Page 44 of Fang to Rights

“I’m really not at liberty to disclose. However, if you did want to be on the show as a normal guest, you can fill out a form online to apply.”

“Apply?” he laughed, shaking his head. “Honey, look. I’m not interested in ‘applying.’ I’m a very talented artist with a huge following. Okay? I don’t need to ‘apply’ anywhere when you can just have me on your show.”

Olivia felt her face scrunch up. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he actually serious?

She gave him a once over, his confident tone never wavering. Neither did his stare. She made a mental note about his name, knowing exactly what she was going to do if it ever appeared in her inbox.

Delete and block. That’s what.

The only thing she could really do, though, was give the man a placid smile.

“Sure, all right. Well, I need to head inside, so have a good day.”

She brushed him away and slid her keys into the studio door, unlocking it while he continued to hover. If he was still loitering around her place in an hour, she’d call the cops and have him removed. She didn’t want to feel like a prisoner in her own place because she didn’t want to confront him again.

“You’ll let him know?”

She felt her brow raise, turning with her hand still wrapped around her door handle.

“Who, Darrow?”

“Yeah. When I send you my app, you’ll give him my contact info.”

Is this guy actually serious…?

“As I said, we’re not in contact.”

The man … Philodendron … let out a frustrated sound.

“Look, just send it his way. I’ve already tried getting in contact with his office, and no one’s gotten back to me. He needs to represent me. I’ve got some things in the works that are going to blow the art world’s mind.”

He put a hand on the door frame, leaning over to fix her with a look.

“You understand that, don’t you?”

She felt herself frown. “I … guess.”

“You interview my kind of people all the time. You know when you smell talent.”

She sighed a little. This was the problem with working within the art world sometimes. You had the habit of running into the over-the-top braggers who thought that their works were god’s gift. As annoying as it was to deal with, it also made it hard for Olivia to take those kinds of people seriously.

“Sure. Right. Well, I need to get inside.”

Without waiting for another word from him, Olivia quickly ripped open her door and snuck into her studio, shutting and locking the door behind her in one swift motion. Thankfully the man didn’t try to barge in after her. Merely stared through the gossamer curtain-covered windows.

“You’ll give him my contact info, right!” he yelled through the door.

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

You know what, I’ll give him a half-hour before I call the cops.

Shaking her head, Olivia set her bag on her guest couch. She looked around her studio space, taking in her podcast set up as well as the small art station she had tucked away in the corner that was separated by a wooden partition. Overhead, the skylights on the roof provided nice clean lighting.

She put her hands on her hips and let herself finally start to settle down. She didn’t want to go back to her apartment anytime soon. She didn’t want to see the evidence left over from her tryst with Henry and the aftermath that she’d need to clean up once she got back.

It would only make her heart hurt, and she just wasn’t ready for that. She wanted to stay in her anger a little bit longer.

Looking over at her computer, she decided that emails came first, and then she’d go about trying to distract herself by making some art. A solid plan for the rest of her shitty day.

At least it can’t get any worse than this.

---