“Come on, babe, you're being ridiculous.”
“No,” Mattie said tightly. “I don't think I am. I'm being realistic. What you don't seem to realize is that I'm not the same woman I was a year ago. I made some decisions that morning after I humiliated myself.”
“What decisions?”
“I told myself that never again would I settle for playing second fiddle to my sister. I had enough of that while I was growing up. Enough of watching her get the dates while I prayed the phone would ring just once for me. Enough of having her cast-off boyfriends come to me for sympathy and comfort. Enough of watching her win all the prizes and get all the applause.”
“For crying out loud, Mattie.”
But Mattie was too wound up to stop this time. “It was humiliating always being second best. It was miserable having people chalk up her tantrums to a budding artistic temperament while I always got a lecture on self-control. I hated being sent to counselor after counselor to find out if I was an underachiever or if I was just a hopeless case.”
“Spare me a dissertation on your early childhood traumas, okay? I'll tell you something, babe, you don't know what real trauma is,” Hugh said through clenched teeth. “You with your fancy private schools and your art lessons and your rich aunt Charlotte.”
“Is that right?” she raged back.
“Damn right. You know what trauma is? It's having your old man run off when you're six years old and you're glad to see him go because it means the beatings will stop. It's having your mother give you up to foster care because she can't figure out how to deal with you and her own miserable, screwed-up life at the same time. It's having people tell you you're bound to wind up in jail sooner or later because you come from bad stock.”
Mattie stared at him, aghast. Then her eyes narrowed. “Oh, no you don't, Hugh Abbott. You're not going to pull that old trick on me.”
“What old trick?” he roared.
“You're not going to belittle my feelings by making me feel sorry for you. All my life my feelings have been less important than anyone else's. Everyone else got to be temperamental, but not me. I was expected to be nice.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, I've got news for you. You're not being very nice at the moment, babe. You're yelling louder than a damned fishwife.”
“You know something? It feels good. Right now I have a right to feel used, damn it. You are trying to use me. You're accustomed to giving orders, accustomed to having things go the way you want them to go. Ariel gave you a setback last year, but that didn't stop you, did it? You've regrouped and decided to attack a weaker target this year. Well, I won't stand in for her. Not this time. Do you hear me?”
“Mattie, that is not the way it is.” Hugh clearly had himself under control again.
“Isn't it? You're picking me this time because you think I'll be so damn grateful to marry you I'll get down on my knees and thank you. Well, that's not how it's going to be.”
“Babe,” Hugh said soothingly, “take it easy.”
“I will not take it easy. We're going to settle this here and now. If you really want me, you can damn well prove it.”
“I'm going to marry you. What the hell more do you want?”
“I'll tell you what I want.” She was feeling goaded now—dangerous, reckless, and up against a wall. “You can stop expecting me to give up my career and my friends and everything else back in Seattle to move out here to the edge of the world to make a home for you.”
“But, babe—”
“Stop calling me babe! If you really want me, Hugh Abbott, then you can give up your business and your lifestyle and your friends and move to Seattle.”
Hugh's mouth fell open as he stared at her in stunned amazement.
Mattie realized with a sense of shocking satisfaction that it was the first time she had ever seen Hugh Abbott caught completely by surprise. She sat back in her seat, folding her arms protectively under her breasts, and studied him through cool, narrowed eyes.
“Are you nuts, Mattie? Me leave St. Gabe? With everything I've got going here?”
“Yes, that does put a different slant on the subject, doesn't it?” she noted sweetly. “Rather like asking me to leave Seattle.”
Hugh closed his mouth. His big hand tightened ferociously around the steering wheel. “Is this some kind of game, Mattie? Because I don't like games.”
“It's no game. I told you, I'm tired of being second best. Just once, just once, mind you, I want to know I'm first. I want to be wanted for myself, not as a fill-in for Ariel. Just once I want to finish in front. And if I can't be first, I don't want to even enter the damned race this time.”
