“I’ve got a hot hazelnut latte for Brandon!” A disgruntled patron wearing a wrinkled grey suit, with one headphone shoved in his ear walked towards the counter.

“What took so long?! Goodness! Is it really that difficult to make a darn coffee? Jesus you guys are slow here.”

“I apologize for the wait sir. We’re trying to go as fast as we can. I hope you enjoy your drink.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He walked away impatiently from the counter, shoving through the small crowd and spilling a bit of the latte on the floor on his way out of the shop.

Nine thirty in the morning. I was pushing out more drinks than I could count and impatient customers trying to hustle their way to work weren’t making the shift any easier. But on the bright side, at least the Java Mug was actually busy. Since the new coffee shop opened a few blocks down from us, we’d been competing for Seattle’s coffee lovers for the last few months.

“Jamie, you hanging in there? It’s going to be like this at least for another hour or so. Let me know if you need a break.” I was lucky my manger was my best friend Gina. At very least she checked on me every half hour to see if I was still standing.

Well I was. But just barely.

I didn’t expect to be working as a barista after college, but something had to pay for my painting equipment…

“I’m all good Gina! Just trying to get this last push of drinks out.” She gave me a heavy pat to my shoulders and walked to the office in the back of the shop.

“Where’s my Frappuccino?! I ordered a fucking Frappuccino!” A short woman mangled her way through the crowd and plopped her purse on the countertop. The smothering stench of her perfume drowned out the scent of all of the coffee brewing behind me.

“You over there, I placed my order five minutes ago. I have to be to work. Hurry up!”

“Ma’am, I’m preparing your order right now. I apologize for your wait.” Coffee, milk, peppermint shot, sweetener, blended and topped off with whipped cream. I must’ve made this drink a hundred times this morning alone!

“Order for Teresa! Peppermint Frappuccino!”

The short woman snagged the drink without saying a word and marched out of the shop.

The flow of customers continued like that for another hour and then started to die down, leaving the few college students who stayed around to study as the only patrons in the store. I wiped my hands briskly with a towel and let out a huge plume of air. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

“Thank goodness it’s time for a break. Hey Gina, I’m heading out to grab some lunch. Want anything?” Gina emerged from the office in the back with her purse draped around her shoulder.

“I’m coming with. Need a breather from the shop for a bit.”

We walked together out of the shop and downtown the winter streets of Seattle to a sandwich place next door. It was small, but quaint. And the staff were nice enough. We placed our orders and sat in a small booth in the corner of the shop.

My nostrils went from being suffocated by coffee beans, to being suffocated by bread. The food industry was oh so pleasant. Really.

“So the shop is doing really good this month Jamie. I think we’ll outdo the shop down the road by a couple thousand dollars. What a freaking relief! I thought that place was going to put us out of business!” She took a sip of her tea and leaned her head back against the soft booth we were sitting in.

“Wait a sec. How do you know that?”

“I have a mole down there in that shop. This business is grimy Jamie. We gotta do what we can.”

I laughed quietly at the thought that Gina had her own secret spy operation for her coffee shop.

That girls antics never ceased to surprise me.

“You know who owns that shop?” She fixed her blonde hair into a messy bun and a sly smirked wrinkled across her face.

“Uh-oh. I’m not sure I wanna know by the way you’re looking at me.” I kept my head down, glancing at my phone the whole time.

“Joel Williams.”

“You’re kidding. That football player from high school? The ‘star quarterback’? He’s pushing coffee beans now?”

“Yep. That Joel Williams. Isn’t it funny how the mighty have fallen?”

I thought about what Gina said for a moment.

Back in high school, we all had these delusions of grandeur about how rich and famous we were going to be when we got out. But most of us wound up working whatever mundane jobs we could find to keep afloat.

I dreamed of being a famous painter. But now all I was “painting” was flower designs in the foam of people’s coffee.

“Do you remember much about him?” Gina asked me, pulling her phone out of her purse.

