Page 93 of Pining for Pierce
I study him as he walks back. He’s nothing like Kaiden. His hair is much darker, for one thing, as are his eyes. He’s a well-built man, who clearly takes care of himself, though, and as he leads me out of the lobby, through a door at the back, marked ‘Private’, I decide it’s best to make conversation.
“I haven’t been here for a while,” I say as we head down a wide, well-lit corridor. “But I see you’ve made a lot of changes.”
He looks at me over his shoulder, giving me a smile. “We had the entire place re-modeled about four years ago.” He opens a door to his right, pausing on the threshold. “It was a risk, but it’s paid off.”
I nod my head, passing through the door, which he closes behind us, and I look around the room, which seems to be his office, although it’s not like any office I’ve ever been in before. There’s a desk, I’ll admit, but it’s white, as is the chair behind it. That’s nowhere near as striking as the walls, though, one of which is bright orange, while another is a dark teal. That ought to be overpowering, but it works, because the colors are broken up by the windows, and the placement of a few abstract paintings… and the fact that the remaining two walls are white.
The furniture is just as brightly colored, and my eyes fall on a set of armchairs. There’s one in shocking pink, another in orange, another bright yellow and the final one in cyan. They’reset around a low coffee table, over by the biggest of the windows, and it’s there that Mr. Bowman leads me.
“Take a seat,” he says, selecting the yellow chair for himself.
I choose the orange one, which is opposite, and while Mr. Bowman unfastens his jacket, making himself comfortable, I cross one leg over the other, resting my hand on my knee. That puts my tattoos firmly on display, and while I’m not sure that’s a good idea, it’s too late now. Besides, Harley told me to be myself, so why not?
“I’m sorry for contacting you out of the blue,” Mr. Bowman says. “But I’ll be honest with you… we’ve got a problem.”
“Oh?” I hadn’t expected that, and I uncross my legs, sitting forward.
“Yes. We’ve had an artist pull out of an exhibition, and we’re looking to fill the gap.”
I can’t help feeling disappointed, but I do my best to hide it. “Is that where I come in?” I ask.
He nods his head. “I saw your work on your social media page, and I thought you’d make the perfect replacement.”
“I see.”
He shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like that,” he says, as though he’s read my mind, sensing my disappointment. “I didn’t even realize you were out there, doing what you do, but now I’ve found you, I’d have asked you to exhibit here anyway… just later in our schedule. The thing is, as you’re local, I thought you might be able to help us.”
“I’ve never done an exhibition before,” I say, feeling a little less insulted now he’s explained the situation. “What would be involved?”
He smiles. “We’re looking to fill our main gallery for a month.”
“The main gallery? But that’s enormous… or it is if it’s the one I remember.”
“It is. We haven’t changed it… at least, not in terms of its size. That’s why I need to ask how many canvasses you have available.”
I wish I’d thought to count them now, but I give it a moment’s thought and say, “I guess somewhere between thirty and forty. Some are a lot bigger than others.”
“The bigger the better,” he says, smiling. “Do you think you could come up with a few more?”
“That depends. When were you thinking of holding this exhibition?”
“It’s due to start July first.”
My stomach churns. “Just over a month away?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Not in terms of the paintings I already have, but in terms of adding any more, it could be.”
“Oh?”
“I might be able to come up with two or three in that time.”
He looks disappointed. “Is that all?”
“I only have the weekends to paint… and by weekends, I mean Sundays.”
He frowns. “You mean you work the rest of the time?”
