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“Can you what?”
“Put these in a vase. They’ll go well on the dining room table, don’t you think? You know, add a splash of color? Here. You like dark chocolate? You’re not on a diet, are you?”
She couldn’t keep up with what he was saying. Her face was hot,
her ears pinging as though she were deep underwater, her air tanks empty, the pressure breaking something inside her head. “There’s a glass jar in the cabinet,” she said.
He walked through the dining room and began filling the jar at the sink, his back to her, his shoulders as broad as an ax handle inside his dress shirt. “I went on a private plane to Galveston early this morning and dissolved my business connections with a company I never should have been involved with,” he said. “I also settled some financial affairs with my ex. I’m going back to painting full-time. I’m getting rid of my ad business as well.”
He turned around, drying his hands on a paper towel. He crumpled the towel and set it absentmindedly behind him on the drainboard. Then he picked up the towel and began looking for a place to put it.
“Under the sink,” she said.
“Are you going to the musical revue in New Iberia this weekend?”
“I’m making a documentary of it.”
“That’s wonderful. My ex is sponsoring one of the bands, a western swing group of some kind.” He continued to gaze into her face, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re not a fan of my ex?”
“She said some ugly things to me.”
“What did you do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I didn’t have to. Alafair Robicheaux did. She popped her in the mouth. Your ex is a cunt.”
“Good Lord, Miss Gretchen.”
“I don’t like people calling me ‘miss,’ either.”
“That’s what Varina says. She hates that word.”
“Good for her. She’s still a cunt. Are you holding your breath?”
“No. Why?”
“Because your face is red. Men do that when they want to seem innocent and shy.”
“I grew up here. Most women here don’t use that kind of language.”
“You’re saying I’m not as good as they are?”
“No, it’s the other way around. I admire you tremendously.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You know how to put the fear of God in a man. On top of it, you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
“I’m going to be a little personal here. Let’s put the nonsense aside. You’re an extraordinary woman, the kind every man wants to be with. You radiate a combination of power and femininity that’s rare. I’m very drawn to you.”
“Yeah, that is a little personal,” she replied. She could feel the blood rising in her chest, her breasts swelling. “What do you think you know about me?”
“I don’t understand.”