“Can’t say I do…I just remember him getting into a really big fight at the end of our senior year. He got kicked off the team for it.”

Gina shook her head, tapping her fingers against the glossy wood on the table. “The whole school never lived that one down.”

Eight years earlier

“I heard you talkin shit Joel. Well you got a chance now. Do something.”

“I wasn’t saying nothing about you Forest. I don’t know who was goin’ ‘round spreadin’ rumors, but it wasn’t me.”

I looked around that cafeteria and everyone’s eyes were glued to the seen in the middle of the room. Joel Williams and Forest Lock were at each other’s throats and I suspected that any minute someone would wind up out cold and on the floor. As my luck would have it, they decided to have their little spat one table away from me.

“Hey Jamie, let’s move. I don’t want any of them falling on me when they decided to start going at it.” Gina motioned me to move to a couple tables down and I followed her.

I never understood why men couldn’t control their hormones. Why did they always insist on fighting?

Forest was a quiet kid. Tall, short hair, husky deep voice. He always traveled alone and didn’t make friends. At his insistence. I always suspected he was troubled, but honestly, I was too scared to even say hi to him. At eighteen, one year older than me, he seemed more hardened that most adult men. But something about him drew me to him. I always did like him, thinking maybe there was some way I could fix his wounded heart. We would sometimes say hi to each other in the hall. And we sat right next to each other in our homeroom, but that was about it.

Joel just had a big mouth. We all knew one day he would say something to the wrong person.

I went back to picking at the bland salad in front of me, occasionally looking at Gina for updates and trying to drown out Joel’s yelling.

“I swear Jamie, someone is going to get knocked out. I can just feel it.”

“As long as they leave me out of it they can have at it for all I care.”

I heard a loud pop that I swore was the crunch of the romaine lettuce in my salad. When I heard the screaming is when I finally decided to turn around.

There was Joel, on the ground, bleeding from his nose.

“Oh my god, Gina look!”

Gina was already gone and front in center of the group of students around Joel.

A small crowd formed around Joel with a glaring mixture of laughs, “oohs and ahhs” bubbling from the center of the group.

“I told you not to mess with me. Maybe next time you’ll think twice.” Forest wiped off his hand and the cafeteria silenced at the sound of a megaphone.

“Out of the way! Clear it, clear it!! Go back to eating! Forest Lock, you’re coming with me.”

Mr. Bryce, the principal, dragged Forest by his arm awkwardly leaving Joel on the floor with blood spewing out of his nose.

“Isn’t someone going to help him??” I asked into the abyss of students. Seemed like more people were content with just watching him writhe in pain on the floor there.

The screeching sound of the fire alarm dispersed the majority of students outside to the rec yard and nurses scrambled to help Joel up.

There was my excitement for the day, and my appetite.

Present…

“I’ve got a California club sandwich for Jamie, and a Grilled chicken club for Gina. Enjoy your food ladies.”

I dug into my food chewing over my thoughts of a high school flashback.

“Now that I think about it, I remember that fight like it was yesterday. Do you remember how everyone just left Joel on the floor?” Gina tried to stifle a laugh as she recollected.

“Yeah, that was just sad.”

Stifled gargles of air escaped our nostrils as we both tried to hold in our laughs.

“Well, I’m glad to see that he’s doing well now.”

“Ever the diplomat huh Jamie?”

I continued eating my sandwich as I pondered where I was back then.

Thinking I was going to be some amazingly famous painter, I got a scholarship to go to art school. Thirty portraits, five landscapes, and two sculptures later, I’m a barista at my best friend’s coffee shop.

Life was stagnant. Mundane. And I was just getting by.

“Gina, did you ever have different plans for yourself after high school?” She finished munching a potato chip and arched her head to the side in thought at my question.

“Hmm…honestly I think I’m right where I always wanted to be. Java Mug was exactly what I wanted to do and here we are.” Pleased with her answer, she continued munching away on her sandwich.

