Silver Linings, стр. 69

Ariel froze, an expression of shock on her face. “Oh, Lord, you're right of course. You're absolutely right.”

Mattie examined her fingernails for a long moment. They were blunt, neatly curved nails with no polish on them. “You want advice? I'll give it to you for what it's worth. From what I know about Flynn, I would say that underneath that trendy facade, he's really a decent, old-fashioned guy who needs to feel he's doing the right thing as a man. So let him do it. Tell him about the baby. Encourage him to go ahead with his more commercial style of painting. Let him know you respect him as a man, not just as an artist, and that you need him. Let him feel he's holding up his end of the marriage.”

“I'm afraid he'll be seduced by success,” Ariel whispered.

“What's wrong with that? What's wrong with finding out he can do stuff that will sell like hotcakes? I think it's what he really wants, Ariel, so stop trying to force him into a different mold.”

“But, Mattie—”

“These days a lot of artists are beginning to be a lot more personally ambitious again. They want success in their lifetimes, not posthumously. It hasn't been fashionable to be artistically ambitious for the past hundred years or so, but things are changing. Very soon it's going to be just like the old days, the way it was before somebody got the notion that the only good art was art nobody understood.”

A sound in the doorway made Mattie glance up. Shock Value Frederickson stood there, her hair tinted silver and black. She was holding a large metal object in her arms that was very nearly as large as she was.

Mattie smiled slowly. “Speaking of great art. Lord love us, Shock Value, what have you got there?”

Shock Value glanced diffidently at Ariel. “Am I interrupting anything? Suzanne out front said you weren't busy in here.”

Mattie was already out of her chair, circling the desk for a better look at the metal sculpture Shock Value was holding. “You can interrupt me anytime as long as you've got something like this in your hot little hands. This is fantastic, Shock. Absolutely fantastic.”

Shock Value grinned, looking enormously relieved. “I'm calling it On the Brink. You really like it?”

“I love it. I always knew you had talent, Shock, but this is unbelievable. Take a look at this, Ariel.” Mattie took the soaring, powerfully worked metal from the artist's hands and placed it on the floor in front of her desk.

Ariel studied the piece thoughtfully. “You're right, Mattie. It's really something. Very strong stuff. You're going to display it here in Sharpe Reaction?”

“You bet I am, so that Shock gets the public exposure. But it's not for sale. As of this moment this piece is mine, all mine. Let's make a deal, Shock.”

Shock Value smiled. “Mattie, you can have it for free. I owe you. A lot, I think. I don't even remember how much.”

“You don't owe me this much,” Mattie assured her. “If you won't put a price tag on it, I will. Sit down while I write up a bill of sale.”

Shock Value took a seat. “I'm really sort of relieved that it's okay. I wasn't sure what I was doing. You know, I think it would be a good idea for me to get away from the city for a while. Too many distractions, you know? I think I need a change of environment. I need to go somewhere and refresh myself while I work out this new direction in my style.”

Mattie glanced up from the paperwork. “You really think so?”

Shock Value nodded quickly. “I turned a corner when I started working on Brink. I could feel it. I need to focus this new energy. I don't want to work in isolation, but I really think I have to get away from the city. Someplace quiet and sort of inspirational, if you know what I mean.”

“Someplace where they don't sell colored hair gel and metal-studded leather pants?” Ariel asked with a little smile.

“I guess,” Shock Value admitted. “But a nice place.”

“Some place like a tropical island, perhaps?” Mattie said slowly.

“Man, that'd be perfect,” Shock Value said with a grin.

“You've got to come with me, Mattie. I simply don't have the guts to do this alone. Lord knows, I'm no Hemingway.” Emery Blackwell slumped dejectedly in the chair in Mattie's office. “You got me into this, and you simply cannot abandon me now in my hour of need.”

“Of course I'll come with you,” Mattie assured him. “I can't wait to see it. Just give me a minute to finish off this paperwork. I'm right in the middle of something. Would you like a cup of herbal tea or something to calm your nerves?”

“A shot of whiskey, maybe, not tea.”

The door of Mattie's office opened, and Hugh took one step into the room before he spotted Emery. He scowled. “Why is it I can't go anywhere these days without tripping over you or Grafton, Blackwell? The two of you are getting to be damned nuisances.”

Emery looked up with lofty disdain. “If my presence offends you, Abbott, feel free to take yourself off elsewhere. You're not needed around here at the moment, as it happens. Mattie and I have an appointment in a few minutes.”

“The hell you do.” But Hugh's voice contained more resignation than heat.

He sauntered over to the desk, tipped Mattie's face up, and kissed her ruthlessly. It was a kiss of possession, rather than passion. The kind of kiss a man uses when he's drawing lines and issuing challenges in front of another man. The woman's response was not particularly important. It was the impact on the other male that counted.

Mattie smiled frostily. “You've made your point.”

“Dear me,” Emery murmured. “However do you tolerate all that dreadful machismo, Mattie? Ariel could only put up with it for a few weeks.”

“Most of the time it can be ignored,” Mattie explained cheerfully.

Hugh