Page 25 of Make Me Scream

Tonight he wears a sharp, gray suit with a blue and gold, diagonally striped tie; it’s a bit formal for the gallery, but then again it is his show and he is a professor. I’m not complaining; he looks impossibly gorgeous.

“That’s Finders Keepers,” he explains, gesturing to the leather-clad woman. “She’s here to be played with, but she’ll get lost on her own, so she’ll wait for someone to show her around.”

Wow.

Tremors pulse within. Heat builds unbearably inside me.

I’d like to pretend it’s just Lane, but I’ve been churning since I entered the building. His painting of me, followed by the exhibits… It’s too much.

“And… uh… how am I supposed to… interpret that?” I ask.

“You’re asking the artist for a direct explanation of their intent?” he replies, a single, amused brow rising. “You know that’s frowned upon, Ms. Carpenter.”

Something tightens inside of me. “Ms. Carpenter” is what Professor Mundell would call me. Lane works at Mundell but he’s not my teacher.

“I do know, but I’m asking anyway, Professor,” I say, gesturing around at all the other exhibits. “I’d love to understand your process and how it resulted in this unique presentation.”

“It was a collaborative process, in fact. Galleria Carnale commissioned this program and hired me to put it on. Then I interviewed the models and talked to them about their lives.”

Lane points to the woman marked “Intern.”

“Take Darcy over there. She’s about your age, and she told me about her year as an intern in the financial sector. She said it was the most humiliating experience of her life.”

Darcy loses her footing and swings freely by her wrists for a moment until her toes make contact with the stage. Her predicament draws muffled laughter from the gallery audience, and her cheeks redden.

“So this, in comparison, is not as bad,” Lane finishes.

Huh. It’s a nice sentiment, I’ll give him that. There’s one problem, though.

“Okay. I like it, but how are people supposed to know this was your intent?”

“Well, that’s a person, not a painting. You could try asking her,” he says.

Oh. It didn’t occur to me that she was allowed to speak. I wouldn’t have thought…

Maybe that’s part of the idea.

Despite myself, I stare at the “intern.” Is she enjoying this state she’s in, or is it just a welcome escape from that terrible job? I suppose it can be both.

“I have to thank you, Gwen.”

“Oh?”

Lane nods.

“You saw the painting out front?”

“Of course. It was hard to miss, and… I thought it was beautiful.”

“Thank you. Artistically, I think it’s much stronger than anything in here. I’m proud of these pieces, but I did them as a favor to the gallery. I painted ‘Awakening’ because I felt inspired — thanks to you.”

I was right. That was me.

“You’re… you’re welcome. And thank you — it’s a lovely work. It’s an honor to have… been involved, I guess.”

“You weren’t disturbed by it?” asks Lane.

I laugh.

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