Art of the Lie by Delphine Dryden Page A

Allison at the wine bar, only to receive a five-minute glowing description of her new boyfriend. He knew better than to try Tess, who had eyed him up and down upon their first meeting in college and treated him like another goofy little brother ever since. She was just tomboy enough to pull it off, and he’d seen her do it with any number of guys over the years. It was pretty effective, he had to admit. The guys still found her hot, she stayed friends with all of them, and she could change her mind and reel one in pretty much any time she wanted. Richard knew he would’ve gone for that in a heartbeat.
    Although maybe not so much anymore, he thought. Lately he had started to think of Tess more like a sister, in direct contrast to the way he had stopped thinking of Lindy as one. Tess was beautiful, undeniably. And formidable. She was the homecoming queen who could also spike a volleyball into your face. But tonight it was Lindy who outshone every other woman in the room, whose eyes sparkled and enchanted fans and critics alike. And her hair—why had he never noticed her hair before her spa visit? The new cut wasn’t that big a change, and she said she hadn’t had it colored. But it was like a banked fire now, hidden embers glowing against the backdrop of artistic black clothing and stark white gallery walls.
    Even without the knowledge of the deliciously naughty secret nestled between her thighs, Richard thought he would have been looking at Lindy differently tonight.
    He knew it was stupid to get worked up this way. They’d agreed that they were just friends. That the sex was just sex, and was also over now. But it didn’t seem to matter. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
    And neither, he’d noticed, could the suit with the blond hair. Richard watched with mounting irritation as the corporate poster boy circled the room, prowling around Lindy like a predator sizing up prey. Just waiting for his moment to strike. And then, when Ally was trying to catch the bartender’s eye and Tess had gone to chide her little brother Mikey for nearly knocking down a sculpture, that was when the suit made his move. Tapping on Lindy’s shoulder from behind, smirking out some fake apology for startling her, it looked like.
    Richard was circling the room himself without realizing it, stopping to watch the unfolding scene from behind the dubious cover of one of Lindy’s exhibits. One of her scarves, he noticed in passing. Then he stopped and took another look at the rich draped fabric. Huh…looks like a pussy , he noted, before resuming his stalker glare at the gray-suited Lothario chatting up his favorite neighbor.
    Fuck. Lindy was smiling back at the guy, and it looked like she might be blushing. The guy had taken her hand to shake it but hadn’t let go. Lindy was nodding and laughing, and the guy still hadn’t let go.
    “Mr. D’Arco ?” The voice at his shoulder distracted Richard, and he looked reluctantly down at the cool, slender blonde who ran the gallery.
    “Yeah, hi. It’s Eva, right?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    She was obviously flattered he’d remembered her name and Richard’s automatic reaction was to push this advantage. She was truly lovely under those glasses, on closer inspection. But she also reminded him far too much of Natasha. He was through with skinny blondes.
    “When you stopped by last night, I didn’t know who you were. I knew you were Lindy’s neighbor, she’d mentioned that, but I didn’t recognize you. And I didn’t know you were actually close friends. You even seem to know her family?”
    Richard nodded, acknowledging the connection. “I went to college with Lindy. And her sister Tess was there part of that time too. She was two years ahead of us, I think. This is a great place you’ve got here, by the way.”
    Eva smiled, a tight, hesitant smile. “I’m flattered you think so. Actually, I saw one of your shows in Indianapolis a few years