Chapter Five

James

 

On Friday, I was at the office with Nell. I was glad Janice was gone, and to be honest, things were quite a bit different. She wasn’t there making a lot of noise with her chips or her magazines or talking on her phone. Janice aside, I did wish I had someone there to keep an eye on Nell for me. I had hung a sign in the window and placed an ad online, but no one was coming in. I needed to figure out what to do before Nell started school on Monday. I’d gotten by this week, but next week I had a lot to get done.

Nell and I were downstairs, in my temporary office. I had moved my laptop down there so I could keep an eye on everything. Since Janice was gone, there was no one to watch the front. I especially needed to do it since I was looking to hire someone and that person could walk in at any moment.

Maybe people just didn’t care about art the way they once did, and that was why I wasn’t getting any bites. My gallery was pretty famous around town though. It was very popular and successful. I was surprised that there weren’t more people trying to apply.

“What’s this, Daddy?” Nell asked me. She was pointing at a sculpture that a client had set up for her upcoming show. It used different colors, metals, and shapes to create what I called a masterpiece. It was my favorite part of the artist’s whole collection.

“That’s a sculpture, baby,” I said to her. I loved to talk with her about art and wanted her to grow up knowing about everything involving art. This world was quickly changing, and art was starting to become a thing of the past. I wanted to make sure my daughter would know the joy and beauty art brought to the world.

“What does it do?” she asked, studying the sculpture hard. She made a fist with her little knuckles and knocked on the side of the sculpture. I wasn’t worried about her breaking it because it was very sturdy. I mostly just really enjoyed watching her study the various pieces of art. She would get the same look of concentration on her face that her mom used to get.

I knew there were emails I should be answering, but it was hard with Nell here. So far, though, she’d only been asking questions. She’d been pretty good about not touching anything. She was a good listener. Her mother would have been so proud of her.

The gallery door opened and a lady in her mid-to-late thirties walked in. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. She also looked like she’d had a fair amount of plastic surgery. Her face looked too fake to be real.

“Hello. How are you?” I asked her. I tried not to stare at her too much. I didn’t want her to think I was attracted to her. But I also didn’t want her to think I was judging her, either. I was, of course, but that was beside the point.

“Hi. I’m doing fine. Is this where I inquire about the job?” she asked. Her voice was a little cold and off-putting, but I didn’t want to write her off just yet. I had learned it was better not to do that.

I studied the woman’s face, hoping to find some semblance of happiness. I was hoping to catch something on her face that told me she was nice. I desperately needed to hire someone, but I didn’t want to settle on someone who was going to be rude. And so far, it was already looking that way. I was a pretty good judge of character.

“Yes, it is. I’m James, the owner.” I reached out to shake her hand.

But she didn’t take my hand, and after an awkward moment, I dropped mine back to my side. I was already seeing where this was headed. She looked at me, then at Nell, and finally back to me.

“There’s a child here,” she said, like we were standing in a strip joint, not an art gallery.

“Yes, she’s my daughter,” I said, and Nell came over to stand beside to me.

“Hi. Are you going to work here?” Nell asked. I loved that she was not shy. She was a very talkative little girl who liked to socialize and get to know people. She liked to figure out what was going on in the world around her, frequently through the cues of adults.

The lady gave Nell a strange look that didn’t sit right with me. Turning to me, she said, “I don’t think children should be in your place of work. That is highly unprofessional.”

“Look, lady, my nanny had a family emergency and had to leave. I have no other options for her right now. I own the place, so I don’t get how that’s unprofessional. It’s not like I’m in the middle of a showing and she’s running around screaming and breaking things.” I already didn’t like this woman.

“Yes, but still it doesn’t look good that you can’t find reliable babysitters or even help for your art gallery. These are things you should have figured out before you opened your doors.”

“Listen, lady. I’ve been open for quite a while now. Some things happened that I had no control over and that has nothing to do with me being a bad business owner or father. I would like it if you would leave now. I would never hire you in a million years.”

