An Unlikely Affair (closed for Initiate_me)

[Initiate_me]

I texted my Dad to let him know that I would be in work tomorrow. His reply was simple.

"Finally. Good girl."

It was sick but that made me feel good. Faint praise. And it made me want to do that pathetic job well. Show that I was at least competent. The cab pulled up at my apartment block and I casually handed the driver a fifty, for a twenty-dollar fare, and stepped lightly out of the vehicle with his grateful words chiming in my hear. Easy to please people when you're rich. Cheap to feel good. Everything.... cheap. For good and bad.

 

[PapaRomantic]

I went to the gallery website and got the hours - open at 3:00 this afternoon. That gave me several hours to get some other things done. The truck needed an oil change. In the past, I could have done it myself. But without my garage and my tool which were still there, I needed to get it done somewhere else.

I headed for the shower. I should have been upset at Clarissa's quick exit, but for some reason, I had already put it out of my mind. Another woman was occupying the spot where Clarissa had resided, and I was perfectly fine with that.

 

[Initiate_me]

Another morning. Another day. I pulled out and wanted to go to the gallery but turned the other way, to the central business district.

At the office heads turned my way but I didn't think it was to flatter and did think that it as in surprise that I had actually turned up for a change. A couple of the interns glared at me- hard to blame them when they were busting themselves working all the hours they could in order to climb the ladder and there was I, on a quite-high-rung thank-you-very-kindly without lifting a finger.

I wanted to blow them kisses and tell them life isn't fair and I wanted to cry and beg forgiveness and offer my position over to them but instead I walked past without saying hello to anyone and into my office and sat down at my desk and turned on the computer. It asked for my password and I realised I had forgotten it. Quite embarrassing. Quite difficult to ask for help with that.... I racked my brains for a while and then remembered, the name of one of my favourite bands. "Cigarettes after sex". Access was granted and I fired up the emails and there were a lot and most already marked as actioned by one of the assistants.

I felt out of place but not unusually so. I sent a quick text to Deb to let her know that she was in charge of the gallery today and not to sell anything without consulting me. Then I checked that no one was looking and then I had a quick sip of vodka from my flask and it was fine and it was just to calm my nerves and no one could criticise me for that.

 

[PapaRomantic]

Killing time again - it seemed to be a theme of my days off lately. The hours ticked slowly away until the 3:00 opening of the gallery. I was starting to get a little excited - trying to put the morning episode with Clarissa behind.

At noon, I fixed a sandwich. I had decided I would head into the city early, maybe find a shop or something that might hold my interest, even though I had no money to buy anything. I was just about to head out the door when I received a text message. I bristled, afraid it was Kristy begging to talk to me again after what she told me the night before.

I was also afraid it was Clarissa, and I just wasn't ready to deal with the drama that would likely come from that message. So with the worst of expectations, I checked to see it was a number with which I wasn't familiar.

"Hi, Joe - it's Deb, from the gallery. Do you have your kids today? The gallery opens this afternoon at 3:00, and Clarissa will not be here. I thought maybe it would be a good time to visit, since it's usually not busy at all in the afternoon. Let me know!"

A feeling of excitement washed over me. She had sent me a message! I quickly fired one back - "Sorry, no kids, but I'd love to come and visit if that would be okay with you!"

I waited with both anticipation and dread to see what her answer would be. Maybe she was only interested in the kids - maybe me without them wasn't interesting to her at all. I knew I was being pessimistic again, but after my track record of the last 24 hours, it was all I knew.

She messaged right back - "Sounds wonderful - I'll see you later!" All kinds of relief washed over me. It wouldn't be an actual date since she was working, but it was a huge step in the right direction!

 

[Initiate_me]

The clock said loudly to me that it was 3pm. The gallery would be opening and I would have liked to have been there but I wasn't. I was here instead in the office and that was desperately dull. But I knew it was right. Right to be here.

Jensen poked his head round the office door and beamed at me and to be honest I'd forgotten all about him and now I was glad to see him. Really happy to see him.

"Clarissa! My girl!"

