Silver Linings

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Silver Linings Page 12

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  The splotches of paint on the shorts were all the clue Mattie needed. Smiling her best gallery-owner smile, she started across the room, deliberately ignoring the wolf whistles and moist sucking sounds that came from the group of sailors.

  “Mr. Silk? I'm Mattie Sharpe from Seattle. I just saw the painting you're working on down on the Griffin, and I think it's absolutely wonderful. I'd like to talk to you about representation.”

  The big man turned his head very slowly to stare at her with slightly bloodshot blue eyes. His leonine face went well with the rest of him, Mattie decided. He was truly huge all over, but everything about him appeared to be very, very solid.

  The blue eyes lit up as they settled on her. She continued to smile back, feeling quite hopeful. She had never met an artist who was not more than anxious to sell his work.

  “Well, well, well.” The voice fit the man, a deep, booming, Southern drawl. “Who the hell did you say you were?”

  “Mattie Sharpe. I own a gallery back in Seattle called Sharpe Reaction, and if the painting I saw on board your boat is a sample of the body of your work, I would love to represent you.”

  The man's grin was slow and magnificent and revealed two gold teeth. “The body of my work, eh? Sit down, Mattie Sharpe, and let me buy you a drink. We can have us a real nice discussion on the subject of my body.”

  Mattie sat down. “Thank you. Is Silk the name you prefer or would you rather I use your first name?”

  “Honeypot, you can call me anything your little heart desires. But if you can't think of something better, Silk'll do just fine.” Silk turned and called out to the bartender. “Bernard, my lad, bring the lady whatever she wants.”

  “What's she want, Silk?” the bartender called back.

  Silk turned to Mattie. “What'll it be, Mattie Sharpe?”

  “Iced tea would be nice.”

  “Hey, Bernard, you got any iced tea for the lady?”

  “I think I got some tea and I know I got ice. I guess I can put the two together. Take me a few minutes, though.”

  Silk nodded in ponderous satisfaction. “No rush, Bernard. No rush at all. Me and the lady are going to just sit right here and get to know each other. Ain't that right. Mattie Sharpe?”

  It occurred to Mattie that the man called Silk might be a little farther gone than he had originally appeared. “About your painting, Silk.”

  “Forget my painting. We can talk about that later. Much later. Tell me about yourself, Mattie Sharpe. Tell me what you like to eat, what your favorite color is, and how you like for a man to ball you. Tell me all the little details. I always aim to please.”

  Mattie stared at him, uncertain whether she had heard him correctly. Surely he had not actually said what she thought he had said. “My gallery is quite successful, Silk,” she began earnestly. “I feel certain your work would do very well there. It has the timeless appeal of landscape art and the immediate impact of a powerful, passionate statement.”

  Silk's grin got bigger. “That's me, Mattie Sharpe. I ain't nothin' if not passionate.”

  “All good artists are passionate about their work. Look, I'm only going to be here on St. Gabriel for a very short time. But if we can work out a suitable contract, I would like to take some of your paintings back with me.”

  Silk put one elbow on the table and rested his broad chin on his hand. “Do you like it slow and easy or hard and fast?” he asked. “I can go either way, but they don't call me Silk for nothin'. I'm at my best when I'm going slow and easy. Maybe with you on top, huh? You're kind of a little thing, and I wouldn't want to accidentally squash you. Yeah, I think slow and easy would be best.”

  Mattie groaned and reluctantly got to her feet. “I think we had better have this conversation at some other time, Silk.”

  “Nonsense. We're doing just fine, Mattie Sharpe. Sit down and keep talking.” Silk's big hand snaked out with an astonishingly quick, flashing movement, locking around her wrist. There was enormous strength in his fingers.

  Mattie gasped as she was jerked back down onto her seat. She stared at the huge paw wrapped around her wrist. Artists were notoriously difficult at times, but this was getting out of hand.

  “Let go of me,” Mattie said very firmly.

