She gasped as broken brush fell to the ground; unable to believe that she’d actually just snapped one of her precious few brushes.
“Oh no,” she whispered, staring down at in a panic.
From behind her, Tristan leaned forward and picked up the two pieces, handing them back to her. She once more inspected his hands, wanting to be sure it was him, and sure enough, those were the hands of her greatest rival.
“You should be more careful,” he scolded, placing the pieces in her open palm. “Do you have another?”
Ophelia nodded, too scared to speak, and reached for a replacement brush from her crate, and began again.
Ophelia let out a soft sigh as she put down her brush; done with her work. Her tense body twitched with the tightness of her posture; sending jolts of irritating pain down her shoulders, back and jaw. Usually when she worked the entire world fell away and she was enveloped with a sense of peace, but in this unique circumstance, try as she might, Ophelia could not reach such peace for many reasons.
“Ladies,” Tristan said from behind her, “Would you give us some privacy please?”
The four women on the bed stretched out of their poses, and did not bother to get dressed before they formed a single line to walk toward Ophelia and Tristan.
“Pretty,” the blonde said, nodding at the painting before heading to the door.
“My breasts look fabulous,” the brunette said with a breathy sigh, then joined the blonde.
“God, you made my derrière look extra special, didn't you, darling?” The copper-haired woman said with a wink and a grin. She pushed playfully at Ophelia’s shoulder, then also left the room.
“Mmm, look how powerful I look,” the raven-haired woman said last. She leaned over and kissed Ophelia’s cheek, nearly causing her to have a coronary.
“You might be green but you do have the talent, lover,” she said coyly over her shoulder as she reached the door. She blew Ophelia and Tristan each a kiss, then closed the door softly behind her.
Though a bit scandalized by the cheeky kiss she’d just received, the high praise from the women soothed away some of Ophelia’s tension. She looked toward Tristan with anticipation, knowing that he had the final say. He didn’t look back at her, though. Instead all of his attention was focused on the canvas, pouring over every small detail she’d created.
Come on, you dandy,she silently urged,Just say yes so I can get this work and get out of here!
“No,” said at least, his voice monotone as he finally leaned away from the canvas.
Though he couldn’t see it, Ophelia looked at him with a deadpan expression.
“No?” She echoed, forgetting to lower the bass in her voice.
His lips drawn into a straight line, Tristan shook his head.
“What do you meanno?”She demanded.
She’d just been through the most stressful two hours of her life thanks to this man, and she wasn’t going to leave without an explanation.
“I mean it is bad,” he said with a careless shrug. “I mean I am not going to hire you.”
Ophelia’s mouth gaped open.
“Honestly I am as surprised as you are,” he said with a disappointed sigh, looking back at the painting, “With as highly recommended as you came, I was expecting much better.”
Shock, anger, and fatigue all culminated into a deadly storm of emotions as Ophelia’s mouth snapped shut, then opened again.
“You may go now.”
Ophelia shook her head, blinking several times at the careless dismissal.
“I- I am not going anywhere until you explain why you do not like it,” she retorted, crossing her arms.
“It is boring,” he said with a shrug. “It bores me. It is realistic, yes, but there’s no spark.”
“No spark,” Ophelia said softly, then grit her teeth and took a step forward, “No spark?! It’s four naked women, what more spark do you need?”