"Hi Jensen, nice to see you," I said and it was nice to say something nice to someone nice for once and actually mean it. Jensen had always liked me. Well, no, he when I had been appointed three years ago he'd been skeptical just as everyone else- the big boss airlifting in his daughter, for an easy gig, when other people were striving hard to be the best they could. But I'd helped him in over his long-term crush, Robbie, and that had cemented me as a firm friend in his eyes.

"How have you been?" He asked with a smile as I stood up to receive his hug. I knew that was a nice way of really asking where I had been all this time.

"I've been absolutely great thanks," I lied, "Just a lot of work opening the gallery, you know? I hadn't meant to stay away so long, but you know how it goes..... just so many complications."

"I can imagine." He rubbed my forearm as he did sometimes and I couldn't help feeling better. "And I'm so, so sorry Clarissa. I really wanted to come to the opening. I'd been planning on it for weeks. But my brother had to go into hospital, I had to look after my niece for him, it was a pretty tough time."

"Of course- and I was glad to hear he got back out and that he's okay no," I said. Now I felt a little guilty- Jensen had texted me about this, more than once, with his stress and worries for his brother. I had been distracted and my replies brief. It hadn't seemed unkind but now it did.

"How's Robbie doing?" I said to change to subject and Jensen's face brightened as he turned to his favorourite subject.

"He's great, he's had an amazing few weeks at work. They're really starting to trust him, you know? As a surgeon. Like, he's newly qualified and he knows that but he also knows he can do it, you know? He's living the dream. And things are going better and better between us."

"I'm really glad to hear that. You deserve it- you both do."

He smiled and winked at me. "You'll find someone decent too babe. Just you wait. When it hits you.... oh boy. Right, I'll get us some coffee, and then we can get you up to speed on what's been going on around here."

 

[PapaRomantic]

My palms were actually sweaty as I pulled up across the street from the gallery. The "open" sign was already displayed - not the usual lighted sign as in other businesses, but a very fancy, hand-painted sign that matched the accouterments one would expect of an establishment that displayed and sold art.

I nervously walked across the street. I was curious to see what Deb wanted in a relationship with me - for that matter, I was curious to see what I wanted, because I wasn't really sure what that was yet. I knew three things - Deb was kind, Deb was cute, and Deb wanted to see me again enough that she had sent me an inviting text. Quite frankly, after our morning debacle in the apartment, I could only be sure that of those three things about Clarissa - and that was that she was cute. She didn't seem to be kind to me at the moment, and she made it clear that she didn't want to see me.

With those thoughts in mind, I pushed the door open, and was immediately greeted with a huge smile. Deb had spotted me, and she quickly walked over to where I was and gave me a big hug. As she held me, she said, "Joe, it's so good to see you. I'm so glad you came!"

I answered, "To tell the truth, I has already planned to come and see you here today before I got the text. Your message just confirmed my plan was the right thing!"

She led me by the hand to the reception desk, where she had brought a second chair so I could sit down with her. Once we were seated, she said, "Joe, I miss your kids - they were so much fun when they were here with you the other night. As I took them through the gallery, I could see so much of you in them. You are a great father, Joe - your kids are lucky to have you."

She could not have said anything nicer to me, especially after what Kristy had told me a couple of nights ago. This was starting off extremely well! I smiled at her and said, "Thanks, Deb - I appreciate that, although I can't take all the credit, because they have a wonderful mother as well."

We talked for 15 minutes about general things about us. In the normal flow of the conversation, I asked her about working here at the gallery, and how she had come to know Clarissa. She looked at me and said, "Well, that's a long story, and I'm not sure I should share too much."

That answer confused me a little. I really didn't need to know their history, but I was a little surprised she wasn't wanting to share.

"That's okay, Deb - I don't want you to feel like you need to tell me things that would make you uncomfortable. After all - aren't we supposed to be having fun?"

She looked at me and smiled - a wonderful, cute smile that I could look at for a long time and not get bored.

 

[Initiate_me]

I concentrated hard as Jensen went through everything that I'd missed. It was a lot, but mostly all taken care of already. But as he talked I could see his usually jokes and silliness steadily fade and he became more serious and didn't say why, for a while. And then he did and he said; "Babe, there is something that's coming round our way soon. It affects us all."

