Silver Linings, стр. 70
“We are proposing to walk all of two blocks down the street to the bookstore,” Emery informed him. “I do hope that doesn't offend your hopelessly antiquated sense of male territoriality.”
“Heck, no,” Hugh said. “I'll go with you, sport that I am.”
“Shouldn't you be working?” Emery suggested pointedly.
“Took the afternoon off. I get to do that, you know. I have this really important, fancy, executive-level job that lets me do that.”
“How odd,” Emery murmured.
Mattie leaned back in her chair. “There's no need to go with us, Hugh. Emery and I will only be gone a few minutes.”
“No sweat, babe. I've got nothing better planned. And I wouldn't mind hitting a good bookstore.”
“Oh, do you read?” Emery asked.
“Without even moving my lips on my good days,” Hugh assured him.
“Congratulations. Quite an accomplishment for a man of your rather peculiar abilities.”
“Gentlemen,” Mattie interrupted forcefully, “I would appreciate it if you would do your sniping outside of this office and away from me. If you cannot be civil to each other, please leave. Otherwise, you will both shut up while I finish this paperwork and then we will all go together to the bookstore.”
“Sure,” said Hugh. “By the way, just why are we making this trek as one big, happy family, anyway?”
“We are going to look at the first book in Emery's new mystery series. It arrived in the shop yesterday, and they got it out on the shelves this morning.”
“How do you know?”
“I called,” Emery said coldly. “Anonymously, of course.”
Hugh grinned. “Of course. I'll bet you've been calling anonymously for the past couple of weeks, right?”
Emery sighed. “Really, Mattie. What do you see in him?”
“It's kind of hard to explain sometimes,” Mattie admitted.
“Don't start,” Hugh warned.
“She tells me you're claiming this is a more or less permanent move to Seattle,” Emery murmured, crossing his legs and adjusting the crease in his trousers. “Personally, I think you're lying through your teeth.”
“Is that right?”
Mattie looked up uneasily as she heard Hugh's voice go cold.
“Yes,” Emery said, “that's right. You're just playing games, aren't you, Abbott? I'll wager you're just biding your time, secretly planning to sweep Mattie off to that godforsaken little hellhole of an island you call home.”
“What if I am?” Hugh drawled. “Would you have any objections?”
“As a matter of fact, I would. Mattie's a civilized woman and deserves civilized surroundings. She will make her own decisions, naturally, but let me make something perfectly clear, Abbott.”
“And what would that be?” Hugh asked, voice dropping another ten degrees below zero.
“Mattie is a friend of mine. If it should come to my attention that you are not treating her well or if you fail to make her happy, you will hear from me. Is that understood?”
“What'll it be, Blackwell? Pistols at dawn?”
Mattie got to her feet, outraged. “Stop it, both of you. Stop it at once, do you hear me?”
Emery rose majestically. “Just watch your step, Abbott. You may be a few years younger than I, but that only means I've had that much longer to get meaner and craftier.” He turned to Mattie. “Are you ready to go, my dear?”
“Well, I'm not sure.” Mattie eyed both men consideringly. “This is a totally new experience for me, you realize. I've never had two men fighting over me. I'm having so much fun listening to the two of you snarl and growl and snap that I hate to see the entertainment end.”
“Don't worry,” Hugh said as he took her arm and started toward the door. “It's not likely to stop just because we're out in public.”
“Actually,” Mattie said, “that's what I'm afraid of. I do have a reputation in this neighborhood, you know. I'm the quiet Sharpe. I don't take part in public scenes.”
Emery smiled grandly. “I assure you, Mattie, I, for one, will not embarrass you. I cannot speak for your hellhound here, however. I leave it to you to control him.”
“Relax, babe,” Hugh said. “I promise not to rip Emery's head off his shoulders while we're inside the bookstore.”
“I suppose I'll have to be satisfied with that much. Let's go.” Mattie led the way out the door and through the gallery. She waved casually to her assistant as the trio went past the front desk. “We'll be back in a few minutes, Suzanne.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Suzanne answered with a wave.
St. Cyr's Axiom was sitting face out on the new-books shelf in the mystery section of the large bookstore. Right where it was supposed to be. It even had a neatly lettered sign under it advising browsers that this was a work by a local author.
Mattie took one look at the evocative cover with its subtle, sexy, menacing appeal and hugged Emery.
“It's gorgeous!” she exclaimed. She released Emery and stood back to admire the book from all angles. “Absolutely beautiful. It's going to sell like crazy.”
“Why should it? Nobody's ever heard of the author.” Emery examined his pseudonym on the book and shook his head. “Just one more new mystery in an already overcrowded genre.”
“The cover will sell it,” Mattie assured him. “And once the average browser reads the first page, he'll be hooked. Here, I'll show you. We'll run a little experiment.” She plucked a copy of St. Cyr's Axiom from the stack and handed it to Hugh.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Hugh demanded, examining the cover.
“You get to volunteer as our average bookstore browser for this on-the-spot consumer test. Read the first page.”
“Without moving your lips,” Emery added.
Hugh looked at Mattie. “Do I have to do this?”
“Yes, you do. Get busy.”
With a great show of reluctance, Hugh opened the book and scanned the first paragraph of St. Cyr's Axiom. Then he went on to the second and third paragraphs.
Mattie grinned as he started to turn the page. “That's far enough. It proves my point.” She snatched the book out of Hugh's