Glancing over the walking cadaver's head, he suddenly spied the back view of a curvaceous woman in a nude color dress with a shimmer of sparkle. He'd know that ass anywhere and the glossy swing of her hair when she laughed. Who was that pinhead with her? Some guy with artfully shaped stubble and an earring.
"Excuse me." He left the gaunt woman still talking and strode up to Bryony, stopping directly behind her. "Who let you in?"
She jumped about a foot in the air and spilled her drink. Again. Second time in one day he had that effect on her. He'd like to think he made her nervous, but she did have a naturally clumsy streak so it was hard to tell.
Pinhead looked annoyed at the interruption, but said nothing and didn't meet his eye. Just surveyed Ben's suit with thinly veiled irritation.
"Oops! I owe you a drink, Ms. Mulligan." Ben made a fuss over her and her dress, taking the empty glass out of her hand, looking at the salt around the rim. "Margarita is it?"
"Petruska, I don't need you to buy me a drink."
"But I will anyway." One hand on her waist, he drew her away toward the bar. He glanced over at Pinhead and smiled wide, showing teeth. "I hope you don't mind, but Miss Mulligan and I have some business to discuss."
"How dare you?" she exclaimed hotly. "No we don't."
"About a job, Ms. Mulligan. Remember?"
She twisted around as he dragged her off. "I'll be back in a minute," she promised Pinhead.
Ben gave the other man a look that assured him otherwise. He didn't have to say anything else, but steered her through the crowd by the bar, spreading his fingers over the soft layer of sequins that made her gown twinkle. God, she felt good. No way was she going back to Pinhead.
"You've got some nerve, Numbnuts," she whispered angrily.
"Yes, I do. I have a lot of nerves and you get on all of them."
"I'm not one of your bimbos to be pushed around."
"Bimbos?"
"Why did you bring Carl here anyway? Helena is in a foul mood and this isn't the place for a fight. She's working."
"I didn't bring him," he explained placidly. "He brought me." Ben fully expected her to yell at him about touching her, but she didn't mention his hand on her waist, so he left it there. "Where is Helena?"
"Schmoozing. Why?"
"Is she having an affair?"
"Helena?" Her eyes widened. "No way!"
He set her empty glass on the bar. "You sure? Carl is convinced—"
"She thinks he's having an affair."
Ben laughed and shook his head. "Much ado about nothing, then."
"You know how they are."
"True." On the way to the gallery he'd advised his cousin to take control of the situation. Helena, he suspected, wanted her husband to toughen up a little. Carl could be a real wimp at times, always worrying too much about what he shouldn't say or do, always analyzing every move. Never one to just go with the flow. As a marriage therapist Carl was probably the worst sort of husband. Kind of like teachers were said to make the worst parents. "I've given Carl a little advice."
"You have?" Her voice dripped with scorn. "Know a lot about marriages do you? Perennial bachelor that you are?"
"I know about women," he responded coolly. "And at least as much about relationships as you do, perennial spinster."
Her lips parted. An extra dash of color darkened her cheeks and it wasn't rouge.
"What's up?" he demanded. "Spinster is the female equivalent of bachelor."
She had no answer to that. Naturally she always thought she could call him whatever she wanted. When he retaliated she sulked.
"Look how easily we just sorted out their problem," he marveled out loud. "One straightforward question and answer. Seems to be beyond Helena and Carl. You'd think, if we can manage simple communication, anyone could."
She answered crisply, "It's easy for people on the outside of a situation."
"Well," he looked at her luscious lips, "enough about our cousins. Have you thought about my job proposition?"
Tipping her head back, she studied his face. the reflection from her long earrings shining down the side of her neck, just where he suddenly thought about kissing her. "Write something up," she said. "I told you."
"Ok. I will. Nice lipstick, by the way."
She seemed puzzled. "Thanks." Then she laughed. "I guess."
"What's so funny?" He tightened his hold on her as the crowd swelled. When her body moved against his, he was shocked by an immediate response in his pants. That hadn't happened to him quite so swiftly in a woman's presence since he was in college. These days there were often too many available women around, looking to catch his eye. It was a case of too much of one thing in his diet and he was bored, lost his appetite. Until now.