It didn't sound good when he said that. By "us all" I took it to mean everyone connected with my father's business consortium. The hundred or so people in these offices here, the fifty-odd in the offices across town, and those working on other areas of the consortium's interest in Maine and Texas and Michigan. It had to be something pretty serious.

"There's been.... an allegation," He said slowly and he didn't meet my eye. "Unfounded, of course. Ridiculous in fact."

"Just say it Jensen. It's something to do with my father, right?"

He waited a few beats before answering and played with his watch. "Yeah. yeah it is."

"Go on."

"He.... they..... look, someone has alleged that.... that he's been somehow connected with some..... insider trading."

I felt relief and realised I'd expected something worse. "Is it true?"

"Does it matter? I mean, no, no of course not. But the accusations are coming from powerful people. People with influence. With reach. I think it's all come from the Goding Group. I think they dug some rubbish up and passed it to some over-eager reporter. They stirred it up into this whole thing."

"And how has he reacted?"

"He's been waiting. Biding his time. We hoped this would burn itself out and die if we starved it, but a couple of other news sites have picked it up, and it's become a mid-level story. We can't keep silent now, it makes us look guilty. We're arranging the press conference. Full scale denial. Dennis was penciled in but... well, we were hoping for you to come back for it, to be honest. You've got a way with those reporters."

"What do you mean?" I said and I did know what he meant.

"Well I think a couple of those guys are actually in love with you. As in they'll print whatever you tell them. And it's just generally good to get a cute young woman up there. That puts people at ease, they like that. Nothing bad's been done by a cute young woman. A glamorous bitch, sure. But not a petite sweetheart like you," He said and he winked.

"Won't it fall down, with me being the daughter?"

Jensen shook his head and smiled, looking more relaxed again. "We ran a quick focus group and it actually seems a lot of people would rather see a daughter than a drone. The whole "family business" thing. We actually might want to play that up a bit- have you talk about what an honourable man your father is, that kind of thing." He said all that with a straight face and I ould have been amazed except for deception also being my specialty.

 

[PapaRomantic]

A couple of customers came into the gallery, and Deb got up to be with them. As I watched her interact, I was taking back to the night my own kids toured the gallery with her. She was wonderful then, and was equally wonderful now. The two customers appeared to be more than just lookers, so Deb was making sure all of their questions were answered.

She left them for a few minutes and came back to me. Smiling, she said, "They're interested in the one on the far wall - painted by Stewart LeGarre, a local artist. It would be his biggest sale to date, if they decide to purchase it."

We sat together and watched as the couple continued to ponder. During the break, I asked her a blunt question.

"So tell me, Deb - why are you not taken yet? You are a lovely woman, with an incredible personality, and you seem to be able to interact with people of all ages. Shouldn't somebody have claimed you by now?"

I realized the question was rather forward, and I hoped she didn't think I was prying too much. But I felt fortunate at my age to know this woman that seemed so incredible in so many ways, knowing she was single.

She looked at me as she said, "I haven't always been by myself, but I seen to have a pretty poor track record of picking love interests. My last two relationships ended with me getting hurt pretty bad - not physically, but especially mentally. After the second one ended, I withdrew from the dating scene for a while. In fact, you're the first guy I've felt comfortable sharing my number with. I trust you, Joe - not just because you're a cop, but because I've seen what kind of father you are, and I've seen how kind you've been to Clarissa, even though she's not always kind back to you."

The gallery patrons looked over at her, and she got up to visit with them. When she came back, she was excited.

"They want to purchase the LeGarre - I have to call Clarissa. She told me not to sell anything unless I spoke to her."

I watched as she sent the call to Clarissa.....

 

[Initiate_me]

Jensen pointed to my phone. "It's ringing," He said and winked at me, got up to leave. That made me laugh- it had been a weird thing of ours, to point out the obvious to each other and I couldn't remember how it had started. It had grown into a bit of a competition in public. In a very trivial, silly way..... like going into a meeting, and in front of everyone I would say "Jensen, we're in that meeting now, this is that meeting. Okay?" Or Jensen shouting to me from the copy machine across the room "Clarissa! I'm copying those documents!". It sounded even more stupid when I thought about it, but it kept me sane.