Hugh was silent for a long time, his hooded eyes never leaving her set face. “I don't believe this,” he finally said.
“Believe it, Hugh.”
“You want me to give up Abbott Charters? Forget the house I was going to build for us? Live in a damned city and go to gallery openings and drink espresso?”
She smiled grimly. “It is a lot to ask, isn't it? Just as much as you're asking of me.”
“But I've got a business to run.”
“So do I.”
“How the hell am I supposed to get Abbott Charters on its feet from Seattle?”
“How the hell am I supposed to run Sharpe Reaction from St. Gabriel?”
“It's not the same thing,” Hugh shot back. “Damn it, Mattie, when you move out here, I'll take care of you.”
“If you come to Seattle, I'll take care of you. I make enough to support both of us.”
“I'm not going to let you make me into some god-damned kept man,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Well, I don't want to be a kept woman.”
“Babe, be reasonable. You were willing enough to move out here a year ago. You begged me to take you with me when I left Seattle.”
“That,” said Mattie, beginning to feel like a broken record, “was last year.”
“Shit.” Hugh sat back in his seat and wrenched the key in the Jeep's ignition. The engine started with a roar.
Mattie closed her eyes tightly, but she could not stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks. Angrily she brushed at them with the back of her hand.
“Mattie? Are you crying?”
“No. I won't let you make me cry a second time, Hugh. I will never let you make me cry again.”
There was silence from the other side of the Jeep. And then Hugh said quietly, “All right. We'll try it.”
She blinked away more moisture. “Try what?”
“I'll try proving to you that you're first. I'll go back to Seattle with you. I can go on working for Charlotte, so you won't be supporting me. We'll see how it goes.”
Mattie jerked her head around to stare at his hard profile. “You don't mean that.”
He shrugged. “I never say things I don't mean.”
“You can't come with me to Seattle. You'd hate living there.”
“I've lived a lot of places that were a lot worse.”
“Hugh, this is crazy.”
“Yeah. I agree. But I can't think of any other way to prove I want you more than I wanted Ariel. And that's what this is really all about, isn't it? Proof? You'll get your proof, Mattie.”
She heard the grim determination in his rough-edged voice and she shuddered. “I don't believe you'll really pack up and come back to Seattle with me.”
“You sure don't trust me very much, do you, babe?”
“Frankly, no. You're hatching some kind of scheme. I can tell.”
“I'm going back to Seattle with you. Let's leave it at that, okay?”
“No,” Mattie said defiantly. “I won't leave it at that. While we're on the subject, I think I should tell you that there will be no repeat of last night's little incident.”
“I agree. I don't want you wearing that little red job out in public, anyway.”
“I'm not talking about the dress,” she yelled, “I'm talking about us! Sleeping together. Sex. You and me in a bed. No more
of it. At least not until I figure out what you're up to.”
“Shit,” Hugh said.
“I am beginning to realize you have an extremely limited vocabulary, Hugh Abbott.”
“It's the stress. When I get under a lot of stress, I always say shit.”
CHAPTER
Eight
“Are you out of your tiny little mind?” Silk Taggert shoved a bottle of beer into Hugh's hand. “Go to Seattle? And stay there for who knows how long? After you're just getting the business going here? Why in hell would you want to do that? It's damn stupid, Abbott. You're a lot of things, but stupid you normally ain't.”
“It's a relationship thing, Silk. Hard to explain.” Hugh took a long pull on the beer and leaned back against the bulkhead. He was sitting in the stern of the Griffin waiting for Mattie to finish picking up the ingredients for dinner from one of the local shops down the street. “Hell, I don't know if I understand it myself.”
“You tried this relationship stuff once before, remember? It didn't work out then. What makes you think it'll work this time?”
“Mattie's different.”
“Don't sound like it. Sounds just like the other one. Leads you on and gets a proposal out of you and then refuses to move out here and set up housekeeping.” Silk sat down in front of the easel and picked up a brush.