How was it that some people knew just exactly what they wanted and went for it? I felt a little empty at the thought that I didn’t achieve my goals like Gina.

“Seems like breaks up. Back to the shop we go!”

We left a tip at the table and walked back to the shop through the brisk winter air.

The bustle we experienced in the morning died down, and the low murmurs of pages turning and people whispering were the only remaining sounds in the shop.

I sat behind the counter in the dim light, sketching in a notebook while I waited for the store to close.

“Jamie, you’re out for the day! I’ll see you on Monday!”

“Already? Okay Gina, catch you later!” I grabbed my coat zipping myself in the warm layers of down feathers, and headed home.

I walked the night streets alone and in deep thought. Something was lacking in my life, and it had been for a while.

A cool, brisk gust of wind slapped me across my face, knocking my hood off and blowing my long hair all over my face.

“Urgh, why does it have to be so windy today?!”

I jogged the rest of the way to my apartment five blocks from the coffee shop and was relieved to feel the warmth of the building inside.

My apartment was a quaint little 400 sqft. box that held all of my easels, canvas and artwork just barely. A sofa bed and small flat screen took up the remaining space in the living room. Needless to say, I wasn’t inviting to many guests over to my place for wine and dinner. I had a nice little unobstructed view of the Space Needle and I was content with that.

“Let’s try to get something painted today.” I threw my coat to the couch and walked over to a blank canvas that I found myself staring at daily for the past four days.

Maybe something would come to me today.

I threw on my linen apron and tied it around my waist. Gathering my hair and placing it into a ponytail, I reached for my paint brush box on the table behind my canvas.

My hands brushed against the plastic top of the small table.

No brushes.

“I have to go outside again?” I flung my head back in distress at the prospect of going back outside in the brisk weather.

I ran outside as fast as I could and grabbed my brush set from the trunk of my Honda.

When I got back upstairs, I waltz over to the canvas feeling a renewed sense of hope that I might actually get something painted tonight.

The canvas was the only place that I felt control in my life. And it wasn’t paying my bills.

My hands touched the firm, rigged surface of the board and I clenched my eyes. I read somewhere that “connecting with the canvas” would help the creative juices flow.

Yeah, I wasn’t too sure about that, but I had nothing else to lose at this point.

Dipping a wet brush into a mixture of crimson red and royal blue, I dragged the purple concoction across the canvas.

I worked and worked for a few hours until the weight of my lids became too much too support.

“Alright. Somethings on the canvas. Guess that means I can head to bed now.”

A warm shower would be nice.

I let the water flow over my bare body. I kept hoping that it would wash away this feeling of disillusionment that I had with life. Kept wishing for something to change. I was too afraid to take a risk with my art.

What if I failed?

Standing in the shower for a while I pondered my future. Talking with Gina about high school brought these thoughts to the forefront of my mind.

When I’d gotten to pruny to stay, I hopped out of the shower, drying my body and throwing a robe on.

I plopped on my bed and shut off all of the lights, shoving my phone underneath my pillow.

* * *

The sound of my obnoxious ring tone startled me out of sleep. My eyes forced themselves open as I flinched at the bright screen of my phone to get a look at who was calling me.

Delvin Smith. The art curator at the Vox Musuem.

“It’s 3:30 and he’s calling me?” I hesitantly answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak to Jamie Jordan? This is Delvin with the Vox Musuem.” I strained my ears to try to hear the Delvin’s mouse like whisper.

Why did he insist on speaking so quietly?!

“Hello Delvin, this is Jamie. How can I help you?” I was barely awake, struggling to keep my tired eyes open and speaking to the curator of the largest art museum in Seattle.

Way to go Jamie.

“I’m sorry I’m calling so late but I wanted to let you know that I just got through the portfolio that you submitted to the Museum. What’s your earliest convenience for meeting up and discussing a few of your pieces? I’m interested namely in three of them.

