lines of the suit. Thick blond hair cut with razor precision, intense eyes in a smoothly sculpted face.
“Does he?” Lindy wasn’t quite sure why she wasn’t just telling Ally who Paul was. Maybe not trusting the evidence of her own eyes that he really had come to her show, maybe not wanting to jinx her business deal by telling people about it before it was final.
“I’m sure I’ve seen his picture in the news or something, but I can’t think of the context.”
Allison flagged down Eva, who was roaming the gallery in a seemingly effortless but ruthlessly efficient circuit, making sure the event went as planned. She frowned and clutched her clipboard tighter as she saw Allison’s gesture and veered their way, clearly put off by having to deviate from her intended course.
“Is everything all right? People seem very enthusiastic about your work.” She surprised Lindy by adding, “You did a truly outstanding job with your installation.”
“Oh, well. I mean…thank you.”
“We were actually just wondering who one of the guests was, if you happened to know?” Allison ventured. She pointed discreetly in the direction of the familiar-looking man, and was rewarded with an instant reaction from Eva, who actually looked surprised for a moment.
“Oh! Wow. We weren’t expecting him, it was supposed to be somebody else coming from Red House. That’s Paul Maddox.”
“Remind me…?” Allison prompted, while Lindy remained studiously silent.
“Paul Maddox,” Eva said briskly, recovered from the surprise and ready to return to her duties. “He’s the CEO of the Red House store chain. Well, since his father has officially retired now, I suppose he is the Red House chain. If you’ll excuse me, I really have to—” She was off in mid-sentence, back to her compulsive rounds.
Allison didn’t notice Lindy’s blush because she was too busy looking with new awe at the famous heir to a century-old chain of upscale clothing stores. He was tilting his head as he circled the brilliant scarf Lindy had tossed so carelessly on its display stand. It was a mélange of techniques and textures, quilting and embroidery and crochet, forming a visual fantasy in a hundred subtly different shades of warm pink.
For the first time, Lindy noticed that from certain angles the folds of rosy fabric draping over the black stand created a distinctly labial impression. The scarf itself owed nothing to Georgia O’Keeffe, but the presentation might almost be an homage. Paul Maddox seemed to be studying the display intently, and Lindy was startled when he glanced her way and met her gaze with the same keen interest. She shivered, and a dollop of heat slid down her stomach to nestle between her thighs.
Then the moment had passed, leaving Lindy to wonder if she had only imagined it.
“Holy crap,” Allison said, clearly still intrigued by the appearance of the eligible bachelor himself. “He’s not all that much older than we are. I had no idea he was that young. Or that good-looking.”
“I know,” Lindy said, still feeling a little shaky. “You really think he’s good-looking?”
“You mean you don’t?” Allison seemed unable to believe it. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”
“I’m just picky.” Lindy shrugged as though she had lost interest in the topic. But her eyes were still trained on the spot where Paul Maddox had been standing, scrutinizing her as though she were part of the display.
“Hey,” Tess asked, looking more closely at the pink scarf as she returned to them, holding a canapé-laden plate. “Is that thing supposed to look like a vagina, or is that just me?”
Lindy looked around the room, trying to look nonchalant. Where had Maddox gone? One minute he was staring at her over the vagina scarf—oh no, the description was obviously going to stick—and the next he had disappeared. She wasn’t sure whether to feel hurt or relieved.
* * * * *
Richard had started flirting casually with
“Does he?” Lindy wasn’t quite sure why she wasn’t just telling Ally who Paul was. Maybe not trusting the evidence of her own eyes that he really had come to her show, maybe not wanting to jinx her business deal by telling people about it before it was final.
“I’m sure I’ve seen his picture in the news or something, but I can’t think of the context.”
Allison flagged down Eva, who was roaming the gallery in a seemingly effortless but ruthlessly efficient circuit, making sure the event went as planned. She frowned and clutched her clipboard tighter as she saw Allison’s gesture and veered their way, clearly put off by having to deviate from her intended course.
“Is everything all right? People seem very enthusiastic about your work.” She surprised Lindy by adding, “You did a truly outstanding job with your installation.”
“Oh, well. I mean…thank you.”
“We were actually just wondering who one of the guests was, if you happened to know?” Allison ventured. She pointed discreetly in the direction of the familiar-looking man, and was rewarded with an instant reaction from Eva, who actually looked surprised for a moment.
“Oh! Wow. We weren’t expecting him, it was supposed to be somebody else coming from Red House. That’s Paul Maddox.”
“Remind me…?” Allison prompted, while Lindy remained studiously silent.
“Paul Maddox,” Eva said briskly, recovered from the surprise and ready to return to her duties. “He’s the CEO of the Red House store chain. Well, since his father has officially retired now, I suppose he is the Red House chain. If you’ll excuse me, I really have to—” She was off in mid-sentence, back to her compulsive rounds.
Allison didn’t notice Lindy’s blush because she was too busy looking with new awe at the famous heir to a century-old chain of upscale clothing stores. He was tilting his head as he circled the brilliant scarf Lindy had tossed so carelessly on its display stand. It was a mélange of techniques and textures, quilting and embroidery and crochet, forming a visual fantasy in a hundred subtly different shades of warm pink.
For the first time, Lindy noticed that from certain angles the folds of rosy fabric draping over the black stand created a distinctly labial impression. The scarf itself owed nothing to Georgia O’Keeffe, but the presentation might almost be an homage. Paul Maddox seemed to be studying the display intently, and Lindy was startled when he glanced her way and met her gaze with the same keen interest. She shivered, and a dollop of heat slid down her stomach to nestle between her thighs.
Then the moment had passed, leaving Lindy to wonder if she had only imagined it.
“Holy crap,” Allison said, clearly still intrigued by the appearance of the eligible bachelor himself. “He’s not all that much older than we are. I had no idea he was that young. Or that good-looking.”
“I know,” Lindy said, still feeling a little shaky. “You really think he’s good-looking?”
“You mean you don’t?” Allison seemed unable to believe it. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”
“I’m just picky.” Lindy shrugged as though she had lost interest in the topic. But her eyes were still trained on the spot where Paul Maddox had been standing, scrutinizing her as though she were part of the display.
“Hey,” Tess asked, looking more closely at the pink scarf as she returned to them, holding a canapé-laden plate. “Is that thing supposed to look like a vagina, or is that just me?”
Lindy looked around the room, trying to look nonchalant. Where had Maddox gone? One minute he was staring at her over the vagina scarf—oh no, the description was obviously going to stick—and the next he had disappeared. She wasn’t sure whether to feel hurt or relieved.
* * * * *
Richard had started flirting casually with
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