"I'll call them back."

"You're sure? I won't be too offended," He said. I stood up and walked around and stood behind him and massaged his shoulders like I used to do. He smiled and closed his eyes. "You've got to stick with this now babe, you know that? Be a bit more "Present and Correct", yeah?"

"Yeah, I know."

"And if you do.... the sky's the limit. When your father sees how we shut this whole hot mess down, he'll be blown away."

"You really think that?" I was thinking that Jensen didn't know my father at all.

"I really do. And besides.... you can't leave me alone here again, like that. This places is full of bitches and straight guys and gay guys in denial. It's a shark pit."

"Do they have shark pits?"

"Shark.... lake then."

"Sharks in lakes now?"

"That's enough of your attitude miss. I'm off to do some real work. We'll rattle our brains around on this tomorrow morning, yeah?"

I nodded my agreement and he left with a smile. I could see everyone through the glass door and they were milling around and looked very serious and to be working on serious things in wouldn't you know it a serious manner.

The phone rang again.

"Hi Deb, what is it?" I said and hoped it didn't sound impatient.

"Sorry to disturb you at the office Clarissa, it's quite important."

"No problem, what's up?" She sounded excited and I wondered why.

" It's the LeGarre.... there's this couple here, they want to buy it. They're visiting from New York and they heard about the gallery.... they've been browsing and they just love it. They want to take it right now!"

"Oh.... great..." I said as I deflated like a sad balloon. I was remembering my promise to Stewart LeGarre. That I'd make sure this piece would go to someone who moved in artsy circles, who set styles. Someone who would talk and show and give his work the exposure it needed to raise his name. I shouldn't have had it out. I should have kept it back and just shown it to select connoisseurs. What if this couple were just planning to hang it up in their bedroom? I

 

[PapaRomantic]

I watched with amusement as Deb's facial expression changed. She went from excitement to frustration in a very short time, and I realized that her first attempt to reach Clarissa was unsuccessful. Undeterred, she quickly sent another call, and once again her expression changed - this one back to excitement, and it was obvious that Clarissa had picked up.

I heard her explain about the couple wanting to buy the painting - Le something, I'd already forgotten. But it was clear Deb knew the painting and the artist, as she explained the couple's desire to purchase it today.

I continued to watch, and suddenly Deb sported a look of confusion. I was surprised to see it as well, and I wondered what Clarissa had said to create the tension I was now feeling, and I'm sure Deb was feeling as well.

 

[Initiate_me]

I didn't want to let LeGarre down. He could put a few bad words around and then I'd struggle to get other up-and-coming artists involved.

"Look... there's an issue...." I explained it and Deb just said "Ah," and she seemed equally worried.

"We won't know without really interrogating them, will we?" she said.

"No. We won't."

"That could be.... awkward."

"Yeah. Do you want me to come over?" I could tell that a lot of her did but she surprised me after a moment's pause.

"I.... no. No, I can handle it. I'll find out and do the right thing."

"Are you sure?" I admired her courage and in truth was relieved- to be spared this task and to be able to remain at the office, where I was supposed to be.

"Yeah, I'm sure. There's someone here who I think could help me. A friend. If he could engage them, find out what they intend to do with the picture.... that would be better than being questioned by gallery staff, right?"

"Sure."

"I don't think he'll mind. He's got the charm."

"Use your best judgement Deb. I trust you."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Just tell me how much it is, in case they're suitable buyers."

"Sixty thousand dollars," I said, starting to turn my mind back to the day job. She thanked me and we said goodbye, each to our own doings.

 

[PapaRomantic]

Deb practically skipped over to me with a gleam in her eyes. I had no idea how her conversation with Clarissa went, but I figured I was about to find out.

"Joe, I need your help, please - it's a complicated story, but could you go over to them and make some casual conversation? We need to find out what their intent is for the LeGarre - it makes a difference whether we sell it or not."

I looked at her with surprise. How was I supposed to talk to them about a fancy piece of art? Wouldn't they be able to see through my attempt at sounding like I knew what I was doing?