The cold feeling of a long stream of perspiration running down my back made me shiver.

I submitted that portfolio a year ago never thinking I’d hear anything. And as if lady luck answered my prayers, I got a call back?

This kind of stuff just didn’t normally happen to people like me!

“Y-yes! Umm, I would love to meet with you! I’m available all weekend to meet with you.” Clearing my throat, I tried to conceal the stammering in my voice, but dammit I could care less if he could tell that I was nervous or that I just woke up.

I was beyond excited. No shame.

“Wonderful! I’ll email you a timeframe. Please make sure you bring a print copy of your portfolio for ease. Thank you, Ms. Jordan, and see you soon!”

He hung up the phone before I could even say thanks. I sat in the darkness in shock for a while before turning around to scream into my pillow. My voice went hoarse and I couldn’t stop smiling. This was going to be my big break!

“That’s right, printed portfolio.” It was utterly sad, but I kept a print copy of my portfolio in the glove compartment in my car in hopes that someday, someone would give me a call back.

Stumbling out of my bed, I grabbed my keys and wobbled out the door shoving my arms through my coat and walking to my car.

There was not a car on the road and the dim street lights did nothing to help my tired eyes.

“Where’s my car?s…” I dragged my hand across my eyes rubbing them roughly and stopped in front of my car.

The damn button on my car keys wouldn’t open the passenger door.

“Oh great…” I pressed it ten more times before giving up and shoving my key into the lock on the door.

An explosion of a deafening alarm rattled my ear drums. A nearby bird launched itself into the sky at the sound.

“Oh my god!! What the hell?!!”

I fell back to the ground with the life scared out of me and mashed the buttons on the keys to get the alarm to stop.

I didn’t even remember having a car alarm this loud!

Getting back up to my feet, I dropped my keys to the floor upon an embarrassing realization.

“I don’t drive a Subaru…”

“Hey you thief!!”

“What??!!”

The sound of a deep, husky voice sounded through the darkness in the direction of my apartment.

“I’m sorry! It was a mistake!! I thought this was my car!”

“Step away from my car right now and I might let you get off easy.”

He walked closer to me, and his face was illuminated under the street light I was standing under.

My heart rumbled in my chest.

He was tall and his furrowed brows glared down from at least seven inches in the sky above me. I did as he said and stepped away from the car, clenching my eyes together.

“I’m so sorry sir, I swear I thought this was my car!”

He took one look at me and started laughing uncontrollably, holding his chest firmly.

Was he mocking me? Some audacity! Here I was trying to be civil and explain the situation while trying not to pass out, and he thought it was funny? Some nerve!

“Are those Barnie slippers keeping your feet warm there?”

Barnie slippers??

My face turned flush when I looked down at my feet. Oh goodness…This situation just couldn’t get any worse.

I stacked my feet on top of each other as if that would make my feet disappear.

“Look, I’m sorry! I’m just going to go now!” I made an escape for the apartment building when he grabbed my arm in protest.

“Lemme give you a lesson on cars real quick before you go. This right here is a Subaru WRX STI.” He pointed at his car with an indignant smirk wrinkling his mouth on his face. “Brembo brakes, 350 horsepower engine, solid suspension, spoiler for aerodynamics and drift. That kinda thing. What you’re looking for is over there I think.” He waved in the direction of my car, “A rust bucket little Honda. Don’t see how you could’ve gotten these two mixed up.”

Honestly, I completely tuned him out.

I know nothing about cars, if it wasn’t obvious by my little gaffe. And besides, from what I could see in the dark he was pretty cute. Like, “steaming pile of sexy man” cute.

He rose an eyebrow at me and looked curiously.

“Earth to lady! Are you in there?” He playfully tapped the side of my head and I wafted his hand away.

“Yeah, lady is in there.” I mocked playfully.

“I’ll walk you to your car. Don’t let me catch you breaking into cars again, ya here?”

He seemed awfully serious but playful too, in some weird kind of way.

