I could practically hear her eyes rolling. “He’s dressed to be seen, that’s for sure. He has that hideously eccentric Manet suit on again.”
“The naked lady one?” I ventured.
She snorted. “Yeah, the naked lady one with the nipple, front and center. The one that has to be censored in news articles when he wears it.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Only Henry.”
I locked my screen and dropped my phone into my trenchpocket, craning my neck to see ahead of us. We were about five storefronts away from the front area. Black poured out onto the street, showing where the location started.
I’d seen posts all day where the crew, clad in black coveralls, black scarves that covered the lower half of their faces, and low-slung black ball caps, had set up the front-facing facade of the show. They’d rolled out black matte paint across the otherwise worn but washed NY sidewalk, and up the front of what was once a large deli.
The black-light sign that read PERL hung on the new black brick above the windows as media sources gathered. They’d all eagerly trained their cameras to get a look as the windows were uncovered, only to find them covered with black vinyl on the backside.
The purple glow of the black-light sign now highlighted the white shirts and hats of some patrons nearest the front. Street musicians set up every twenty feet or so, and their music created a cacophony of background noise. The buzz surrounding this entire block was infectious. Not a single passerby was oblivious to what was happening, each stopping to take a picture for their social media feed.
At nine, the crowd moved, spilling forward onto the large front patio space, which someone had roped off. Bouncers halted the line one group ahead of us, reaching capacity. It was another 45 minutes before they let another group through; us included.
Once we reached it, I was quick to catalogue the patio. Around a hundred people mingled in the outdoor space, enjoying the vibe and chatting with either a bourbon orchampagne flute in hand.
Near the patio exit on the opposite end, people poured out, filling the restaurants and sidewalks nearby.
People were talking animatedly, hands gesturing and snippets of descriptors floating through the air like“Sharp, poignant, deeply disturbing.”
Bee and I made our way toward the door. An obvious line formed, creeping along.
I caught the boisterous laugh of Henry then, seeing him emerge from the line that was filtering out of the space.
“Absolutelystunning,a great addition,” he remarked, cheeks a brilliant red and sweat dotting his brow and bald head.
He was a stout man, colorful and famouslysingle-and-ready-to-mingle.As Bee had warned, the famous Manet nipple was front and center on his left coat pocket. The rest of the famous artwork titledOlympiasplashed across and wrapped around his back. He had a black velvet bow tied around his neck—bold and flirty, just like the courtesan whose nipple graced his chest.
He saw us then. “Nash! Just the man I wanted to see.What. A.Coincidence!” he sang, sidling up to me.
I held my ground, familiar with his bold advances. He loved to flirt. “Henry, glad to see you enjoying all this, despite the circumstances. I was sorry to hear about your loss.”
Henry tapped my chest with his fingers in a playful beat. “My dear, dark, handsome boy, life has never been better! Not a moment spent in mourning,” he assured, which I knew had not been the case until my father talked him into seeing it froma better angle. “I just secured the purchase of this piece, so I’m feeling well, thank you.” Leaning in, he added, “I’m riding that horse till she bucks me! Just soaking itup!”
My eyebrows rose. “So you bought it?”
I was both surprised and not. I’d expected him to buy the PERL I was about to auction, but perhaps he’d buy both. His pockets were certainly deep enough.
“Well,” I paused and leaned into him conspiratorially, now adding to the secret bubble we found ourselves in. “It just so happens that I know about an upcoming PERL auction you might also be interested in.”
Henry jumped back, gasping with exuberance.“Really!?”He began fanning himself. “Which one?OH!Can you imagine owning two at once, or even three if they ever findBlue!”
I smiled. He was hooked.“Red.”
“Red!”Henry feigned a heart attack. “The first one ever!?”
I nodded. “Theveryone.”
Winking at him, I gestured that the line was moving and our moment together was ending. It also served as a great opportunity to leave him hanging.
Henry stood straight, hand resting on his neck bow, mouth agape in a dramatic pose as we stepped away.
“You keep me updated, Nash!” he yelled after us.
I nodded in affirmation and turned back to Bee. Triumph was written all over my face, I was sure of it.