Then I looked down at Deb again, and her cute eyes grabbed my heart and wouldn't let go. Finally I said, "What do I need to find out from them?"

Deb explained how LeGarre wanted his art sold to someone that would display it to other prominent art lovers, in an attempt to build some excitement for his talent. It certainly made sense. I wasn't sure if I could pull it off, but I knew I'd do anything in the world for Deb.

So I said, "Okay, but if this works, you owe me a date - a real romantic date!"

Deb hugged me and said, "Deal - I know you can do this, Joe, I've seen you be cool in a crisis situation before. If you could handle the twins on opening night, this will be a piece of cake!"

She had a point. I would employ some of my police training to engage the would-be buyers. It almost turned into a case of evidence-finding for me.

I sauntered over to where the couple was still looking at the painting. Very casually, I said, "Hi there, my name is Joe. I see you're interested in the LeGarre. You have excellent taste - it's a wonderful work by a brilliant up and coming artist."

The man said, "Hello, Joe, I'm Eugene. Yes, we can see the talent behind the image he has created. Are you interested as well?"

It was time to step up my interrogation game. "Of course, but I'm afraid he wouldn't sell it to me, since my desire would be to hang it in my home for my own use. Mr. LeGarre would prefer to sell it to art lovers who would be able to show it off - perhaps even brag that the painting was in their own collection and not a collection of their friends."

"I see, that's interesting," the man replied. "I think we would make Mr. LeGarre very happy. My wife Mitzi and I have long pursued the fledgling work of whom we believe to be potential stars in the art world. There's a delicious satisfaction in knowing that you have something that other people want. We are not afraid to travel the world to seek out these gems."

I had the information I thought Deb needed, but I didn't want to just walk away. As they continued looking at the painting, I got Deb's attention and waved her over. As she was approaching, I thought I'd try one more thing.

"I love your plan for the LeGarre. Who else have you 'discovered,' to the delight of your friends?"

Deb arrived just in time to hear my question. She looked at me with a little amusement in her face - she knew I was pressing my luck, but couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at my question.

It was Mitzi who answered my question. "We have several pieces that we have purchased with discovery in mind. Perhaps our most widely-known artist is one of the first creations by Juan Pablo Rodriguez. Do you know him?"

I started to answer, but Deb beat me to it. With her jaw nearly scraping the floor, she exclaimed, "You have a Rodriguez? He's one that eludes us - I know the gallery owner would love to have a Rodriguez to display, but I'm afraid he's near the top of our reach, even if there was anything available!"

Eugene replied, "We feel very fortunate to have made that purchase, and we are quite sure that the piece we have is probably now worth five times the original purchase price. But it will never be sold - as with most of the works we have, it will be bequeathed to museums across the country, so our love of fine art can be shared with everyone."

Eugene and Mitzi turned back to the LeGarre, and I turned to Deb and mouthed the words, "Sell them this piece!" Deb nodded - I have a feeling once she heard the couple had a Rodriguez, she already knew they were perfect to buy the LeGarre.

I turned back to Eugene and Mitzi and said, "Friends, it's been great to meet you. I'm envious - it looks like the one I want is actually going to a better place. I hope you can lock this one up and display it in your beautiful home."

Mitzi replied, "Thanks, Joe - and thanks for your opinion. We were on the fence for a while about this, but your excitement over this piece really tells me that it does need to be with us." She tapped Eugene on the shoulder and asked, "Right, dear?"

Eugene shook his head, as if he'd heard that question many times before. With a quick "Yes, dear..." it looked like Deb was going to make her sale. I turned to walk back to the reception area, and as I did, I grinned at Deb and mouthed, "YOU....OWE....ME....A.....DATE!"

 

[Initiate_me]

A text flashed up from Deb and it informed me that all was well and the deal was done. I felt a surge of thick warm relief and also a bite of regret for not being there and not being a part of it. I would have loved to call Stewart and give him the news but it didn't seem right. Deb had done the leg work this time and it should be her pleasure. I had to let her have that.

