Page 29 of Dirty Money
She moved closer, closer, then stopped to pretend to admire a sculpture, so she didn’t look like a total creeper. Aullie had never really understood the huge craze about sculptures made from garbage, but that one, in particular, was kind of neat, lots of coffee filter flowers.
Aullie walked backward, very slowly, pretending to just admire a wall of art from afar. Plus, all Weston would see, if he looked, was a skinny girl with black hair. There were a lot of those, he wouldn’t necessarily know it was her.
‘This is crazy’, Aullie’s conscience nagged her. Her drunken mind won out, though and she continued her slow and potentially insane venture toward a man she shouldn’t want to see, just to hear what made him so angry.
Surprisingly, she was close enough to hear their hushed tones. She considered a painting on the wall angled near them. It wasn’t particularly moving, but it wasn’t like it mattered.
“You fucking bastard! You absolute imbecile!” Weston spat angrily. Aullie hadn’t heard him swear that way before and his accent somehow made it sound even meaner. “I gave you very specific instructions, and I want a very good reason why you didn’t follow them.”
“Well, uh…,” the man mumbled.
Weston cut him off. “You know what? I don’t even want your stupid bloody excuses. Handle this, now, or I promise it will not turn out well for you.”
The other man, an ugly, chubby man with close-cropped dark hair and a hint of a Queens’s accent dropped his head in submission. “I’ll get it handled.”
“You fuckin’ bloody well better,” Weston growled.
Is this how he is when he’s working? Aullie thought, horrified. It probably took a decent amount of aggression and discipline to do the things he did, but damn, that was mean.
Aullie walked away then, she’d heard enough. Weston had proven himself to be a liar and really, she shouldn’t have even been surprised that he would be so two-faced.
When she found Troy and Maggie again, Maggie exclaimed, “There you are!”
“Yeah, sorry,” Aullie apologized. “Had to run to the bathroom real quick.”
“Hey, when nature calls,” Maggie said with a shrug.
Aullie gave her best fake laugh for the lame joke and they continued their tour. As they walked away from her exhibit, she glanced back one more time.
Still no red stickers.
Art was discussed, people were met, hands were shaken, and truthfully Aullie was exhausted. Not only from all the social contact but because she couldn’t stop looking for Weston.
Why was he there? Was this like that night at work, where he was going to confront her and manipulate her into another date?
Truthfully, it seemed like some kind of weird coincidence, especially given his attire and the strangely aggressive conversation she had overheard. She was not only confused but obsessed.
She wanted so badly for him not to see her, and almost equally badly for him to see her. Her conflicted emotions left her intensely paranoid and her peripheral vision was working overtime to make sure he didn’t sneak up on her.
It was only nine-thirty and the show ran until eleven. ‘Damn all those crazy artsy night owls’, Aullie grumbled, hypocritically.
This is going to be a long night.
Aullie was drunk. Too much free champagne had her mind foggy and she wandered around the gigantic maze of a showroom. The paintings, all the bright colors seemed to blur together and it was very overwhelming. She was looking for her new friends, but couldn’t find them anywhere.
‘Oh well’, Aullie thought, swigging from her sixth or seventh glass of bubbly.
Wasn’t there something else she should be looking for?
‘Oh yeah’, she realized.
Weston!
She hadn’t seen her tuxedoed stalker since the strange incident with him earlier and figured he had probably gone home. It hadn’t really seemed like he was there for the art anyway. So, what was he there for?
Aullie truly had no ideas. She was growing bored with the show, sure there was plenty of art and expressions to contemplate and all that stuff, but between Gerald’s surprise kiss and Weston’s random appearance, Aullie was far off her game and exhausted.
‘I’m going home’, she decided. She was probably in no shape to be driving and she was sure apologetic little Gerald wouldn’t mind either driving her home or holding her paintings until the next day, so she wouldn’t have to pack them all up before the show was over. She just had to find him first.
