Read Complementary Colors for Free Online Page B

eldest…”
    “Mr. Duvoe?”
    A woman I didn’t know put her hand on my arm.
    “You’re Paris Duvoe, the artist.” Almost innocent wonder filled her eyes. She had a sweet face, minimal makeup, and a splash of freckles on her cheeks. There was nothing artificial about her full lips or flawless skin.
    I pulled out of her grasp and smoothed the wrinkles on my jacket. “Yes.”
    She fumbled with her wine glass, exchanging it from one hand to the next before setting it on one of the trays floating by on the hand of a waiter. The right shoulder strap of her dress slid down. She pushed it back, but it wouldn’t stay.
    Not that it mattered. Clothing could never enhance someone as pretty as her. “My name is Christine Kline.” She offered me her free hand.
    “I’m sorry.” We shook. “Have we met?”
    “No, sir, this is my first time at one of these…” She glanced around. “Events? I’ve only read about you in Modern Art. The feature they did on you a couple of months ago was wonderful.” She leaned closer. There was only the natural clean scent of her skin. Like the rest of her, it was very pleasing. “Is it true? Do you really paint naked?”
    I shielded my smile with a sip of champagne. “More often than not.”
    She grinned, and I wondered if I might be able to steal her away to somewhere quiet. Not because I wanted her, but because she was real and we could talk about real things.
    Roy had been real too. A wrinkle in the silk. A glorious imperfection.
    A man pushed his way through the crowd with the efficiency of a dull razor. “Sweetheart,” he took Christine by the arm. “We agreed that you wouldn’t wander off.”
    “I know, but I saw—”
    He stretched his Botoxed face into a sad example of a smile. “Please forgive us. Christine has never been to a dinner party before.” He tightened his grip enough to dimple her flesh.
    “Yes, she told me.”
    “She didn’t mean to intrude.”
    “She wasn’t.”
    His vise grip loosened. I drained my glass and held it out to the man. He gave me a surprised look but took it.
    “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I put Christine’s hand on my arm. “I promised your lovely date a private tour around the art room.”
    Christine’s cheeks reddened. So did the man’s, but his wasn’t flattering. I tugged her into the crowd. On the other side of the room, I took a left into an empty hallway. I checked the first door I came to. It was locked.
    “Where are we going?” she said.
    “No clue.” The third door down led to a study. I slipped inside, taking her with me. There was a flask and tumblers on the desk in the back. I left her hovering at the door and went to pour myself a drink.
    “Why are we in here?” She pushed at the shoulder strap of her dress some more, then hugged herself.
    I drank down the first glass without even sniffing the stuff to see what it was. The acrid burn pushed tears from my eyes. “I didn’t bring you in here to accost you if that’s what you’re thinking.” I poured a second.
    Muffled laughter drifted through the crack left in the door.
    “If you really want to leave, you can. I won’t be offended. I just thought someone like you might want to get away from…” I gestured with the glass. “All that.”
    “Am I that out of place?” Her smile was sad.
    “Absolutely.”
    She hunched her shoulders. “I told Tom this wasn’t a good idea.”
    “Tom? He looked more like a Dick to me.”
    She put her fingers over her lips, but her smile still showed.
    “Why are you here?” I said.
    She shrugged.
    “You have to have a reason. Better yet, why is someone like you with someone like him?”
    Christine fumbled with the bracelet on her wrist. “I should probably—”
    “I didn’t say that to insult you.” I cleared the space in three strides. “I said it because you deserve better.”
    “Better, where I come from, would be a double-wide instead of a single and cable TV.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, that was