“I made a mistake last year,” Hugh said. “I'm paying for it.”
“How long you going to go on paying?” Silk dabbled the brush in water and then in blue paint.
“Don't know.” Hugh took another swallow of beer and thought gloomy thoughts. “Until I can convince her of something, I guess.”
“What's she want to be convinced of?” Silk studied the blank white canvas and then put in a wash of blue that came close to the color of the afternoon sky over St. Gabriel.
“That she's more important to me than her sister was, I guess.”
“Well, shoot.” Silk studied the blue wash with slitted eyes. “You could spend a lifetime trying to convince a woman she's the most important thing in your life. Women are never satisfied.”
“Mattie will be. Eventually. She just needs a little time to get used to the idea that I mean what I say.”
“What are you gonna do with the charter business while you're busy convincing Mattie she's Number One?”
“That, my good man, is where you come in.”
“Oh, no, you don't. I ain't running it for you. I don't mind making a few flights when you're short of pilots, or doing some maintenance for you, but I don't want to play boss. You know I can't stand paperwork.”
“I need you, Silk. You're the only one I can trust to handle Abbott Charters while I'm in Seattle.”
“Forget it.”
“It'll only be for a few weeks or so at the most.” Hugh leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and cradling the beer bottle between his palms. “I just need some time in Seattle.”
“She know you're only planning to spend a few weeks convincing her?”
Hugh scowled. “No, and if you open your big mouth, I will personally close it for you.”
“You're gonna keep working for Vailcourt, aren't you?”
“Might as well. The money's good. Work's easy. Charlotte Vailcourt thinks handling Vailcourt security is hard and dangerous, but she doesn't know the meaning of the words hard and dangerous. Don't see why I should be the one to set her straight. Not as long as she's willing to pay me a fortune to consult.”
“Yeah, you got it cushy working for Vailcourt, all right.” Silk added a lemon tinge to the blue sky. “You ever tell this Mattie Sharpe what you used to do for a living?”
“Hell, no.” Hugh gave his friend a cold stare.
“Don't worry. I'll keep my mouth shut,” Silk said quietly. He deepened the yellow. “But you don't know women. If they think there's some mystery in your past, they won't stop digging until they uncover it.”
“I can handle Mattie.”
Silk snorted. “Sure. That's why you're leaving everything behind here on St. Gabe and traipsing off with her to Seattle. Who's handling who, boss?”
“Look, let's just forget this whole subject, all right?”
Silk heaved a massive shrug. “Whatever you say, boss. But take it from me, you're wasting your time. Things ain't what they used to be in the old days when a good woman would follow a man to the other side of the world and stick with him come hell or high water. Nowdays we got this new liberated female who wants her own career and a fancy condo and what you call a sophisticated lifestyle. What's more, she wants to marry a man who works for a corporation, drinks white wine, and drives a BMW.”
“So now you're an expert on the modern woman?”
“A wise man learns by observation,” Silk informed him loftily. “I watched you screw up last year. I ain't looking forward to watching you shoot yourself in the foot again. It's embarrassing.”
“Mattie's different,” Hugh insisted stubbornly. “Once she's sure of me, she'll stop fussing about where she lives.”
“Sure.”
“Hey, you want to come over to dinner tonight?”
Silk's bushy brows climbed. “You making another batch of that godawful chili?”
“No. Mattie's going to be doing the cooking.” Hugh could not help feeling smug. It was curiously pleasant to be able to extend an invitation for a home-cooked dinner to a friend. He liked the idea of entertaining in his own home. Just like a real married man. “She's a great cook. I told her to pick up some nice thick steaks and stuff for a salad. Maybe dessert. What do you say?”
Silk considered that. “Sounds good. I haven't had a real home-cooked meal since that little blond tourist lady made me scrambled eggs when she stayed overnight on the Griffin.”
