I shake my head and laugh. “I wanted to buzz it off anyway,” I shout back.
“Don’t try me, I’ll make you re-do the painting to match the new silhouette!” I skitter out of the room, shoes in one hand, purse in the other. Although… doing this all again doesn't sound like such a terrible idea.
On the ride home I realize I don’t have my neck scarf.Oh well, I think. He can have a memento of me. I wish I had one of him.
Chapter Four
DAY AFTER
By the time I get home, it’s dark and I’m exhausted. I get in a steaming hot shower and go over my hair and skin with multiple rounds of shampoo and soap. Once I’m fairly certain I’ve gotten out all of the blue, green and black flecks of paint, I cover my hair in record-breaking dollops of conditioner. I sit on the tiled floor and let the stream hit my back, leaning my head forward and out of the spray to allow the moisturizing concoction to soak in before I rinse one last time.
Once I’m done in the shower, I step out and towel off, then moisturize my skin with the same gusto. My paint-smudged grey T-shirt hangs from the towel rack. I thought maybe I’d throw it away, but now, I think I’ll keep it. This can bemymemento—my proof of this afternoon.
After downing a bowl of microwaveable easy mac while wrapped in my towel, I hastily brush my teeth and flop into bed. My phone buzzes with texts from people in my life I don’t have the attention span for at the moment, including Mariah. She’s spending the night at her fellow TA’s apartment. He’s cute! Good for her.
A piece of me wishes I could wait on a text from Devo, but of course we’d never exchanged numbers, only addresses. I pickup my phone to send a text to a thread of my closest girlfriends numerous times but always wind up deleting it. The intention of the NDA I signed earlier hangs over my head, but Icouldtell them I spent an afternoon with a man. A world-shattering afternoon with a beautiful, thoughtful,skilledman. I put my phone down and stare at the ceiling for a moment, wondering when I’ll see him again—wondering if it’ll only ever be in my dreams. Before I know it, I’m fast asleep.
The next day I wake up shaking my head at my dramatic thoughts from the night before. I’ll definitely see Devo again—what was this? Romeo and Juliet? Was one of us planning to perish by poison? All I want to do is head back to the studio and peek in the closet I saw stars in last night to check on Devo’s progress.
But first, my paying job.
Harper texted me early this morning asking if I could come over for a home shoot. She just adopted a puppy and wants to announce it to her followers. I hesitate before my closet and finally pick out a cream-colored maxi dress with pastel flowers printed across it, then throw a baby blue sweater over the dress and belt it at the small of my waist. I slide into my tawny brown leather boots with pointed toes that I feel give my legs some extra length. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about Devo’s height and wanting to be closer to his full lips.
Yesterday, Devo saw me in a studio outfit because I’d expected to need to roll up my sleeves and get messy… which I did, but not in the way I’d anticipated. Today, I want to look more feminine. I dab on more make-up than normal and take extra time to weave a long, fishtail braid through my hair. When my fingers finally cease their movement, I scoff at myself. I’m dressing for a man I barely know! He clearly already enjoyed me in the state I was in yesterday and yet here I am, preening in the mirror—pretending he’s right in front of me and wanting to catch his eye. I stop just before putting on eyeshadow and step away from my beauty station. This is good enough. I have to get moving before Harper returns the puppy to the pound.
Once at her parents’ townhouse, I help Harper find the best lighting and set up a scene with the heartwarmingly adorable Great Dane puppy. He still has little grey fat rolls going down his body, and I just want to squeeze him ‘til he pops.
“Duke, Duke.” Harper pats a forest green, velvet pillow on the floor in front of her. It’s rimmed with gold piping and has opulent tassels hanging from the corners: a pillow fit for royalty. The puppy ignores her and keeps licking my hand while I laugh. I scoot his butt back over toward the patch of natural light next to his owner, but we’ve lost both his attention and his interest in treats. The first few had kept him on the pillow, but now he’s more fascinated by the new human creature crouched before him with a camera.
Harper sighs. “Okay, I guess that’s all we’re going to get today,” she murmurs, smacking the pillow out of the way and standing up, brushing nonexistent dust off the skirt of her tight fuchsia dress. I allow Duke to give my hand a few more kisses before I pull away. As I do, I notice the tiniest speck of light blue on the back of my thumb. Must have overlooked that in the shower last night. Who knows what other stubborn spots I had missed?
