at a bone. Real intense.”
Mattie shrugged. “He's an artist. Artists are always intense in one way or another. He wants me to look at some of his work. I said I would. That's all there was to it. What did you and Charlotte decide?”
Hugh frowned, looking as if he wanted to pursue the topic of Flynn Grafton. But he reluctantly altered course. “Everything's swell, just like I told you. She's happy to keep me on the payroll and says I can work here at the home office for as long as I want. Won't have to travel.”
“What are you going to do here at headquarters?”
“She wants a new security plan worked up that can be implemented at all the Vailcourt offices around the world. I told her no problem.”
“And how long will you be happy doing that, Hugh? I see you as a field man, not an office type.”
“The experience will be good for me,” he told her. “The more I learn about the business end of running a corporation, the better.”
“Because you plan to go back to St. Gabriel to run Abbott Charters eventually, don't you? Admit it. You see this Seattle jaunt as just a short hiatus you have to tolerate until I come to my senses and see the light, right?”
“Forget Abbott Charters and forget St. Gabe. I don't feel like arguing right now. Who's this heading our way?”
Mattie looked across the room and heaved a small sigh. “It never rains but it pours.”
“What's that mean?”
“Just that there's quite a crowd of Ariel's exes here tonight. That's Ariel's first husband, Emery Blackwell.