He stood and extended his hand. "I should have recognized you right away. I've been following the Stars for years."
As the two men shook, Molly watched the temperamental artist turn into a football fan. "You had a pretty good season."
"Could have been better."
"I guess you can't win them all."
As the conversation turned to the Stars, Molly gazed at the three of them. What an odd group of people to have come together in this isolated place. A football player, an artist, and a movie star.
Here on Gilligan's Isle.
She smiled and took the plates from Kevin, who seemed to be enjoying the conversation, then plopped them on a tray and delivered them to the dining room. Luckily there were no complaints about the eggs. She filled two mugs from the coffee urn, picked up an extra cream and sugar, and carried it all back to the kitchen.
Kevin was leaning against the pantry door ignoring Lilly while he spoke to Jenner. "… heard in town that lots of people are visiting Wind Lake hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Apparently you've been a boon to local tourism."
"Not by choice." Jenner took the coffee Molly set in front of him and leaned back in his chair. He looked easy in his skin, she thought. Solidly built, a little grizzled, an artist disguised as a rugged outdoorsman. "As soon as word got around that I'd built a house here, all kinds of idiots started showing up."
Lilly accepted the spoon Molly handed her and began stirring her coffee. "You don't seem to think much of your admirers, Mr. Jenner."
"They're impressed by my fame, not my work. They start babbling about how they're so honored to meet me, but three-quarters of them wouldn't know one of my paintings if it bit 'em on the ass."
As one who'd babbled, Molly couldn't let that pass. "Mamie in Earnest, painted in 1968, a very early watercolor." She poured out the batter onto the griddle. "An emotionally complex work with a deceptive simplicity of line. Tokens, painted around 1971, a dry brush watercolor. The critics hated it, but they were wrong. From 1996 to 1998 you concentrated on acrylics with the Desert Series. Stylistically, those paintings are a pastiche-postmodern eclecticism, classicism, with a nod toward the Impressionists that only you could have pulled off."
Kevin smiled. "Molly's summa cum laude. Northwestern. She writes bunny books. My personal favorite of your paintings is a landscape-don't have a clue when you painted it or what the critics had to say about it-but there's this kid in the distance and I like it."
"I love Street Girl," Lilly said. "A solitary female figure on an urban street, worn-down red shoes, a hopeless expression on her face. Ten years ago it sold for twenty-two thousand dollars."
"Twenty-four."
"Twenty-two," she said smoothly. "I bought it."
For the first time Liam Jenner seemed to be at a loss for words. But not for long. "What do you do for a living?"
Lilly took a sip of coffee before she spoke. "I used to solve crimes."
Molly briefly debated letting Lilly's evasion go, but she was too curious to see what would happen. "This is Lilly Sherman, Mr. Jenner. She's quite a famous actress."
He leaned back in his chair and studied her before he finally murmured, "That silly poster. Now I remember. You were wearing a yellow bikini."
"Yes, well, the poster days are obviously long behind me."
"Praise God for that. The bikini was obscene."
Lilly looked surprised, then indignant. "There was nothing obscene about it. Compared to today it was modest."
His heavy brows drew together. "Covering your body with anything was obscene. You should have been nude."
"I'm outta here." Kevin headed back to the dining room.
Wild horses couldn't have dragged Molly from that kitchen, and she slipped a plate of pancakes in front of each of them.
"Nude?" Lilly's cup clattered into the saucer. "Not in this lifetime. I once passed up a fortune to pose for Playboy."
"What does Playboy have to do with it? I'm talking about art, not titillation." He tucked into the pancakes. "Excellent breakfast, Molly. Leave here and come cook for me."
"I'm actually a writer, not a cook."
"The children's books." His fork paused in midair. "I've thought about writing a children's book…" He speared one of Lilly's uneaten pancakes from her plate. "Probably not much of a market for my ideas."
Lilly sniffed. "Not if they involve nudes."
Molly giggled.
Jenner shot her a quelling gaze.
"Sorry." Molly bit her lip, then gave an unladylike snort.
Jenner's frown grew more ferocious. She was ready to apologize again when she spotted a small quiver at the corner of his mouth. So Liam Jenner wasn't quite the curmudgeon he pretended to be. This was getting more and more interesting.
He gestured toward Lilly's half-filled mug. "You can take that with you. What's left of your breakfast, too. We need to go."
"I never said I'd sit for you. I don't like you."
"Nobody does. And of course you'll sit for me." His voice deepened with sarcasm. "People stand in line for the honor."
"Paint Molly. Just look at those eyes."
Jenner studied her. Molly blinked self-consciously. "They're quite extraordinary," he said. "Her face is becoming interesting, but she hasn't lived in it long enough for it to be really fascinating."
"Hey, don't talk about me when I'm listening."
He lifted a dark eyebrow at Molly, then returned his attention to Lilly. "Is it just me, or are you this stubborn with everyone?"
"I'm not being stubborn. I'm simply protecting your reputation for artistic infallibility. Perhaps if I were twenty again, I'd pose for you, but-"
"Why would I be interested in painting you when you were twenty?" He seemed genuinely perplexed.
"Oh, I think that's obvious," Lilly said lightly.
He studied her for a moment, his expression difficult to read. Then he shook his head. "Of course. Our national obsession with emaciation. Aren't you a little old to be still buying into that?"
Lilly planted a perfect smile on her face as she got up from her chair. "Of course. Thank you for breakfast, Molly. Goodbye, Mr. Jenner."
His gaze followed her as she swept from the kitchen. Molly wondered if he noticed the tension she was carrying in her shoulders.
She left him to his own thoughts while he finished his coffee. Finally he picked up the plates from the table and carried them over to the sink. "Those were the best pancakes I've had in years. Tell me what I owe you."
"Owe me?"
"This is a commercial establishment," he reminded her.
"Oh, yeah. But there's absolutely no charge. It was my pleasure."
"I appreciate it." He turned to leave.
"Mr. Jenner."
"Just Liam."
She smiled. "Come for breakfast anytime you want. You can slip in through the kitchen."
He nodded slowly. "Thanks. I just might do that."
Chapter 14
"Come closer to the water, Daphne," Benny said. "I won't get you wet." Daphne Makes a Mess
"Any ideas for a new book?" Phoebe asked early the next afternoon over the phone.
An unwelcome subject, but since Molly had spent the first ten minutes of their conversation dodging Celia the Hen's nosy questions about Kevin, anything was an improvement. "A few. But remember that Daphne Takes a Tumble is the first book on a three-book contract. Birdcage won't accept another manuscript until I finish making the changes they want." No need to tell her sister she still hadn't started on those changes, although she'd borrowed Kevin's car after breakfast and gone into town to buy some art supplies.
"SKIFSA is a joke."
"Not a very funny one. I don't have a TV in the cottage. Have they popped up lately?"
"Last night. The new gay rights legislation in Congress has bought them a lot of local airtime." Phoebe's hesitation wasn't a good sign. "Moll, they mentioned Daphne again."