Illusions Complete Series Read Online Free PDF

above it. Upon closer observation, I realized that it was a Thomas Hart Benton original. Oh, shit.
    He saw me looking at the mural. “I got that from my parents. Tom was a friend of my father’s.”
    Well, Benton did grow up and make his art in the Kansas City area, and Ryan’s father was very prominent in Kansas City business, so that makes some sense. “Yes, my father also knew a local artist,” I said, stupidly. “Her name was Marjorie Holman. She did two portraits of my sister and me.” As if Marjorie Holman could match up to Thomas Hart Benton.
    The rest of the living room appeared as if an interior decorator had designed it. And, of course, there was nothing out of place. I wondered if he ever let his dishes pile up for three days, as I remembered my three day stack of dishes still in my tiny sink.
    “Here, make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing to an empty stool next to the kitchen island. I observed the pots and pans above my head. They were copper-bottomed, and looked very professional. I wondered if this guy could really cook.
    He opened up a bottle of wine. “I hope you like this.”
    I sipped the wine. It was smooth, full-bodied and fruity. It was very good. “I like this. Where did you get this?”
    He looked a bit embarrassed. “I, I, I, um…” It was his turn to stutter. He turned bright red. “Listen, Iris, I don’t want you to feel intimidated here. I guess I should have warned you about the Benton.”
    Yes, but what does the Benton have to do with this wine?
    I looked at him, puzzled.
    “I really like you. I mean, I reallllllyy dig you. I don’t want to scare you away.”
    I looked at my wine, taking another sip. Very tasty. I looked up at him, expectantly. He was acting very strange. He had been so confident before.
    He took a deep breath. “I actually, uh, I actually own a winery in Italy.” The “own a winery in Italy” was mumbled so softly, as he looked down at the floor, so I had to ask him to repeat it. Which he did.
    I nodded my head. Well, that makes sense. What is so wrong with that? I looked at him, furrowing my brow, wondering why he was so embarrassed about that. “My dream man!” I joked.
    He looked relieved. The color returned to his face. I guessed that I was getting to where nothing would surprise me anymore about this guy. He told me last night that he went to Harvard for his undergrad, and Oxford for his MBA. He also told me that his father was a CEO for a major utility company in town. Plus, he owned a Benton mural. Owning a winery went perfectly with this guy.
    He smiled. “You surprise me sometimes.”
    I smiled back. “I do? How?”
    “Well, last night, you seemed so nervous around me. I, I, uh, kinda get the feeling that you might not be used to… things. But the Benton and the winery didn’t seem to phase you.”
    “Yes, I guess maybe I’m getting more comfortable around you somehow.”
    He smiled “That’s great.” Then he kissed me tenderly, while longingly stroking my face.
    “I’m gonna steal that painting, just so you know. Benton is actually one of my favorite artists.”
    “Mine too. It’s only fitting to have his art in my house, since he’s such a large part of this area.”
    I nodded, then suddenly realized how badly I needed to use the restroom. “I need to use the little girl’s room,” I said with sudden urgency in my voice.
    “Around the hall to your right.”
    After returning from the restroom, I felt a little more queasy. Thomas Hart Benton was one thing. de Kooning was another, and he had an original de Kooning in the hallway leading to the bathroom.
    Good lord, this guy has millions hanging on his wall.
    He looked a little sheepish. “I guess you saw the de Kooning, too, huh?”
    I smiled, nodding slowly. “Pour me some more of that Italian wine.” Lord knows I need some now.
    Whatever he was cooking smelled divine. It was clam sauce, with a little butter, wine and garlic. He brought out a freshly baked loaf of