Chapter 4

I open my eyes again. Beside each of my paintings is a small red disk. My eyes move from one to the other.

There disks in all. Not equivocal half disks.

Not this painting is perhaps spoken for.

But full flaming red suns.

Sold.

Follow the bouncing red ball and sing along: sold! Sold! Sold!

The song is clanging sweetly in my head in time to the rushing blood in my veins till  I hear Marion laughing behind me.

Mrs koloski comes lumbering out of her office and says into my ear;  " you made a fuckin sale. About time, don't you think.

Come." She leads me into her office.

" His name is Logan Hunter." Mrs koloski lights a cigarette, wheezes into a hanky and wipes her chin. She leans back in her chair. She was once a vouge model. She was the belle dame sans merci  of beat poets and abstract expressonists.

Now she's two hundred and eighty pounds, tough skinned and nasty when she needs to be.

In her shaggy quack of a voice, she tells me.

" He's some fancy bestselling author from New York, he knows his shit. I've heard about him, he buys art for resale to foreign collectors.

He came in here, stared at your paintings for five minutes, came in here and handed me a check for twenty four thousand dollars, of which twelve is yours."

I squeal like a pig, clapping my hands over my mouth.

I'm so excited, I might just end up creaming my jeans.

Mrs koloski smiles and shakes her head.

" You might want to save some of that excitement for when you meet him. He's quite a delicious looking man,makes you want to gobble him up." She cackles with laughter.

" He told me he wants to work with you." She continues.

" What does that mean?"

" You'll be dealing directly with him, but do me a favor, don't screw me." She says handing me a check for twelve thousand dollars.

I'm unmoored. Afloat. I talk with Mrs koloski for a few more minutes, but I hardly know I'm saying.

I've got twelve thousand dollars in my backpacking. I've got more money coming. I've got a career.

I kiss Mrs koloski goodbye and then Marion.

I find myself in the elevator and then the lobby, and amid swirls of fresh air, I step out onto the street. Sunlight jumps off the sidewalks. I've got twelve thousand dollars in my purse and my head is stuffed with cotton, the utter incomparable bliss of success.

" Layla McDermott?"

I turn.

It's the man with the gothic cheekbones. I feel my heart give a thud as I look into his gorgeous face.

He says;

" By the time I realized it was you,  I was all the way to Bloom street and I had to stop to make a call. But I ran back here as fast as I could."

His charming lopsided smile sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

" I'm glad I caught you." He says.

I look at him quizzically.

" I'm Logan Hunter." He tells her.

My patron 

This gorgeous hunk is my patron.

" I bought some of your work." He tells her.

" Yeah," she mumbles. " I have a…. um." She swallows neverously.

" I have a check in my purse."

She feels like the youngest and simplest sister in a fairy tale.

At the wind up, with her pockets stuffed with gold.

" I'm interested in buying more of your work, I look forward to a profitable relationship for both of us." He says.

" How did you know me, we haven't met before, have we?" I ask in a stutter.

" Mrs koloski showed me your picture. In the catalog."

" Ohh."

" It does not do you Justice."

She forgets to say thank you. She simply nods and lowers her eyes.

" I would like to talk about to you, about future business opportunities. Would you have time for lunch?"

" Now?"

He keeps looking at me.

I look at my watch, I have to be at work in an hour. I'm sorely tempted to say to hell with work and go have lunch with this breath taking hunk of a man, besides I have twelve thousand dollars in my backpack.

But I can't do that, I can't disappoint my boss this way.

She took a chance on me when I desperately needed a job.

" I'm sorry." I say. 

" I have to be at Pasadena by two. I have the afternoon shift at work."

He groans.

" Well I wouldn't want to make you late. How about dinner?"

" Dinner?" I echo.

" Yes tonight." He says.

" Tonight?" I echo again.

Dammit. I sound like a stupid dolt.

His gorgeous face has so fried my brain that I can't even think legibly.

         ****************************************

Rahman is sitting on my bed, warily watching me as I get ready for my date.

" Let me get this right?" He says as I brush my hair.

" You just met him today, right." He asks.

" Yes."

" And you're going to have dinner with him."

" Yes."

" In his house."

" Yes."

" Are you sure you're alright." He asks in an exasperated voice.

" Yes."

" Wallahi, you tell me yes in that tone, one more time Layla McDermott, you might just end up being the first woman I ever hit."

  I chuckle as I set down my hair brush.

" There really is no need to get worked up. It's just a business meeting."

" A business meeting."

" Yes." I say, picking up a tube of lipstick.

" To talk about my art."

He archs a brow at me.

" You're all dressed up  for a business meeting."

I roll my eyes at him through my dressing mirror.

" I have to look professional." I say primly.

" You're wearing a dress." He says.

" you never wear a dress, I had to nag and badger you into wearing one for your interview for Caltech."

"The business meeting can always take a detour." I say with a wink.

" Layla." He groans.

" This is no joke, you just met him for fuck's sake." He says running his hands through his hair in frustration.

" He could be a human trafficker for all you know.

You could find yourself in a Mexican slave camp, by ten tomorrow morning."

" Mexican slave camp huh?

I've always wanted to visit Mexico."

He glares at me.

" I ain't joking."

" Come on Rahman, he's a best selling author not a human trafficker.

I assure you,he's a perfect gentleman."

" Other victims probably thought their captors were also perfect gentleman."

" I'll text you his address if that'll help settle your nerves.

I'll see you tomorrow." I Pause.

" Unless you want to walk me down to the cab stand." 

He scowls at me.

" I mean since, you're so worried about my safety." I say fluttering my lashes.

" You sure are quite an annoying young woman."  He says.

" Yeah, but you love me and all my annoying behavior." I say poking him in the ribs.

" Like hell." He grins.