Page 62 of Fight

He was dressed professionally—in a dark gray suit and black tie. Maybe that’s why it was so cold in the room? He sure was wearing a lot of clothes for almost July. Regardless, he had an air of authority that immediately made Lena jump to attention.

He looked at her suspiciously as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Taking a deep breath, she recovered from the shock. Plastering a smile on her face, she held out a hand. “Hi! Yes—sorry! I came to drop off my submission for the mural in the town square. I thought the website said to drop it off here, but there’s no one here?” Lena drew out the statement as a question as she redirected her empty hand, which he’d left hanging awkwardly in the air, to gesture toward the empty receptionist’s desk.

“Ah,” the man said, his features softening slightly as he nodded his head in understanding. “We’ve been having…trouble…keeping a receptionist and I didn’t hear you come in. Is that it?” he asked bluntly, pointing to the portfolio she held under her arm.

“Oh, yes,” she said as she handed him her portfolio. She cringed as he roughly opened the portfolio she’d make from a poster board and masking tape, wrenching out the thick sheet of canvas paper.

Placing it on top of her portfolio, he held it up roughly, his face softening as he took at the painting. Now that she wasn’t as mopey about losing her job, she kind of regretted not using the oranges and pinks for the background like she’d originally planned, but she was still pleased with the darker purples and blues. She’d accented the painting with light touches of pink yesterday as she’d lazed around her room with Jake. The darker colors proved to be a nice contrast to the brighter white, cadmium, and aquamarine colors she’d used to paint the Conrad landmarks.

The darker colors reminded her of Jake’s eyes as she was now well into infatuation mode after their day spent together yesterday, laying around in her bed and talking. They’d escaped for a brief visit to the Golden Carafe for brunch, but had quickly returned to…other activities.

Lena felt herself start to blush at the thought of Jake as she watched the man in front of her expectantly. He abruptly turned his back on her, carried the painting to the receptionist’s desk and dropped it down roughly before leaning on his hands to look at it thoughtfully, his dark eyes threatening to burn a hole through the paper, his dark hair falling artfully in front of his face.

The western wear store’s door dinged as multiple people came and went below them, but still he didn’t move from studying the painting.Does this mean he likes it? Hates it? Wait a minute, who is this guy?

“Who are you…by the way?” Lena squeaked out inarticulately, as she moved to stand in front of the desk.

He looked up from studying her artwork to issue her a long, annoyed glare before looking back down.“Kyle Bear,” he mumbled to her painting.

“Oh, I’ve heard of you!” Lena said excitedly, loosely waving her hand in his direction. “My…friend, Jake Lewis, told me you were president of the Civic Association. I didn’t know I’d meet thepresidentcoming here.” She laughed nervously as he continued to stare down at the painting, unaffected.

“Jake from the resort?” he asked, finally looking up again, his eyes narrowing as if she’d said something suspicious.

“Yeah,” Lena confirmed warily, not wanting to talk about the resort.

“Ian Conrad’s little buddy?” he pressed further, his deep deep voice twisting a bit with the question.

“Er, well, I wouldn’t exactly call him little,” Lena hedged as she pulled her face back in a thoughtful grimace.

“Yeah, I know him,” Kyle confirmed dismissively before looking down at her artwork again.

Okay, then—is that a bad thing? Lena shifted her wide eyes down the floor as she shifted her weight back on her heels, waiting for additional judgment from this very serious man. Seconds that felt like hours passed before he finally decided to speak again.

“This is really good.” He seemed to admit it almost reluctantly as he pointed a blunt finger down to where her picture lay on the desk.

“Thanks,” she responded, a warm glow rising inside of her. “So I can leave my submission with you? My contact information is written on my portfolio.”

He considered her discerningly, his gaze literally burrowing into her brain and making her wiggle around inside her skin.

Coming from behind the desk, he slid the painting back in the portfolio and walked over to stand in front of her again, causing her to inch back. She watched miserably as he held the portfolio straight in both hands in front of his chest, banging his fingers on it methodically as he studied her—she felt like a bug under a microscope.

“Did you see that?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of her as he stopped slapping around her portfolio and pointed in the direction of the bulletin board behind her.

“What?” Lena asked confusedly looking around the room.

“Blue piece of paper,” he said shortly. “Go get it and bring it here.”

“Oh. Okay,” Lena inexplicably complied with his peculiar order, taking hurried steps to the bulletin board.What is happening?

Pulling the blue flier down from the board without looking at it, she rushed back and held it out for him with an eager smile.

“Why don’t you read it?” he suggested with a dispassionate frown, not taking the flier from her hand.

“Right,” Lena said as she looked down at the blue paper, hot embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She could feel his eyes boring into her on the other side of the thin sheet of paper as all thoughts of being cold abandoned her. Had she ever met a more intimidating person? He could give Cynthia a run for her money.

Shaking her head and focusing on the piece of paper, Lena saw it was the same “Lake Conrad Community Theater and Art House” paper from earlier. It was…a job advertisement? Who advertised for a job on a flier posted in an empty room?

“A teaching artist?” Lena questioned, looking up at Kyle.

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