I shut down the computer and packed up my things. It was 6pm and everyone was starting to leave and I saw Jensen and he saw me and he waved happily as he left. How could he be so happy and what was his trick? I felt I should inspect him. Pin and mount and categorise him. Or study him in his natural habitat. There was probably a lot to learn.

I thought about having a quick sip from my flask, one for the road, but the idea of crashing and killing a kindly nurse on the way to a night shift to care for ill orphan children in an underprivileged area on her last day before retirement..... put me off. It could wait for home and home could wait for me.

 

[PapaRomantic]

I watched as Deb went through the complicated procedure of securing the purchase of the LeGarre. It obviously wasn't as simple as one going into a market and purchasing a couple of items, paying for them, and then taking them with you. There were forms to fill out - money transfers, since one didn't just write a check for a $60,000 painting. There were tax considerations. There were shipping instructions, and insurance on that shipping. But Deb was magnificent with all of the duties, and it was clear that Eugene and Mitzi had been through this several times as well, so I stood back and watched the magic happen.

When everything was completed to their satisfaction, Eugene and Mitzi shook Deb's hands, and then came over to shake mine. Mitzi smiled at me and said, "You have quite a taste for fine art, young man. I'm glad you were here to help persuade us. I hope you find the piece you're looking for to display in your home!"

If they only knew about my home, they'd realize that I had no business doing what I did today, but I wasn't going to let them in on my secret. Truthfully, the LeGarre was one of the works in the gallery that had always caught my eye, but it wouldn't really look very good in a lousy one bedroom apartment in the rough side of the city.

As the door closed on the new buyers, Deb came up to me and gave me a hug. She beamed as she said, "Now is the fun part - I have a call to make to Stewart LeGarre. These kind of calls are the best!" I watched as the talked to the artist, who was obviously pleased that his work has sold. I heard her explain about the buyers, and their passion for buying works from new artists to show off to their friends. With a gleeful 'thumbs-up,' I could tell LeGarre was most excited about that part.

Deb hung up and looked at me. I could tell she was very pleased. A quick glance at the clock showed me that it was 6:30. The process to sell the painting had taken three intense hours, but Deb's smile told me what I already knew - it was worth it.

Deb came over to me and put her hand on my arm. "I've kind of been neglecting you so far, Joe, and now it looks like I owe you a date. The gallery doesn't close until 9:00. If you can wait that long, what would you say to a late dinner together?"

I smiled and said, "As long as you don't mind me waiting here with you, I'd say that was a lovely idea!"

She got a smirk on her face, and I could tell that she was thinking about something that might be a little different. "Tell you what - since there are no customers here at the moment, why don't you and I visit this gallery I know about and look at the art together. Wouldn't that be a great start to our date?"

I laughed. If she had half of the effect on me as she did on my kids when they were here, I knew I was in trouble - and it was the kind of trouble I didn't seem to mind!

 

[Initiate_me]

Home was dark but strangely warm and welcoming. I put some music on and poured myself a decent measure of vodka as a reward for a virtuous day and mixed it with orange juice and lay down on the sofa.

My phone buzzed and I looked over and saw it was a message from Pierce and I ignored it. I knew he was trash and I was done with him, done with drugging myself with his wrong words and wrong movements and touches. I had all I needed here.

 

[PapaRomantic]

At 9:00, Deb turned off the main lights in the gallery and pulled the security shutters down. She left the light on in the entrance as a security measure. We agreed that we would go together in my truck, and we headed for a chain restaurant that wasn't fancy, but would be better than a fast food burger.

As I drove, Deb got her phone out and started messaging. She saw me look over at her, so she told me she was sending a message to Clarissa, telling her that the paperwork had been done for the sale and that they had closed the gallery on time.

As we drove, I thought about Deb's devotion to Clarissa. I had never heard Deb speak poorly of her, but she and I really hadn't had an opportunity to talk about her boss together. Maybe it was best if for the rest of this evening, we left Clarissa out of our discussion. I was interested in knowing more about Deb anyway. So yes - for the rest of the night, Clarissa did not exist. It was just Deb and me, together, enjoying each other's company.

