Page 40 of Single Mom's Daddies
Renner smiles like it was effortless. “Sold.”
There’s a pause as the next piece is brought out. Another Svet. This one darker. Less movement. One of his more severecanvases. Good for intimidating someone without saying a word. The size of a notebook. Should make for an interesting showing.
A quiet throat clears behind me.
I know that sound. Not because it’s loud—but because it’s intentional. I don’t turn right away. Just straighten slightly in my seat and wait.
“Lovely brushwork,” a voice says softly behind my left shoulder. “Almost distracts from the fact that it’s nothing.”
I don’t smile. But I do turn.
Ruger stands in the aisle behind me, dressed like a lawyer who doesn’t want to be mistaken for a cop. Charcoal suit. Blue tie. He blends in better than he used to. He smiles when I meet his gaze. Not warm. Not friendly.
Knowing.
“Agent,” I say.
“Just Charles today.”
“Then what brings you here, Charles?”
“I enjoy auctions.”
I gesture toward the painting. “Then you’re in luck. We have nothing but art and inflated egos here.”
He chuckles. “You’d know about that.”
“Is this a professional visit?”
“No,” he says, smooth as glass. “This is purely personal.”
“Then enjoy the show.”
“I am.”
He nods toward the piece being set on the easel. “That one’s Svet too, right?”
I nod.
He leans in slightly. “I never understood the appeal. All that paint, no point.”
Before I can respond, another voice cuts in. “Then paint something better, Agent.” Aunt Olenna doesn’t raise her voice. She doesn’t even look at him. But her tone slices the air like piano wire.
Ruger blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“If you think you can do better,” she says, still facing forward, “then by all means. But I’ve seen your hands. They shake when you reach for your wallet. I doubt they’d do much with a brush. How are they when you reach for a woman? An earthquake, no?”
A beat of silence follows.
Then Ruger straightens. “I see I’m not the only one with opinions.”
“You’re not,” she says. “But you are the only one who shares them when no one asked.”
He laughs once. “Fair enough.” Then he walks off.
But my blood is already hot. Because this wasn’t just a jab. This wasn’t about taste. He questionedvalue.
And if other people start doing the same, we have a problem.