“What’s your name?” I asked cautiously as we walked to my car.

“You get one question and you just used it. Name’s Forest, inquisitive one.”

“Forest Lock?!” I held my mouth and stared at him with wide eyes. “You went to Pleasant Tree High right?! Do you remember me?!”

He softly dragged his hand through his hair and squinted his eyes.

“The girl who was always scribbling pictures on the desk next to me in homeroom. Of course, I remember you. Jamie. Who forgets the weird artsy types anyway?”

He remembered me. I felt strange at the thought and then suddenly curious. I’d never gotten to know him in school. Preferring instead to keep secret admiration. I figured that would be better anyway.

“It’s been a while. What are you getting into these days Forest?”

“I run a car shop about ten minutes from here. I don’t figure I’ll ever see you in there seeing as though you can’t tell the difference between a Honda and a Subaru.” His voice was dripping with a condescending sarcasm and I chose to focus on the small plumes of air coming from his nostrils at the cold air.

“I’ll make sure to never disturb your shop with my lack of knowledge then.”

“Please don’t.”

He was so smug, just as I remember. I guess it was true that people really don’t change much over the years.

I unlocked my car and grabbed my paper portfolio out of the glove compartment. For some reason, he waited by my car with me. If I was so annoying, why didn’t he just go home?

“You know, you don’t have to wait out here with me. You can go back home Forest. You live somewhere around here right? I don’t want to keep you.”

“I live in your building. The nice thing to do would be to wait until you’re done.”

“Wait a minute, you live in my building?!”

“I didn’t stutter. Yeah, I live in your building. I’m not too much of an ass to leave you out here. Just hurry up. It’s cold as hell.”

How long did he know we lived in the same building? And he never thought of saying hi? Well, it’s not like it was in his character to be nice…

“I appreciate it. You didn’t hav-”

He cut me off abruptly, “Don’t get used to it. I’m not a doorman, bug eyes.”

“I do not have bug eyes!” Embarrassingly, I took a quick glance in my car window just to confirm.

He started to walk ahead of me smugly after his swift insult. I followed quickly behind him.

“Listen Forest, I don’t know why you’re being so rude to me. I don’t recall ever doing anything to you in high school.”

He stopped walking and shook his head from side to side. His eyes moved from the ground and up my body to my eyes.

“I’m not in the business of being nice Jamie. I caught you in the middle of the night trying to break into my car. Not exactly sure I should even be talking to a thief at all.”

“I am not a thief. I told you already it was an accident.” He punched in the key code to our building and opened the door for me.

“Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Dispersing from the lobby we walked towards the elevator. I swiped my hand back from the call button quickly after our hands hovered over each other in an attempt to press it.

I felt embarrassed. Almost child-like.

“What floor are you on?”

“Floor three please.”

He pressed the button and we rode the elevator in silence to my floor.

Occasionally I glanced at him. He’d become considerably more muscular than I remembered. My brain created some stupid vision of him lifting heavy weights, body soaked with sweat and I shook of the thought in awkwardness.

“You okay over there?” He glanced over to me.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

I booked for the exit when we got to the third floor and we almost collided into each other.

“Watch where you’re going bug eyes!”

“Hey, you bumped into me!!”

I dusted my shoulders off and began walking quickly down the hall to my apartment. Glancing back, I saw him following behind me.

“So I’m a thief, but you’re the one following me back to my apartment? Give me a break you creep!”

“You’re not the only one that lives on this floor. God, you’re such a damn nuisance!” I marched to my apartment and fumbled to unlock the door. He was standing right next to me unlocking his own door, but I was too fuming to notice.

“Since I’m such a nuisance, good night!”

“Ehh, whatever...”

We both slammed our front doors in unison.

I couldn’t deny it, something about Forest was endearing.

Okay, maybe not the fact that he was a completely condescending asshole. But I could see some little semblance of likability under his rigid exterior. Dispelling that horrid thought quickly, I flung my coat inside the shoe closet and dozed off on my bed.