“That was damn near a year ago.”
“Yeah. I'm drooling already. Don't mind telling you. But I doubt if Miss Mattie Sharpe will want me coming to dinner. I didn't exactly get off on my best foot with her yesterday.”
“I explained all that,” Hugh said.
Silk put a dark blue wash in over the area that would be the sea. “Well, if you're sure she won't poison me, I'd be mighty pleased to join you.”
“Good. Six o'clock.” Hugh glanced up and saw Mattie approaching along the quay. She was wearing the new jeans she had bought yesterday and a flower-splashed top. She had complained that the jeans were too tight and that the bright, short-sleeved camp shirt was rather garish, but he thought she looked terrific. Which only went to show how low-class his tastes were, Hugh supposed. He got to his feet. “One more thing,” he said to Silk. “Don't stop off at the Hellfire first.”
Silk contrived to look offended. “I got manners when I need 'em, Abbott. Don't worry, I won't embarrass you by showing up three sheets to the wind. You hear anything yet from Purgatory?”
“No. It might take a little time. But the word is out. Bound to hear something sooner or later.” Hugh vaulted onto the dock. “We'll get whoever did it.”
“I get first crack at the bastard who blew Cormier away when we do find him,” Silk muttered.
“You're going to have to get in line. I'm first. Whoever it was came too close to getting Mattie, too, remember?”
Silk frowned thoughtfully at Mattie, who was making her way down the harbor steps, two large sacks of groceries in her arms. “You know, I still say she's going to lead you around like a bull with a ring through its nose and then dump you, but I got to admit she's got some sass and spirit. Handled me real good yesterday when I got out of line. Threw a glass of whiskey right in my face. Saw her punch out another guy who tried to grab her on the way out of the bar.”
Hugh grinned with expansive pride as he recalled Mattie holding a gun on Gibbs. “Yeah. She's definitely my kind of woman. Now all I've got to do is convince her of that.”
“I think it's going to be a little tougher than that, boss. What you got to do is convince her you're her kind of man. Again.”
As far as Hugh was concerned, dinner was a roari
ng success. This was part of what a real home was all about, he decided in deep satisfaction. This was the way it was supposed to be, a man and a woman creating a warm and happy little world where friends were welcome. It had never been this way for Hugh in the past, but he was determined that it would be in the future.
He admitted to himself he'd had a few qualms when Mattie had calmly announced she had not bought the steaks as instructed but was going to make a fancy pasta dish instead.
Hugh had not been at all certain of how Silk would react to trendy health food. But after the first bite, he knew he need not have worried. After one curious glance, Silk had immediately begun putting away the pasta by the truckload.
Taggert had appeared a bit anxious when Hugh opened the door of the small, wooden framed beach cottage earlier. But once Mattie broke the ice by asking questions about his paintings, he'd mellowed instantly.
“So you and my old buddy Hugh, here, are going to tie the knot, huh?” Silk reached for a third helping of salad and bread.
“Right,” said Hugh.
“We're thinking about it,” Mattie demurred.
Hugh scowled at her, but she appeared oblivious. He reached for another bottle of beer, started to drink straight from the bottle, and then remembered his manners and poured it into a glass.
“More pasta, Silk?” Mattie smiled and held out the bowl.
“You bet.” Silk reached for the bowl. “This is the fanciest spaghetti I've ever had, although I got to admit I've come across some pretty interesting noodle things in places like Malaysia and Indonesia. I remember one dish of rice noodles and peanuts and hot peppers that—”
Hugh kicked his friend under the table. Silk gave him a reproachful glance. The problem with Silk was that he usually meant well, but he did not always know when to keep his mouth shut. As far as Hugh was concerned, the less said about Indonesia and other exotic locales from their shared pasts, the better.
“I think I know the dish you're talking about,” Mattie was saying. “It uses lemon grass and coconut milk, doesn't it?”