An image of Devo’s devilish grin and piercing gaze between my thighs flashes through my mind and I put my hand to my brow, riding out a tingling sensation in my lower abdomen.
“Do you want a drink?” Harper asks from behind the kitchen counter. She’s pouring herself what looks like a glass of chilly white wine. “Owning a puppy is hard work!” she exclaims before taking what can only be described as a gulp.
I suppress a grin at the thought that Harper has only had Duke for two days. Pet ownership is going to be a long, bumpy road, but despite her occasional air of entitlement, Harper wouldnever give him back to the shelter. She has a bigger heart than expected under those designer clothes, and would be more likely to put him up for adoption on her Instagram story than put him back in a cage. In the meantime, if he can hold her attention and she can manage his growth, Duke will be the luckiest little guy in all of Brooklyn.
“No that’s okay,” I finally answer. Harper is already halfway done with her glass. “I actually have somewhere to be.” Harper’s shoulders droop. I’d had the sense lately that she might want to… be friends. Not something I’d given much thought to, as I didn’t want to risk my paycheck. Instead, I’ve been kind, polite and professional. I’m sure she has a pack of glamorous peers to hang out with anyway.
But just as I think this, I catch her eyeing a well-worn stack of flowery romance novels on an end table and realize, I really don’t know how she spends her time outside ofinfluencing.
“Alright then, well, I’ll see you this weekend.” She pulls her expression together, no longer looking put out. “We have a shoot with Christina.” Another rising influencer in Williamsburg, best known for reviewing “see-and-be-seen” bars and restaurants. “Wait, what day is it again?” Her eyebrows knit together as she pours a second glass of wine.
“Today’s Thursday.” I gather up my belongings and don my coat.
“Right, okay.” Harper waves me away. “I’ll send you money for your time.” She cocks her head. “You know, you look really pretty today, Char. Do you have a date tonight?” Her eyes light up.
“No, no, nothing special,” I reply, ducking my head and tugging on my braid as I near the door.
“Ah ok, see you in a few days then,” she shouts after me.
“See you in a few days!” I lean back across the threshold of the townhouse and yell again, “Bye Duke!” I spy him gnawing on the bottom of a heavy gray curtain—he almost blends in. I close the door to the sounds of: “Duke! Bad boy! Drop it!”
I head down the steps with a smile. I did not sign up for puppy training when I agreed to this job, so I better get the hell out of here.It’s Thursday, I think. Devo’s always revealed his Muse Paintings during these micro-residencies on Fridays. He must be working on it now. Even though I’m not in the headspace to paint, my feet take me in the direction of the Copper Works. I didn’t do all that primping today for nothing.
When I enter the studio, it’s late afternoon and the sun is streaming through the high western-facing windows. The place is bustling! Perhaps the temporary close of the studio yesterday had people antsy. Nearly everyone I know who’s a member of Copper Works is in attendance. Alex is elbow deep in clay on the right, closer to the large basin sinks. Miles looks to be putting on more layers to his multi-media canvas. In fact, it looks like he’s trying to attach pieces of a PVC pipe and he hasn’t quite figured out the right adhesive. Daisy, true to her namesake, is actually painting flowers, but on torn cloth rather than a mounted canvas. I look up and see a few other pieces of jagged-edged cloth hanging from a rusted wire over her head, each end attached to two adjacent walls. Daisy’s corner. Every strip has a plant painted on it.Hmm,a hanging forest?I also spot Rob waving wide strokes of slate blue watercolor across his handmade paper. His watercolor landscapes are always lovely, and I wonder what this one’s inspired by.
After my quick assessment of the activity in the space, my eyes zero in on the closet door. The portal to Devo’s temporary mini studio,or sex den.I purse my lips to hide my smile. No one’s given me a second glance. So, despite the secret blaring through my mind, I casually stroll towards that closet. I expect someone to see me and stop me, especially Alex, who I assume Devo worked with to coordinate the empty studio yesterday, but no one says a thing.
