Vincent

It was seven in the morning, and I was standing outside the MET in my suit and tie. The sun was out and it was a clear day.

But it was cold as hell.

People passed on the sidewalk, going to work with a cup of coffee in their hand. Puddles were on the sidewalk, leftover from the thawed snow. I pulled back my sleeve and looked at the time.

I hoped she was still coming.

A cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and Scarlet emerged in red heels and a long-sleeved black sweater dress. An olive green scarf hung around her throat, and her brown hair was in large curls. Big sunglasses covered her eyes, but her smile couldn’t be diminished by anything.

She walked toward me, looking like another model in the city. She pulled off her glasses before she reached me and placed them in her purse. “Good morning, Vincent.”

“Good morning, Scarlet.”

She stopped in front of me, her hand resting on the strap of her bag. She didn’t try to shake my hand, and she didn’t try to hug me.

I didn’t touch her either. A part of me wanted to, but another part wanted to put a thousand miles in between us. I stared at the perfect complexion of her face, the redness of her lips, and the brightness of her green eyes. My eyes lingered on the freckle on her cheek before I finally turned away. “This way.”

“What are we doing here, Vincent?”

The guard opened the front door and ushered us inside.

I let Scarlet go first before I joined her. My driver appeared with two paper cups of coffee and handed them over.

“Coffee?” I extended the cup to her.

“Sure…thank you.” She held it in her hand and took a drink. “How did you know I like soy lattes?”

“I called your assistant.” I walked forward into the grand entryway, seeing the enormous room filled with ancient art pieces and sculptures. Everything from the Byzantine Empire to Mesopotamia was included in this historic museum.

She walked beside me, staring at me with a dumbfounded expression. “That was very nice of you, Vincent.”

“Think nothing of it.” I approached the first painting, a huge fresco that depicted one of the earlier wars in human civilization.

Instead of looking at the painting, she glanced around the room. “Are they open yet?”

“No. We’re the only ones here.” I didn’t take my eyes off the image, seeing the exquisite piece of work right in front of me. It was thousands of years old. Generations had come and gone, and now everything they’d ever known had disappeared into the earth. Now I got to appreciate it with a hot cup of coffee in my hand, wearing a suit that was worth as much as a down payment on a car. These people had struggled in a way I would never understand.

“We have this whole place to ourselves?” she asked incredulously.

“I’m not a big fan of crowds.”

“Wow…” She finally looked at the masterpiece on the wall. “Thank you for giving me the honor.”

I stepped away and looked at the next piece.

“You like art?”

“I appreciate it. I’m not an expert by any means.”

“I like paintings and sculptures, but I don’t know much about history. Just a little here and there…”

We moved on to the next piece, standing side by side and never touching. We sipped our coffees as we enjoyed the silence of the expansive museum. They could play music overhead, but the silence was a lot more powerful. “Art can tell a lot about history even if you don’t know what’s going on. In the beginning, artists painted what they saw. So you see a realistic interpretation of life at that time. The colors aren’t vibrant or romantic. They’re simple, drab, and unremarkable. If you go into a modern art gallery to decorate your home, you won’t see colors like this. You’ll see bright bursts of color. As history goes on, the colors get bigger and brighter.”

Scarlet took her eyes off the painting and looked at me. “I never knew that.”

We moved through the museum, taking our time in one section. We both had work to go to in an hour, but I thought experiencing the quietness of the museum before opening hours would be a nice start to the day.

We enjoyed our coffees as we proceeded through the pieces, making small talk about what we saw. It was easy to talk about something that had nothing to do with either one of us. We talked about an artist’s work and dissected its meaning. Scarlet had original insights and lovely opinions. I felt like I got to know her in a different way.

After a while, it felt more relaxed.

In this situation, we didn’t have to talk about each other. I didn’t have to talk about my late wife or wonder what happened with her and her ex-husband. This was a simpler way to spend time together, to do something that wasn’t so heavy.

At the end of the hour, we left the museum and returned to the sidewalk. A line was already forming at the entrance, all the tourists waiting to see something we’d just enjoyed exclusively.

“Thank you for that, Vincent. That was an experience I won’t take for granted.”

“You’re welcome, Scarlet.”

Right on cue, my driver pulled up in my car. It was black with tinted windows.

“I’ll give you a ride to work.”

“That’s sweet of you, but don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’m more than happy to take a cab.”

I opened the back door. “I don’t mind. Please get in.”

She smiled before she got inside.

I got into the seat beside her, and my driver took us to her building. It was on the way, so it wasn’t inconvenient. But even if it were, I wouldn’t have cared. My phone buzzed in my pocket with endless emails, but I ignored them. Scarlet and I weren’t making conversation, but I still didn’t want to stare at my phone.

“That was really wonderful, Vincent. Thank you for taking me.”

“Of course. How’s the article coming along?”

“I’m almost finished…and it’s wonderful. I think you’ll like it.”

“Great.”

“Will you be able to come in for some photos tomorrow?” she asked.

“Sure. What time?”

“One?”

“I’ll be there.”

“That’s great.”

The car pulled up to her building, and my driver helped her out of her side of the car.

I got out and stepped onto the sidewalk even though I didn’t know how to say goodbye. A handshake would just be weird at this point.

She held her bag and gave me a slight nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Vincent. Thanks again.”

“See you tomorrow.” I kept my hands in my pockets so my body language was easy to decipher. I wanted to spend time with her, but I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want her to touch me either.

She waved before she walked away.

