Seattle was a rather nice place. Apart from the hell that was traffic of course.
I glanced at my Rolex for probably the tenth time. If those damn cars didn't start moving soon I would be late for my meeting. And punctuality was basically my middle name. Actual my middle name is Jacob but I'm sure you get the point.
I would be staying here for the next two months, my art program " Germaine " opened up a branch here so I have to show up and act as if I care. Not that I don't.... but I would much rather be back at my house in Hawaii drinking out of coconuts.
Those were the good times.
I lean back against my seat and sigh as I close my eyes. This is a lesson learnt. Next time I'll be sure to put my jet into good use. What's the point of having outrageously expensive things if you aren't going to use them.
After a couple of minutes, I open my eyes and roll down the window . It was almost eight which meant I had about fifteen minutes to be out of here.
I looked ahead. Fifteen minutes was surely not going to be enough. And rolling the window down wasn't a good idea. The air smelled like vehicle fumes.
How nauseating.
I was about to roll them back up when my eyes fell on her.
She was in a cab right beside my car. Her focus straight ahead.
I couldn't make out her full features but the little that I could see had me glued to her. She had dark hair that flowed down her back and she kept biting her bottom lip anxiously as she looked at her phone .
Strange... I always thought I was more into brunettes. Guess I don't have a type after all.
Just as I was about to look away, she turned. And I swear I I felt my heart stop for a second. She had the loveliest pair of brown eyes I had ever seen. And I had seen quite a lot of them.
She seemed to examine me oddly. Probably wondering why I was staring. And though I knew I ought to look away, I didn't.
I couldn't.
She narrowed her gaze and frowned, then she looked away.
And I wanted to call out to her and make her look back at me.
But don't get your knickers in a twist, this isn't one of those love at first sight clichés.
I wasn't made for love, I believe in freedom. In the ability to live your life without worrying about the possibility of forgetting a birthday or an anniversary.
The only reason the girl captivated me is because I am an artist. And I do tend to admire lovely sights.
And she was definitely one of them.
The traffic finally moved and I started my car. But before I drove off I glanced at her again. She was clearly looking at me but shifted her attention the moment I turned .
How charming.
I might be an artist for the sake of money but even I can identify a perfect work of art when I see one.
And the lovely stranger was definitely a masterpiece.
*****
two weeks later....
" ...So that's why in my opinion we ought to grant art scholarships to kids in the state. I believe it would be a nice way to both publicize yourself and make a real change in the community..."
I listened as the manager of my programme went on and on. Do not ask me what he was saying.
I have absolute no idea. I was too busy noticing how odd he looked in his blue shirt and yellow tie. Speak of a wardrobe malfunction.
Those are two colours I believe should never go together. Doubt me if you want but if I were you I would not. We currently in my office discussing about.... right, I still have no idea.
To be honest, I'm still trying to figure out why we are having this conversation in the first place. That is why I have assistants. They do the hard things while I pretend to do the easy things before faking an urgent meeting and making them do those as well. Clever, I know.
It is my deepest desire that my employees and I be better strangers. And that the man seated across from me would shut the bloody hell up because I'm afraid that more of his conversation would infect my brain.
" So. What do you think? " he asked and I played the pen I was holding between my fingers. It was a beautiful ornate fountain pen with a polished burled-wood barrel. Expensive looking with a gold nib.
I wanted to poke him in the eye with it. But that would get blood stains on my beloved stationery and we just could not have that, could we?
Plus intentionally blinding people was... well, you know.
Illegal.
" I think... "
I think you should leave my office before I run out of patience and choke you with that ridiculous yellow fabric around your neck.
" I think that is a spectacular idea. I trust your judgement completely. "
" Thank you Sir, I'll get things ready for the project. "
He stood up and extended his arm in greeting. I stared at it with inward distaste before returning the gesture for as short a time as I could. I had no idea where his hands had been.
I watched as he exited my office before I walked over to the table on which I kept my whiskey and poured myself a glass. Gulping it down in one swift motion. The liquid coursed it's way down my throat, burning me.
I desperately needed that.
Now I know what you're thinking.
You think I'm a stuck up millionaire who believes that he's better than others. Well I want to be the first to inform you that.....
You are absolutely right!
About the stuck up part that is. You were way off on the millionaire part though, but not to worry. Just replace the "m" with a "b" and pretend you're a genius.
I slowly walk back to my mahogany desk and lean against the edge. Then I stare at the painting hung on the wall right next to the blinds. It is the girl I saw on the highway about two weeks ago.
And now you're wondering why I hang the painting of a complete stranger in my office. Well, first I'm going to clear your doubts and assure you that I am completely sane. I only drew her because I found her a rather lovely sight to look at. It is my legal obligation as an artist to make sure that the prettiest things are preserved in a permanent way for the whole world to see.
Christ! That made me sound like a sad and pathetic poet.
But it is the truth.
My reminder beeps. I have another meeting to discuss an oncoming galla I have planned. And this one I have to personally attend. I have to make sure that everything is done perfectly. It is a very distinguished event attended only by the most prominent individuals. So I can't risk putting my reputation in jeopardy.
Not to mention that it is always a perfect opportunity to pick out a nice girl to take back home with me afterwards. Don't judge me. We already established that I'm an arrogant bastard . Which is something that females seem to like for some absurd reason. Probably even more than my money and British accent.
Who am I kidding? Of course they don't. See, it came to my realisation that most females just want three things from me. Sex, money and more sex. And I being the perfect gentleman that I am always try to make sure that their needs are fulfilled. Until I get tired of the female and find another one that is.
I place the glass on the desk and get ready to head out. Then I get an incoming message on my phone and stop to read it.
" hope you still remember to pick out my preferred bottle of wine. I'll be flying in tomorrow "
I smile as I stare at my screen. It was from Arden. A very old and trusted friend of mine. Probably the only person in my entire existence who I actually cared about. We had grown up together since we were five and an unbreakable bond had been forged. He was the nice one between us.
Then again, he was a drug dealer who killed for personal enjoyment so I should probably rethink concept. But overall, he was nice to be around and I could not wait to see him again. He sure did make life a hell of a lot easier to deal with. And I had not seen him for almost a year now since his adventurous spirit had dared him to try and climb to the top of Mount Everest.
True story.
According to the email he sent me a few months after this very stupid decision, he had looked up at the mountain and changed his mind. Mostly because he realised he had not taken even a single bottle of alcohol along. Though I am certain that if he had taken one I would be planning his funeral.
A normal Arden was crazy, but a drunk Arden was clinically insane. He would have probably thrown himself down the mountain with the intention to fly.
" Wine? You're making this sound awfully romantic don't you think? "
I sent back and he replied right away.
" But it is romantic. I get to see the love of my life after a whole year trapped in the wilderness where I ate nothing but scorpions and drank. from the many cactus. oh, how I long to look into your eyes and stroke your skin"
I laughed at the reply and tried not to send one in return. But then he would probably just think he won and that was something I could not allow.
" I miss you dearly my love. Don't forget to pick me a bouquet on your way over or you will be sleeping on the couch on your first night back."
As soon as I sent that I switched off my phone and placed it in my pocket. I still had a meeting to attend and I was already late. But I couldn't wait for Arden to arrive. He just had a way of making me feel like a better person. Though that was mostly because on more accounts, I was better than him. In everything that is.
On my way out I caught a glimpse of the painting. And I lingered on the spot for a few seconds. She was beautiful, unmatched by anyone I had ever seen. Too bad I would never get to see the little stranger again. I would have loved taking her back to my house and devouring her in every way imaginable.
But some wishes are just that,...wishes. Dead hopes that cannot be fulfilled.
