Silver Linings
color added an emotional sophistication and a visually compelling quality to the abstract designs which took them far beyond the ordinary and into the realm of the brilliant.
And the expensive.
Mattie nibbled her canapé and unconsciously began tapping the toe of her black leather pump. She glanced at the black and gold watch on her wrist.
Hugh was due a half hour ago. He had promised to show up at the opening right after his meeting with Charlotte Vailcourt. The meeting had been scheduled for four o'clock and it was now nearly six.
She knew he had not been looking forward to tonight's event, but Mattie had insisted he attend. Going to openings was part of her world, and if he was determined to fit into that world, he could darn well make an effort to learn something about it.
Mattie glanced impatiently at her watch again. She was beginning to suspect that Hugh was deliberately stringing out the meeting with her aunt in order to avoid the gallery show. She was wondering if she should phone Charlotte's office when a voice hailed her from halfway across the crowded room.
“Mattie, you're back from paradise. I thought you'd be gone another week or so. It was supposed to be a vacation, wasn't it?”
Mattie turned her head to smile at the tall, blond Viking god making his way toward her through the throng. “Hello, Flynn. I got back early. Paradise is not all it's cracked up to be. Things didn't go according to schedule, but I guess that's what happens when you take the budget tour package.”
“Well, glad you're back safe and sound. And glad you could make it here tonight.” Flynn Grafton was a striking man by any standards. His mane of pale hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the base of his neck, a dramatic contrast to his all-black attire, which consisted of black multipleated pants, a black shirt with wide, flowing sleeves, and black boots polished to a high gloss. The only ornament was a silver Egyptian ankh he wore around his throat.
“Looks like another successful show for Ariel,” Mattie observed.
Flynn nodded proudly. “It turned out well, didn't it? Elizabeth Kenyon always does a great job. Good crowd. The usual number of moochers who always float from one opening to another for the free munchies, naturally, but what the heck. They add color.”
Mattie chuckled. “I thought I saw Shock Value Frederickson and a couple of her friends nibbling her way through the hors d'oeuvres.”
“Starving artists, one and all. But there are some genuine buyers here. It's going well. Ariel will be pleased.”
“Speaking of Ariel, where is she? I've been here over half an hour, and I haven't seen her yet.”
Flynn's noble brow contracted in a brief frown of concern. “I don't know. She was due fifteen minutes ago. She was planning on making her usual entrance after everyone had arrived. I called home, but there was no answer.”
“She must have gotten held up in traffic.”
“Probably.” Flynn's expression of concern relaxed slightly. “She's been sort of tense lately. To tell you the truth, I'm a little worried about her.”
“Ariel's high strung, Flynn. You know that.”
He shook his head and munched a canapé. “This is different.”
“Any idea why she's more tense than usual?”
“Sure. I've been pointing out that her biological clock is ticking. She's three years older than you, Mattie. Thirty-five. If we're going to have a kid, we'd better get moving. The whole notion has her panicked.”
Mattie gave him a startled look. “I can imagine. I thought Ariel had decided not to have children years ago. I distinctly remember her telling me that the day she married you. Said it would interfere with her art.”
Flynn smiled complacently. “She's just scared because of her track record in love and marriage. After all, she's already been divorced once and lord only knows how many engagements got broken along the way.”
“Ariel? Scared? That's a crock. Believe me, Flynn, my sister has more pure, unadulterated self-confidence than anyone else I know except possibly a certain party she was once engaged to last year.”
“You may be her sister, Mattie. But you don't really understand her the way I do. Never mind. I'm glad she's running late and I'm glad you're here. Gives us a chance to talk. I've been thinking it over, and I want do some stuff for your gallery. Were you serious about taking a look at some of my work?”
“Any time, Flynn. But you know as well as I do the kind of thing
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