Page 28 of Stroked
I nodded, and James left my office to go make sure everything was fine in the gallery.
Contemplating what he said, a small grin crept over my face. It had been so long since I felt any kind of emotion for anyone, outside of lust. And that turned to shit fast. The so-called butterflies were turning to knots as I thought about my college girlfriend.
But that was a long time ago. I heard that she actually calmed down and was now married and they had adopted a baby. Maybe she was just young and volatile. It’s not like Lucy and I were saints in college, or high school, for that matter. People change and grow up. Look at Lucy. Engaged, living with a man, not one but two dream jobs, and a song picked up by a label. Definitely a long way from Jaeger bombs at The Lounge five years ago.
Still, I hadn’t had any sickness, knots, or butterflies in years, and I had been with plenty of women. Why was this one able to get under my skin?
I drank the rest of the coffee and logged onto the computer to check emails and get caught up on messages before the artist arrived. I had to do something to occupy my mind besides replay the last three nights.
???
Five o’clock was finally closing in, so I stood and donned my blazer before walking to the full-length mirror in my office. I had a plain but professional pant suit in a shade of navy with a cream top. I would save The Suit for the soft opening. It was silly, but Lucy and I shared a black suit that somehow, we both fit into but only used it for special things like job interviews. She was going to wear it to court a few months ago for good luck, but she didn’t, and shit hit the fan. It all worked out eventually, but I wasn’t tempting fate like she did.
After a quick turn to check myself, I was satisfied with the look and headed to the door. Before I made it, James was coming in.
“Oh good, you’re ready. They'll be here soon, and I know you’ll want to do a last check.”
“James, you are too good.” We started walking out to the gallery through the short corridor. I glanced around once we made it to the large atrium.
I slowed my gait and James handed me my clipboard. I looked over the plans as I walked the space. It was hard not to linger on each piece. All so colorful and vibrant, full of life. Making it around the full space, I turned with a stoic face. Several of the employees were waiting in the corner and James was only steps from me.
“Gentlemen, it’s perfect.” A collective sigh of relief floated through the open space and the men dispersed, except for James.
“You aresucha bitch for that.”
I grinned. “I know. But I have to display a sense of authority and confidence.”
James gently pushed my shoulder before heading to the reception area. He turned before he went through the doors. “When I come back, I should have the artist with me. You ready, Ms. Lindsey?”
I straightened my posture and lifted my chin. “I’m ready.”
I stood among the beautiful art, awaiting the artist. I kept my stance firm and was ready with a slight smile. Nothing too obnoxious, but enough to not look like a bitch. I needed to seem welcoming but professional. I had only met the client in person one other time, and she was kind, even if her warm but demanding spirit filled the space. She needed to know she was working with someone of similar nature.
After several minutes, James came through the door with a beautiful woman. Her dress was as colorful as her art and her silky black hair fell down her back. Her brown eyes with thick lashes lit up as she got closer.
“Amy, how wonderful to see you again.” She leaned in and grabbed my shoulders, placing a kiss on both cheeks. “How wonderful is this?” She waved an arm in the air around the room, still holding one of my shoulders with the other.
“Ms. Santos, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Shall we?” I turned my body to invite her to look around.
“I told you before, call me Maria. Ms. Santos is mySogra. Oh, how do you say…mother-in-law.” She grimaced.
I chuckled, and Maria threaded her arm into mine, so I led her around to show her the display.
“I hope you enjoy what we did here. It was an honor to put this together. I love the shades. It makes me want to go toCarnaval.”
“You did wonderful. So many details and touches to compliment my pieces. I absolutely love it! This must have been an undertaking.”
I nodded. “Yes, but a labor of love. I am so blessed you allowed our gallery to show your work.”
She patted my arm with her free hand. Such a warm and motherly woman. One I would imagine would have been fun growing up with. My own mother was amazing but didn’t care for creating art and was more uptight, not as flowy and jovial as Maria.
We walked through the entire display, arm in arm, and she made comments about her work. In turn, I explained my admiration for each one. The conversation was easy and I found myself rather enjoying her company.
“Amy, I love everything about the exhibit. I am so pleased. I suppose I will see you back here tomorrow, and the next day!” Maria grabbed my shoulders and kissed both cheeks again. “I have to go fight this traffic.”
“Oh, good luck. I do it every day. It’s terrible. But I love this space so much.”
I walked Maria to the front and the receptionist pulled Maria’s bag from behind the counter.