  “Now, now, don't be in such a rush, honeypot. Bernard'll be here with your iced tea in a minute or two, and you can drink it while we talk. Then we'll just wander down to the Griffin and fuck each other's brains out. How does that sound?”

  “I said, let go of me.”

  “Now, honeypot, don't go getting impatient. I told you, slow and easy. All in good time.” Silk leered happily at her. “I'll be at my best after another couple of drinks. Smooth as Silk, like they say.”

  “I have no intention of seeing you at your best.” Mattie snatched up his half-finished whiskey with her free hand and hurled the contents straight in Silk's face. The big man yelped and his grip slackened slightly on her wrist. She yanked her hand free and stepped quickly back out of reach.

  “Hey, man, what do you think you're doing?” one of the sailors bellowed, getting to his feet. “Let the lady alone.”

  “Yeah, let the little gal alone!” yelled another man at the same table. “She'd much rather have some civilized company, I'll bet. Wouldn't ya, lady?” The second sailor stood up also, staggering slightly as he found his balance.

  The rest of the men at the table quickly got to their feet, exhibiting varying degrees of stability.

  Instantly chair legs scraped on the scarred wooden floor of the Hellfire as everyone else in the room scrambled to his feet. Enthusiastic shouts rose to a clamor.

  Silk lost interest in Mattie at once. His whole face glowed with a beatific expression as he rose majestically. “Well, now, lads, looks like we have us a slight difference of opinion here. What say we settle the matter like the gentlemen we all are?”

  “Any time, Silk. We'll back you against these sweet little Navy pussies any time. You just say the word.’

  Silk glanced over his shoulder at Mattie. “Don't go nowhere now, Mattie Sharpe. I'll be through here in just a minute or two, and we can carry on right where we left off.”

  With a roar, Silk launched himself toward the group of sailors. The regular patrons of the Hellfire followed suit.

  Mattie was stunned by the speed with which the brawl erupted. With one hand instinctively going to her throat, she sidestepped to avoid a flying chair. Then she backed hurriedly toward the door.

  A man who had apparently abandoned shaving and deodorant upon moving to St. Gabriel made a grab for her arm. “What d'ya say we just kind o' slide on outa here, sweetheart? Nobody's gonna miss us.”

  Mattie rammed her elbow into the man's ribs and extricated herself from his grasp when he bent double. She fumbled with the catch of her shoulder bag.

  “Can you hear me, Silk?” she called out above the din.

  “I can hear you just fine, Mattie Sharpe. Be right with you.” Silk smashed a beefy fist into a hapless face and turned to show Mattie a wide grin.

  Mattie plucked one of her business cards out of her purse and waved it in the air. “I'm going to leave my card here on the bar. I'll look you up tomorrow morning when you're, uh, recovered. I really feel we can do business together, and I—Oh!”

  Mattie's voice rose on a yelp of alarm as her business card was snapped out of her fingers. A familiar male hand closed around her arm with a force that was just short of bruising.

  “Damn,” said Hugh. “I should have known. Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?”

  “Hugh.” Mattie breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens it's you. I don't mind telling you, I was getting a little nervous. Artists are usually somewhat eccentric, but I've never had anything like this happen before when I've approached one.”

  Hugh wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck and hauled her toward the door. “I suppose you started this?”

  Mattie was outraged. “Me? What a nasty thing to say. I had nothing to do with this stu
pid brawl. I was just trying to conduct a little business.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Yep. She started it all right, Abbott,” Bernard the bartender announced. “Walked right in and sat right down at Silk's table. Silk being Silk, you know what happened next. And we both know Miles is going to expect someone to pay for it.”

  “Send the bill to Silk,” Hugh suggested.

  “Can't do that. He'll try to pay for it with another painting. We already got enough of his pictures stashed away in the back room. Don't need another one.”

  “All right, all right. Bill me for whatever you can't get out of the Navy.”

  “You got it.” The bartender went back to polishing glasses as the bar fight raged across the floor of the Hellfire.

