Read Driven to Distraction (Silhouette Desire S.) for Free Online

“All the famous artists have been men.” Maggie continued checking the pockets of her computer case to see if she’d brought along any batteries. If so, they were too old to have any juice left in them.
    â€œThey say that about chefs, too, but what about Julia Child?”
    â€œWhat about that Western artist, whatsisname?”
    â€œYou’re asking me?” Suzy was using Crayolas to hold her toes apart to keep the polish from smearing.
    â€œYou know who I mean—he’s named something to do with guns. Colt? Browning? Oh, yeah—Remington.”
    â€œHe probably carries one. A gun, I mean. He said he was in security.” Carefully, Suzy began pulling out the Crayolas. “Man, I wouldn’t mind a taste of that kind of security.”
    â€œMaybe he’s a model,” Maggie suggested.
    â€œIn that case, I’m devoting the rest of my life to art.”
    Maggie said, “How did we get off on this subject, anyway?” As if she didn’t know. “I need to take some notes in case I want to write about it.”
    â€œOkay, first note—your heroine’s name is Suzy and your hero’s name is Ben. Is that a virile name, or what?”
    Maggie threw a small instruction leaflet, which she’d never bothered to read, across the room. It landed among the shoes near the bed. Four pairs of Suzy’s, one pair of hers.
    â€œI’m going to grab a shower while everybody’s still out on the porch.” Collecting soap, shampoo and a loose cotton shift that doubled as a robe, Maggie headed upstairs where one of the larger rooms had been turned into a communal bathroom. There was a single claw-foot tub, three lavatories, three commodes and three shower stalls. The men evidently had a tinybathroom down the hall, which was a rough indication of the usual ratio between men and women.
    Lathering her hair, she wondered if Silver culled through the applicants, deliberately choosing the ones he wanted to include. Using what criterion, she wondered. She hadn’t been particularly surprised to see so few men. The surprising thing had been that so many of the women were over fifty. It only solidified her suspicion that he was far more interested in money than in sex or romance.
    On the other hand, he’d been hanging all over Suzy at supper tonight. At this point Suzy was more interested in Ben Hunter, but maybe that didn’t mean she wouldn’t cooperate for the good of the mission. Lumber money was as good as pickle money, especially when the only heir just happened to be an attractive daughter of marriageable age.
    It never occurred to Maggie to consider herself a candidate. Her father sold insurance. He didn’t own the company—didn’t even manage the three-man agency, which was one of the reasons Maggie had attended a community college instead of university; why she’d gone to work for a pittance at the Suburban Record until she could get a real job at the Twin-City Journal. Even in-state tuition cost a fortune, and besides, her father needed her at home. Left to himself he’d have ended up eating bacon and eggs and real butter and drinking four-percent milk in spite of knowing better.
    Before her mother had left they’d dined more often than not on things like tofu, tahini and soybeans in one form or another. Maggie had joined her father in pigging out on junk food between meals, but now thatshe was older she had settled on a more moderate path. Whole-grain, low-fat, with lots of fresh fruit and vegetables. If she occasionally backslid when she was away from home, that was nobody’s business but her own. As long as she had only one functional parent, she fully intended to keep him that way. Let her mother go on drifting from one mushroom field to another, playing her zither, smoking pot and remembering every six months or so that she still had a family back east. Fortunately, Maggie had inherited a broad streak of