Page 45 of Stuart Woods' Smolder

Peter often mentioned having loved watching his mother ride when they lived in Virginia.

“How old is your son?”

“Old enough to have won an Academy Award.”

Monica looked confused, then her eyebrows shot upward. “PeterBarrington? The director?”

“That’s him.”

“I’ve seen all of his films. I love his work.”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

The employee returned. “Good news. It’s still available.”

“Not anymore.”

The paperwork was quickly dealt with and arrangements were made to have the painting shipped to Peter in L.A. after the exhibit closed.

“You’re very decisive,” Monica said.

“In most things.”

“Is that so?”

“Would you like to come back to my place for a nightcap?”

“I see what you mean.”

He offered her his arm. “Shall we, then?”

She took it. “Lead the way.”

—

Monica’s phone vibrated as Stone drove her to the Lees’ house.

She looked at the screen, frowned, and hit reject.

Moments later the cell began ringing again, and once more she declined the call.

“Someone you don’t want to talk to?” Stone said.

“You could say that.”

The phone rang for a third time.

“Whoever it is seems persistent.”

She sighed. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

She accepted the call. “What do you want? I don’t care what you said. You havenothingto do with me anymore, remember. What I do is my business.” She listened again and then snorted. “Also not your business…Deal with it…Okay, I’ve heard enough. I’m blocking your number, so don’t waste your time calling again.”

She hung up without another word and promptly did what she’d promised.

“Boyfriend?” Stone asked.

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