  “Now, hold on just one hot minute,” Mattie said. “You shouldn't pay for any of the damage being done in here. It's not your fault, Hugh.”

  “We all know whose fault it is.” Hugh yanked her toward the door. “But don't worry. I intend to get reimbursed. I'll just take it out of your soft little hide.”

  “Don't you dare talk like that,” Mattie retorted indignantly. “I am a totally innocent victim.”

  Before Hugh could respond to that statement, a familiar voice boomed out across the sounds of thudding fists and flying chairs.

  “Now, just a dadblamed minute, Abbott. What d'ya think you're doing? You can't go running off with that little gal. I already got dibs on her. You just leave her be. I'll be through here right quick.”

  Hugh halted and turned around to confront Silk, who had emerged from the center of the brawl to reclaim his departing victim.

  “Sorry, Silk. A slight misunderstanding here. Mattie belongs to me. Brought her with me from Purgatory.”

  Silk's eyes widened in outrage as he glared at Mattie. “The hell you say.”

  “Afraid so. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're out of here.”

  “Now, see here, this just ain't fair, Abbott.”

  “I know, Silk, but that's the way it goes. Finders keepers.”

  Mattie was incensed. “Will you two kindly stop discussing me as if I were a side of beef?” A glass whizzed past her head and she ducked instinctively. A split second later it shattered against the wall behind her.

  Silk's massive hand closed around Mattie's free wrist. “Don't you worry none, Mattie Sharpe. I'll be glad to teach Abbott here some manners. He gets kinda uppity at times.”

  “Oh, my God,” Mattie said.

  “Let her go, Silk. You've got business to attend to.” Hugh sidestepped a chair as it went skidding past his booted foot.

  “But the whole point of this here business is so me and Mattie Sharpe can go screw…umph.”

  Silk lost his balance and toppled to the floor like a felled oak as Hugh did something very fast and very efficient with his foot and one hand.

  “I said, let her go, Silk.” Hugh spoke with surprising gentleness. “You know I always mean what I say.”

  Silk propped himself up on his elbows and eyed Mattie through slitted eyes. “You said you brought her with you from Purgatory?”

  “Yeah. I'm going to marry her as soon as I can get things arranged.”

  Silk looked up at him in open astonishment. “No fooling? Hey, can I come to the party? I haven't been to a real live wedding party in years.”

  Mattie sighed.

  “Sure,” Hugh said easily. “You can come to the party.”

  Silk staggered to his feet, dusted himself off, and gave Mattie a huge grin. “Don't you worry none, Mattie Sharpe. I'll make sure it's a real wingding of a party. It'll be a party to remember, that's for sure. We'll invite the whole damn island.”

  He turned and waded back into the fray.

  “Let's just hope he doesn't do any damage to his hands,” Mattie said as Hugh hauled her out the door and into the street.

  “Damn it to hell.” Hugh shoved her into the passenger seat of the Jeep and got in beside her. “Is that all you can think about?”

  “Talent is where you find it. I'd hate to see his artistic career ruined because his hands got injured in a barroom brawl.”

  “Silk hasn't got an artistic career. He works for me when he works at all, and the rest of the time he just sits around in his boat painting or else he sits in the Hellfire drinking.” Hugh sent the Jeep roaring out of town. “Once in a while he gets real lucky when some stray lady tourist wanders in and decides he's picturesque.”

  “I see.”

  Hugh slid her a dangerous sidelong glance. “Can't really blame the guy for thinking he'd gotten lucky this afternoon, can I? The way you behaved, it's no wonder.”

  “For heaven's sake. You make it sound like I went in there to pick him up,” Mattie said tightly.

  “Well, didn't you?”

  “No, I did not. I went in there to do business with the man.”

  “What the hell did you think you were doing wandering into a waterfront bar all by yourself and sitting down at the table of a complete stranger?” Hugh snapped. “Where's your common sense, Mattie?”

  “Stop acting as if what happened back there was all my fault.”

  “It was your fault. I told you that.”

