“In what way?” Sassy asked, curious about the mysterious man who clearly had her unflappable executive assistant so smitten.
“He’s kind of soft-spoken.”
“He’sshy?” Sassy asked with a catty grin.
“More reserved. Not city at all. Though he is more cultured and refined than…” She rolled her eyes toward the clutch of man-boys in too-tight jeans ogling them from the next table. “Well,them.”
“So what’re the odds of him scaring easily?”
Soledad calculated them silently then gave her a nervous glance. “Fifty-fifty. Things between us are still a little new. But, Sassy, Ireallylike him.”
“I can see that.” Sassy wanted to be happy for her. However, Soledad’s effusiveness amplified Sassy’s knee-jerk tendencies toward caution. If this guy broke her friend’s heart, she was going to have to pay to fix her Bronco just so she could run him over with proper mud tires.
“Oh, here he is now,” Soledad hissed. She beamed, waving through the bystanders.
Sassy’s first impression of Fletcher was that he was tall—tall enough to play in the NBA.Does Soledad have to climb him just to get to first base?she wondered wryly as Soledad bounced up and greeted him with a kiss he had to bend nearly halfway over to receive. His hair was shaved close to the scalp, and, oddly enough, he wore a suit minus the tie with the first button of his shirt undone, perhaps to combat the formality of his outfit choice in the decidedly informal environment.
When he stood up straight again and met Sassy’s gaze, she received a jolt. His eyes were icepick blue, piercing enough to be disconcerting yet fascinating. He might be a city boy, but he had a Nordic vibe going on. And if Sassy wasn’t mistaken…he looked a touch familiar. In the time it took him to reach the table and set his and Soledad’s new drinks down, Sassy tried to chase the déjà vu to its source.
It eluded her. If she’d seen him before, he’d certainly have been hard to forget.
“Sassy Colton,” Soledad presented, “meet Fletcher Ryder.”
“Fletcher,” she acknowledged, holding out her hand.
He hesitated minutely, just long enough for Sassy to pick up on the wariness lurking underneath the Thor, God of Thunder, thing he had going for him, sans hair.
“I don’t bite,” she assured him. Glancing sidelong at Soledad, she grinned and added, “Much.”
Soledad laughed. One corner of Fletcher’s mouth tipped up before he grasped her hand and held it without shaking it. His grip was anything but soft, however. She could feel the calluses on his fingers and palms. A metalworker, she mused, who didn’t bother with gloves in spite of his spit and polish. She could see why Soledad would be drawn to him. The man was an enigma.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he said.
“He speaks,” Sassy said, then winked to soften the blow of her teasing. He hadn’t let go of her hand. “Soledad says you’re from Moab.”
“Yes,” he said. He seemed to realize he hadn’t let go of her and released her hand suddenly, taking a step back.
When he said nothing more, she rubbed her lips together before asking, “And this is your first time in Dark Canyon?”
“It is,” he answered succinctly. Soledad linked her arm around his waist, drawing him closer to her. He seemed to soften, draping a long arm around her in return.
“I showed her some photos of your pieces,” Soledad told him. “I hope you don’t mind. She doesn’t just run Zephyr. She’s a visual arts agent.”
He seemed unsure what to say for a moment. “I don’t mind,” he said to Soledad in an undertone before forcing his attention back to Sassy. “There’s enough artists in a small town like Dark Canyon for representation?”
“You’d be surprised how many the community of Dark Canyon has fostered through the years,” Sassy pointed out. “But I don’t just represent local crafts folk. A lot of my artists are from the Navajo Nation. Others are as far away as Provo. I represent female and Indigenous artists.”
He shook his head, a shade of amusement touching his expression. “I’m neither Navajo nor a woman.”
“No, but the pieces Soledad showed me piqued my interest.”
His wide brows shot up. He stared blankly at her for a handful of seconds. “Did they?”
She nodded. “Soledad and I have an auction coming up. A charity fundraiser to raise money for the Colton Foundation. I’ll need to acquire at least five more pieces to round out the collection for bidding. I could include one of your sculptures. If it does well at the auction, we could discuss an exhibition. Unless you’re promised to another gallery.”
“N-no,” he stammered. To see such a large man flummoxed was almost endearing. Soledad thought so, too. She smiled softly and placed a hand on his arm, running her nails up his sleeve and back down. “I’ve, uh, never had a showing,” he admitted.
“A virgin?” Sassy wondered if he’d picked up metalwork more recently. The caliber of his sculpting skills and his calluses said otherwise.Indeed, an enigma.