The lady looked shocked. “Excuse me? Well, I’d never want to even apply here. It’s unprofessional of you to have your little brat here.”

I clenched my fists to keep from snapping. “Listen, lady. If you want to go on with the rest of your day and not be thrown in jail, I would turn around, walk through that door, and never look back again.”

I put my hand up when she tried to talk again. “I don’t want to hear it,” I said.

With a huff, she turned and walked out of the door with her nose in the air. A sense of relief flushed through my body. I had felt uncomfortable from the moment she had walked in. How dare her tell me that I shouldn’t have my daughter at my place of work. I was the owner, for crying out loud. I could bring my daughter to work with me if I damn well wanted to!

“That lady was mean,” Nell said. She was very observant and smart. She picked up on things so easily.

“I know. Don’t worry, baby, Daddy got rid of her. She won’t come back now,” I said, and bent down to give my daughter a hug. There was a lot more I wanted to say to Nell about the lady, and a lot more I wanted to call her. But, in the end, I figured it wasn’t appropriate. There were things she just didn’t need to hear.

“What’s this piece called, Daddy?” she asked, turning her attention back to the sculpture.

“Decadence is the name of that piece,” I told her.

“Why’s it called that, Daddy? What does that word mean?” she asked.

I always really loved how curious she was about the world. She wanted to know more about things that most five-year-old couldn’t have cared less about. For being so young, she was also quite the wordsmith. If she didn’t know or understand a word, she would ask me the meaning a few times, so that she could understand it.

“I’m not sure. The artist picked the name.” Then I pulled out my phone and Googled the definition. I read it out loud to her. “Decadence means luxurious self-indulgence. In other words, it’s something really fancy that you like.” It was the only way I could think of to describe it to a five-year-old.

“Oh. Like when I name my dollies?” She didn’t have much to say about the definition. And I figured it was because it went right over her head. I figured it would. I didn’t really know how it could do anything but. She was a smart girl, but there was only so much she could understand at this moment time. It made me wonder how she was going to be as she got older, though. Was she still going to be as curious as she was now? I hoped so.

I laughed, “Yes, just like that.”

“What are we going to do when I start school?” Nell asked. She sounded a lot more concerned about this that she should have been. I blamed that on myself. I was always worrying about something, and things seem to brush off on her all the time.

Shrugging, I said, “I have no idea, sweetie. I’m hoping we find something out soon.”

We headed upstairs so I could look for a phone number. I remembered a guy who had come by six months before and said that if I was ever hiring, he would be interested in working for me. I searched for a good five minutes before giving up.

“What are you looking for?” Nell asked as she spun around and around in my office chair.

“A phone number. Stop doing that, sweetie,” I said and continued to dig through some boxes.

“I’m gonna go look at the pretty pictures,” Nell said, and then she stopped spinning, got off the chair, and walked down the stairs.

It was only a few minutes later when I heard footsteps coming back up.

Giving up looking for the phone number, I prepared to head back downstairs just as a younger woman in her mid-to-late twenties came to the door of my office.

I paused when I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. She had long sandy blonde hair and the most beautiful dark green eyes. Her beauty took my breath away.

But I was still feeling frustrated with first the rude older lady, and then with not being able to find the number I needed. I didn’t really have the patience to deal with her.

I had to deal with people showing up early for art shows all the time. It was the most frustrating thing for me. For some reason, our people just didn’t understand how to read the time or date on a flyer.

“The art show isn’t until tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t mean to come out sounding so frustrated with her, but I just couldn’t help it. I was already on edge from everything else that was going on, and now here was somebody showing up a day early for the art show. It didn’t even look ready downstairs; I didn’t understand why she would think that it was time.

“Thanks,” she said with a funny look, then she turned around and started to walk out. I felt bad, but I really wanted to find that phone number. I didn’t want to chase her down and deal with any of that. But I was a little curious as to why she was here. The way she’d reacted didn’t seem like she was here for the art show. In fact, she kind of acted like she had no idea there was art show even going on. That’s what I remembered the help wanted sign.