Page 137 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

“It’ll be fine. The client won’t notice.”

“Are you blind? The brushstrokes are wrong. And look at this.” He pointed at a tree on the original and then the same spot on his fake. “I can’t get the color right.”

Simon leaned in for a closer look. He could see what Rudy was talking about, but he knew Petry would never notice.

“It’s more than good enough for the time you’ve had.”

Rudy snorted, then started painting again.

“The other one?” Simon asked.

Rudy yawned and nodded toward the corner. “Over there.”

“May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Summer at Sheep Meadowleaned against the wall, next to its original. If anything, it looked even better than the one Rudy was working on.

“When will you get to the one I just brought?”

“When I finish this one, which”—Rudy paused to yawn again—“is getting further and further away the longer you bother me.”

“They’ll all be ready tomorrow morning, though?”

“You said noon.”

“Fine, fine, noon.”

Rudy tried to stifle a third yawn but failed. “They’ll be ready.”

“I need them boxed, too.”

“You never said anything about boxing them.”

“I’m saying it now. All in one. But don’t make it too big. You and I will need to carry it out of here.”

“Anything else, your lordship?”

“That’s all for now.”

“Fuck you very much, Simon.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, and if you do happen to get them done early, let me know.”

“Get out!”

—

Pain shot through Phillip’s skull as he lifted his head and opened his eyes.

He was in a dingy, dimly lit room, tied to a chair. He tried to pull free from his restraints, but his arms barely moved.

The last thing he remembered was being rear-ended while heading to the hotel for the night. He’d gotten out to give the other driver a piece of his mind when someone had come up behind him and plunged a needle into his arm and everything went dark.

From the way his body ached, whoever had kidnapped him had been having fun working him over. They’d realize their mistake when he returned the favor.

He heard voices and the room’s only door opening. Someone flicked on the overhead light, forcing him to shut his eyes against the glare.

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