I woke up the next morning with an unyielding feeling of nervousness pouring over me. Delving Smith would be looking over my portfolio and either telling me that I would be the next Van Goh, or the next employee of the month at the Java Mug. Hoping that a good breakfast would ease my tensions, I cracked an egg for scrambling.

Healthy streams of light lit up all corners of my studio and I was feeling pretty good. That is until a blaming knock on my front door disrupted my bliss.

I ran from the kitchen and open the door to be greeted by the less than enthused face of Forest Lock. In the light of the morning, I got a much better look at his face.

He was tanned, almost sun kissed. He had deep brown eyes and firm jawline. He had to have been at least eight inches taller than me I thought, mentally revising my earlier estimation.

Even I wasn’t too prideful to say the man was beautiful.

“Look, I wanted to apologize for last night…”

Wait a minute- he was apologizing? Maybe he wasn’t as much of an ass as I previously thought.

“…I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you about your shitty car. But your brakes are rusted and I bet your suspension is bad. That’s dangerous. So out of the little bit of pity I have for you, I’ll offer to give you a tune up. For free.” He folded his arms and stood in my doorway. Judging by the look on his face, I could tell he was content with himself. Like he was performing some kind of public service by mixing a little bit of kindness with a whole lot of jerkiness.

I shouldn’t have thought anything was attractive about that. But I did.

“I really don’t need your pity, and my car is just fine. Rather than standing in my doorway though, you can come inside if you want.”

He took me up on the offer without even uttering a thanks, and helped himself to the barstool in my kitchen. He glanced around my apartment at the canvases spread throughout, and let out a low chuckle.

“I see you’re still scribbling around huh? Looks like you got better.”

“It’s not like you’d know anything about painting.” Waltzing haughtily passed him, I went back to scrambling my eggs. “Would you like any breakfast?”

“You suck at playing tough guy you know that? You can’t try to be a hard ass one second and then offer me breakfast the next.” The leather jacket he was wearing draped over the chair he was sitting at, and he hung one arm over the back of it.

“Well I do have manners you know.” I threw some bacon on a skillet and turned the heat on.

Maybe my cars suspension was bad. It might be a good idea to let him take a look at it.

“You know what Forest? I’ll bring my car into your shop. But I’m paying you. I don’t do hand-outs.”

“Suit yourself. I won’t beg you.”

He sat in silence for a short while, while I finished preparing breakfast.

“Here you go.” I put the plate before him and he scrutinized it for a second.

“You didn’t poison it did you?”

Was he ever the jokester…

I rolled my eyes as far back as they would go, “No. If you don’t want it, you don’t have to eat it.” Before I could get the last word out of my mouth he was already crunching down loudly on a crispy piece of bacon. “Never mind I guess!”

I could not for the life of me, understand Forest. He was cruel, sarcastic, funny, sexy, interesting and- well, maybe I was thinking too much.

“Bring your car in around 3pm today. Here’s the address. I’ll take a look at it, personally.” Handing me a small piece of paper, he cleaned the plate of food that I served him and put his leather jacket back on. Walking towards me in the kitchen, he poked my forehead playfully with his finger. “Don’t be late. I’m a busy man.” Forest said nothing else as he walked out my front door, closing it behind him.

“What on earth is his deal?”

I finished my own breakfast shortly after and grabbed my purse and portfolio.

* * *

“Excuse me, where can I find Delvin Smith’s office? I have an appointment with him today.” After thirty minutes of sifting around through the sinuous hallways of Vox Museum, I finally decided to ask for help.

Being stubborn really wasn’t getting me anywhere.

The woman at the front desk was barricaded behind a glass window. She barely looked up from her papers to give me a response; her beady eyes hardly moving from behind the cat eye glasses she was wearing.

“What’s your name?”

“Jamie Jordan. I’m here to discuss my portfolio with Mr. Smith?”