I waited until she was inside the building before I got into the back seat. I stared out the window as my car pulled away, unsure what I was doing.

I didn’t have a clue.

---

I didn’t know how long this would take, but I cleared my schedule for the rest of the afternoon so I wouldn’t have to rush to another meeting. I walked into the building in the suit I’d been wearing to work, black with a pink tie. I checked in at the front desk and was immediately escorted to a different floor.

I stepped out of the elevator and was guided to the photography set. Backdrops and lighting were ready, and the photographer was making final adjustments. Scarlet stood at the clothes rack, sorting through the different selection of suits. When she was concentrating on her work, her expressions were harder than normal. But when her lips were pursed like that, she looked cute.

Did I just say cute?

Her hair was straight and pulled over one shoulder. She was in a bright pink dress with a gray scarf. Gray pumps were on her feet, and golden bracelets encircled her wrist.

I stepped inside without anyone noticing me and took advantage of the moment to stare at her.

She pushed through each outfit, her lips moving as she counted silently. When she finished the task, she stepped away from the rack and looked up. She nearly did a double take when she realized I’d been standing there for a while. “Hello, Vincent. Thanks for coming.” She walked up to me but kept five feet in between us. Her hands came together at her waist, and she held herself professionally in front of her crew. It didn’t seem like we’d had coffee together yesterday morning and walked through a hallway of ancient paintings.

My eyes were on hers, seeing the brightness of her eyes as it contrasted against the lovely colors she wore. Her makeup was different that day, her eyes smokier. As the editor in chief of the magazine, she obviously thought it was a requirement to look as good as the models.

I thought she looked better than the models.

I never found aging quite so beautiful as when I looked at her. Gravity had taken its toll and her skin wasn’t as tight as Alessia’s was, but like a fine wine, she got better with age. There was no doubt she had been exceptionally beautiful in her prime. As time passed, beauty naturally declined. But as a society, we shouldn’t think that way. Our appearance changed, but not in a bad way.

I realized I hadn’t said anything for the past minute, ignoring her polite greeting because I chose to stare at her instead. If we were alone together, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. She knew I wasn’t big on talking.

But we weren’t alone. “I’m very happy to be here. Shall we begin?”

“Yes.” She moved back to the rack and selected the first piece. “I know you have places to be.”

I was free for the rest of the day, but I didn’t tell her that.

She handed me the first suit, a deep navy blue with a smooth fabric that didn’t possess the appearance of silk. It was stiff and well made, but it had a special touch against my fingertips. “Put this on, and we’ll begin.”

The photoshoot was held entirely on the floor with different backgrounds and changes in lighting. Scarlet’s original idea was to take these photos in an exotic place, but she obviously had selected a different look.

She focused on the suit more than the background.

She stood behind the photographer and yielded the direction to him. She watched with her arms crossed over her chest, and sometimes she smiled when I changed my pose. Her eyes were glued to me the entire time. She could have stepped away and attended to the other tasks that were probably sitting on her desk, but she chose to stick around.

After two hours, we were finally done. I put my suit back on and felt the noticeable weight difference in the fabric.

Perhaps I’d have to buy some of those suits for myself.

The photographer cleared the space, and I met Scarlet by the door. She was placing every suit in a special plastic bag, protecting the fabric from the dust that filtered through the central ventilation system.

I eyed my watch before I walked up to her. “I hope the photos turned out well.”

“Oh, they did,” she said with confidence. “I saw them on the screen as Tony was working. They’re beautiful. I can already picture the spread in the magazine. And I think I might put you on the cover.”

“I’m not sure if I’m cover material.”

“Oh, you are, Vincent.” She smiled then zipped up the final bag. “The designer wants you to keep these as a thank you. I’ll have them sent to your office.”

“That’s generous. Thank you.”

“It’s not that generous,” she said with a chuckle. “If the world sees you wear these, it’s great advertising—great free advertising.”

No one else flattered me as much as she did. But her compliments seemed genuine, not hollow because she wanted something. My eyes focused on her movements, staring at her without restraint. Her motions were mesmerizing. The way her eyelashes flicked as she shifted her gaze was hypnotic.

She lifted her gaze up to me again, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Unnecessary. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Then let me walk you to the elevator.” She went first, passing through the door and into the hallway.

It was the perfect opportunity to look at her, but I didn’t.

She walked me to the elevator then hit the button on the wall. “I’ll send everything over once I have it. I want you to see it for yourself.”

“Thank you.” I adjusted a cuff link before I slid both hands into my pockets.

She stared up at me, keeping her professional stance even though it was just the two of us standing there. She kept her hands in front of her, her fingers locked together. Her shoulders were back, and her neck was straight. Despite her calm appearance, I could tell she was nervous around me. “Have a good afternoon, Vincent.” She smiled at me before she stepped away, her heels clapping against the tile.

Without preemptive thought, I felt my hand shake as it ached to grab her as she stepped away. I had to control myself and keep my hands to myself. Touching her was inappropriate, especially while we stood inside the Platform building. I got her attention with my voice instead. “Have dinner with me tonight.” I hadn’t planned on asking her to do anything, but watching her walk away filled me with dread. I didn’t like it when we parted ways. She brought me a sense of comfort no one else could replicate.

She turned back to me, her eyes reflecting the same excitement that Times Square held on New Year’s Eve. She had a natural smile that was easy for her to show, but she went the extra mile whenever I said the right thing. Without telling me how she felt, I knew she wanted to see me as much as I wanted to see her. “Just tell me when and where.”