44
CHRIS
"Whoa!"
Suddenly backing away from the three-dimensional glass cube, Steph crashed into Chris, who'd been approaching her from the side. "Oh, sorry, Chris. I didn't see you. I think this should be at a slightly different angle in the room."
He put an arm around her. "If it had been, you'd have seen me approaching you in the reflection."
"I wasn't thinking about safety issues but aesthetics."
Chris sighed wearily. "I know. I'm thinking about a comfortable bed waiting for me in the hotel across the road. We could knock off for the night."
She yawned and rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm tired too. We'll see everything clearer after a good night’s sleep, and it really is just finishing touches left."
They had worked for two long days, supervising the unloading and unpacking of the art pieces. They'd supervised the placement in the exact display positions that Chris had previously determined. He handled the assembly of many larger pieces that had arrived in parts. Steph had taken charge of the construction of the glass house.
Setting up the show had been full-on. The structural engineer had visited the gallery every day to witness progress and advise on safety while there was still time to make adjustments and put up extra supporting struts.
After years of experience, Chris knew how to set up an exhibition, but having the right help made a big difference. "Thanks to your help, Steph, we are ahead of schedule, and we have plenty of time to do the finishing touches tomorrow. Now, I'm dead on my feet and ready for bed."
"You want your bed." Yawning, she pulled away, stood up straight, and looked Chris in the eye. "Especially when you have a man waiting in your room for you."
"You saw that?" He chuckled. "I may have handed over the key card to my room to a certain scaffolder who just left."
"Chris Cooper, I've been watching those scaffolder guys since the three of them arrived. Like a hawk, I've been circling them. They were all a proper bit of eye-candy. A sweet treat for working late. I'm not surprised they're all spoken for."
Almost as soon as they met each other at the gallery, Chris had brought Steph up to speed about the weekend's events. He couldn't stop replaying it all in his mind, and he knew she'd have guessed something good had happened. There was no hiding the happiness he felt.
"They are, indeed, spoken for." Chris smiled and hugged himself. He couldn't help the fact that it looked sappy. Steph knew him well enough.
"Your man, he's gorgeous, and he's what you deserve." She hugged Chris. "I hope he treats you well. Or I'll have to deal with him."
"Steph, this one is different. I can just tell everything is so right, even though we don't know each other all that well."
"I'll get the rest of the workers to clear off for the night. You go off and meet your man. And try to get some sleep." She winked.
The sound of jovial booming conversation rolled around the gallery, breaking through the hushed tones of movement, concentration, and tired people at work. The voices were alien, out of place, and coming from the direction of the entrance foyer.
Startled, Chris and Steph made toward the direction of the noise. Slightly slurred words and laughter suggested the men may have come from a party or nightclub. It was late enough.
Why gatecrash an art gallery?
It took only seconds for Chris to reach the foyer in the next room, but it took even less time for the heavy sensation to weigh down his stomach as his brain recognized one of the voices.
Where they had entered the building, the two unwanted late night guests stood just inside the doorway.
With surprise, Chris noticed that Frank and Kevin had not left the building; they stood poised to go, their exit blocked.
"Why don't you come back in the daytime? I've not been told we're expecting anybody." Doing his job, the security guard had his back to Chris and stood before the two men.
"There you are, Chris." Jeremy peered around the side of the tall, broad security figure. "If you could just assure this security guard that I'm on your team so he can get back to his post with his henchmen." With a slight gesticulation of his hand and head, Jeremy seemed to refer to the scaffolders.
Chris stepped forward but didn't want to move within touching distance of his ex-boyfriend. "He's quite right. The exhibition isn't at its best right now. You'd do far better to come tomorrow in the daytime. Or better still, sometime after the opening night."
"Don't be like that, Chris. I'll be at the private view, of course, but I didn't come to see the exhibition—I've come to see you. And introduce you to Daniel, after I've spent hours telling him all about you."
To Chris's dismay, the security guard backed off a little as he realized the men did indeed know each other. He must have mistaken knowing for liking.
The stranger stepped around the guard and in front of Jeremy. “I'm Daniel, pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand.
Taking hold of the hand without comment, Chris's insides sank a little further as he felt reluctantly drawn into the polite charade. No matter how much he didn't want this scene, it was always rude to refuse to shake hands, especially with a stranger.
"I'm not sure Dan believed me when I said I knew you. And that you were my boyfriend before you made it as a famous artist." Jeremy swayed and staggered toward his left. "I told him about how I gave you the advice to move away from abstract art to things people recognize. You've taken that advice and come a long way. People know what they are looking at now. The glass house for example, at least when they see it people know it's a house."
There was nothing Chris could say that would sound civil. He remained silent.
Daniel nodded his agreement. "He's probably too shy to say so himself, Chris, but you should think about giving Jeremy a second chance. I know he'd love to get back with you. He'd help your career. He's very keen to invest his wealth in the arts. And you'd make an excellent couple as the artist and his patron."
Aghast, Chris wiped his right palm over his clothes. It now felt soiled, where he'd touched Daniel's hand a moment ago. Daniel, who was apparently as shallow and as obnoxious as Jeremy.
"What's all this?" Jeremy was distracted by what he'd seen to the side and had staggered over to peer close up. He leaned in close to the display to gaze upon one of the items.
Why didn't these men take the not-so-subtle hint? As Chris didn't engage in conversation, they should fuck off.
"Snow globes." Jeremy answered his own question. "They don't have much in them, Chris. They've got your name on the bottom, but they're a bit boring."
Chris bristled at the comment.
Like a knight in armor charging forth to defend the reputation of his love, in a few determined strides, Frank stood alongside the display of snow globes and paperweights for sale. "They have miniature glass houses in them. Replicas of Chris's major work in this exhibition. They are affordable and collectible."
Jeremy looked briefly at Frank's face and then stared for some time at the Sky High Scaffolds logo on his chest.
Chris decided to break his silence. "I must admit, some people have made very constructive and useful suggestions for my artist business, which I've taken on board. Those snow globes, for example—they are the suggestion of my boyfriend."