She flipped through a small stack of papers and dragged her finger across a name I was assuming was mine.

“You’re the ninth person today. Don’t get too excited. We are a very prestigious Art Gallery if you can’t tell.”

Oh yeah, prestigious alright.

As if the marble flooring, gold encrusted ceilings and porcelain carved pillars lining the hallways didn’t tell me that enough. I brushed off the inane pot shot.

“That’s precisely why I decided to submit my portfolio. I only aim for the best.” Shooting an innocent and confident smile disarmed her cattiness.

“Well good luck. Mr. Smith’s office is on the second floor. Office room 202.”

I waved the woman off and headed from room 202.

Was it normal to just instantly loose all confidence when you just felt on top of the world? I couldn’t help but glance at my own printed portfolio after gazing at all of the beautiful paintings decorating the museum.

“I really hope I’m not going to embarrass myself.”

I rode the elevator to the second floor, and was relieved to find Delvin’s office right in front of me. Giving the door two gentle knocks, I stood outside and wanted melt into a puddle of nerves. All of my paintings of the last five years were getting ready to be put on the chopping block.

My mind had already convinced my senses that I sucked. Making peppermint frappuccino’s for the rest of my natural life would be my fate.

Delvin opened the door and greeted me with a warm smile.

Alright, at least he’s nicer than the woman that the front desk…

“I’ve been waiting for you Ms. Jordan! Come in please!” Waving his arms, he motioned me in.

Delvin was really short, but gained an extra five inches with the bright purple heels he was wearing. He donned a blue polka doted bowtie that matched his blue suspenders. His blonde hair was slicked back and green eyes were obstructed by a large pair of glasses frames with no lenses.

All over his office were paintings of the exact same thing.

One giant blue dot.

Wow. This was going to be interesting.

“So Jamie, I called you here because I’m interested in three of your portfolio pieces. As you know, the Vox is all about finding the next stoke from the soul of a brush that pushes that wow and pizazz that sparks the love and light of our museum!”

Umm, was he speaking some different language or something?

“W-well, I’m glad you found some pieces you like. It’s really is an honor to me.”

He reached for the printed portfolio pages I placed on his desk and took a large blue permanent marker.

“Let’s see here…This one, and that one…” He flipped a few pages and shrieked when he got to the last page. “…This one here as well!! These are the ones Jamie.”

Handing me the paper, he flipped through the pages to all of the pieces he circled.

They. Were. All. Blue.

I sighed of relief.

They were the only blue paintings in my portfolio. This guy obviously had a fetish.

“I’ll be drafting a contract that you’ll have to sign to allow us to display your work in the museum.’

“Wait a minute, that’s it? That’s all you needed to do?”

“Honey, I’m an art curator. This isn’t a job interview. We want to purchase these three pieces from your portfolio. All you need to do is sign the rights over to us.”

“They’re yours!” I wasted no time in my answer.

“Perfect! Come back at the start of the next week and I’ll have all of the paperwork done. Wish I could chat longer, but I’m all booked for the day. We’ll talk soon Ms. Jordan.”

Sure it was strange and sudden, but I didn’t want to kill the moment with rationalizing. As far as I was concerned, the man loved the color blue. And that sure as hell was good enough for me!

I dialed up Gina’s number.

“Hey Jamie, what’s up?”

“You won’t believe me when I tell you that the museum just purchased three of my pieces.”

“You’re kidding. Are you serious?!”

“Yes. Drinks on me Gina!!” I held the phone away from my ear as she shrieked in excitement.

“How about at three? There’s a few bars that do happy hour by my apartment.”

“Shit, can’t do three. I have to bring my car in to the shop! How about I text you and let you know?”

“Sounds fine with me. Congrats girl!!” She ended the call and I glanced down at my watch.

“It’s 2:50?! I’m going to be late!” There was no way I was going to tolerate Forest talking down on me for being late.

I hopped in my car and drove to his car shop.