  “Hugh, I don't want to hear another word about it, understand? I've told you before, I don't like listening to your little lectures. And while we're on the subject, there's something else I'd better mention. I'd rather you stopped telling everyone we're going to get married.”

  “Why? It's the truth.”

  “It is not the truth. We have no plans for marriage. You're only going to embarrass yourself if you go around telling everyone you're about to become a groom.”

  He took his attention off the narrow road just long enough to shoot her a searing look. “What the hell do you mean, we're not getting married? We got that all settled last night, damn it.”

  “We did not settle anything last night!” Mattie yelled back. “All we did last night was have sex together. If you will recall, we did that once before and it didn't end in marriage.”

  “Christ, woman, are you going to throw that in my face again?”

  “Yes, I am. You deserve it.” She braced herself on the window frame of the Jeep as Hugh slammed the vehicle to a halt. “Why are we stopping?”

  “Because we're in the middle of an argument and I want to give it my full attention.” Hugh swung around in the seat to confront her, one arm draped over the wheel, the other lying along the back of the seat. “Mattie, what's gotten into you? You knew I figured everything was okay between us this morning.”

  “I knew you were probably making some assumptions, but who am I to try to set you straight? You never listen to me.”

  “Give me a chance. Talk to me. Tell me why you won't marry me,” he said roughly.

  “Try it the other way, Hugh. Why should I marry you?”

  “Because you love me.”

  “Is that right?” She faced him with fury and passion now. “How do you know that for certain?”

  “I've always known it.” He looked exasperated and helpless in the way only a man can when caught in the middle of a dreaded relationship discussion. “Since that night we spent together a year ago. Before that, if you want to know the truth. I wasn't completely blind to the way you acted around me. You were always sort of anxious and uneasy.”

  “Stress.”

  “Don't give me the stress excuses. If I wasn't sure how you felt about me back then, I got a damn good idea during the past eight months when you deliberately avoided me every chance you got. You were afraid to see me because you knew the effect I'd have on you.”

  “Bull.”

  “And if there was any doubt left, you cleared it up last night. You wanted me, Mattie. Admit it, damn it. You wanted me.”

  “I don't know what came over me last night. I went a little crazy. It was the stress. It must have been.”

  “It was not the goddamned stress. You wanted me. You can't hide a thing like that.”

  “Wanting is not nece
ssarily loving. You're old enough to know that.”

  “It is with you.”

  “You don't know that, damn you!” she shouted.

  “Mattie, babe, you're getting upset.”

  “Of course I'm upset. You're trying to tear my world apart again. I won't let you do it a second time, Hugh. It took me long enough to put myself back together last time. Do you hear me? I won't let you do it to me.”

  “Babe, listen to me. I've told you I'm sorry. I didn't know what the hell I was doing last time. I made a mistake. I've been regretting it ever since. But this time around things are going to be different.”

  “Are they?” she asked, almost viciously.

  “Damn right.”

  “Prove it.”

  That stopped him for an instant. He looked blank. “What do you mean, prove it? How am I supposed to do that?”

  “Are you sure you really want to marry me?”

  He began to look wary now. “Hell, yes. Why else would I be going through this kind of nonsense?”

  “Because you've got your one-track brain set on getting yourself a wife. Because I'm convenient. Because I once volunteered to move out here to the edge of the world, so you figure I won't give you a hard time about it the way my sister did. Because you think you can handle me.”

  Hugh rammed his fingers through his hair. “You're trying to make it sound like a business deal or something.”

  “I think it is, in a way. You want a wife and I appear to be available. You don't have a lot of opportunity for finding suitable wives out here on this backwater island, do you? Some man down at the docks said living on St. Gabriel was rather like living in a monastery.”

  “Now, Mattie, babe—”

  “It's pretty clear why you fixated on me after Ariel opted out of the engagement. I'm a known quantity and I must have looked like I'd be a great deal easier to manage than Ariel. After all, I don't make scenes. I don't quarrel in public. I'm not melodramatic.”

 

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