 

[Initiate_me]

I drank quite a bit more and half-watched a movie. It was a few years too old and a few lines too sentimental and a few tones too bright. It annoyed me a little but I waited until the girl had come back to the guy and they had walked off into the sunset together before I turned off the television. I knew where I was with work and what I needed to do. I felt calk and good with that and that was important. There was no worry. Just a small helping of lingering boredom. I stood up and walked around my living room and looked at a painting I had bought, depicting the old harbor at Malta, and it looked back at me. Then my bed called to me and so I went to it.

 

[PapaRomantic]

We were seated in the restaurant in a cozy little booth for two. Deb seemed to be always smiling, including while she was pouring over the menu. We ordered an appetizer and then sat back and waited for our order to come.

I was curious about her love of art, and how she came to the gallery. "I've always loved art, for as long as I can remember," she said." I was one of those girls who really wasn't that interested in playing with others. I've always felt when I was in the presence of art - even the kind of art we'd create in elementary school - those paintings and drawings were all the friends I needed. I felt like they spoke to me - I still feel that way now.

"When we sold that LeGarre today, I was happy for Clarissa and the gallery, because we were performing our ultimate service - getting good art into the hands of people who appreciated it. But it was like a friend of mine was leaving and not coming back. I try not to show those emotions when we're working with potential buyers, so I've learned to keep it in check. But when we ship that painting next week, it's going to be hard to see it go."

I marveled at her display of love and emotion for what I thought was just a painting. It was easy to see why Clarissa wanted her at the gallery. Just like she had done with my kids, the way she elevated the passion for art was a true calling, and I couldn't imagine her doing anything else with her life.

I asked, "So how did you get hooked up with Clarissa?"

She looked off into the distance as she said, "It was at a fund raising art show. I was an art student at the time at the local university. A few of us had art picked for this fancy fund raising dinner, with the idea of raising awareness of the art school at the university. Clarissa and her father were there, and she came over and looked at the piece I was showing and asked me about it. I could tell that she had a natural awareness of art, and we ended up talking for 30 minutes.

"I didn't think much about it after that, until a couple of months later, when she called me out of the blue and asked if I would be interested in working for her as an artistic adviser for her father's company - helping to decorate offices and selecting art work that would be displayed at their headquarters. It was a dream job, and I jumped at the opportunity.

"At first we spent quite a bit of time together, but gradually she turned more and more of the duties over to me. I thought it was her way of letting me know that I could handle the job on my own, but as I got to know her, I could see that other distractions got in the way and she lost interest. But she did stay with it long enough to share her dream of owning her own high-class gallery, and asking me if I'd be interested in managing it. Of course the answer was yes - it was my dream, and I knew she had the resources to make happen.

"So we worked on it. I thought we would never make it to the opening, but we did, and it was great - until the boys decided to make it their own personal playground. But the sale today was one of the reasons to open it - if you truly love art, being in the business of sharing it is perfect.

She asked me about my story, and I explained the divorce and the issues I still dealt with. By the time dinner was done, we each had a better understanding of each other's lives. As we walked out of the restaurant, I reached down and grabbed her hand, and she squeezed mine in return.

Once we got back to her car at the gallery, she turned in the seat to face me. "Joe, I need to be honest with you. You are an amazing guy, a loving father and a dedicated public servant. You helped me out so much today without any compensation promised - I truly believe you were a key factor in our making that sale.

"I could easily become very good friends with you, but I'm a little concerned. I know this may be too personal, but I need to know what your relationship with Clarissa is. It's complicated, but the absolute last thing I want to do is start a relationship with you if there is something between you and her. It wouldn't be good for her, and I don't want to risk what I have here at the gallery."

I sighed. This is what I had hoped we could avoid, but I could see why she was concerned. "Honestly, I don't know how to answer that question, because it seems our relationship changes every five minutes. It's getting old, and if she can't make up her mind, I'm ready to move on. I don't need more frustrations in my life."

Deb slid over on the seat and gave me a kiss on the cheek. She sat back and said, "I am the one who probably knows Clarissa better than anybody else. I think she still likes you, but I'm not sure she knows how to go about having a normal relationship. Normal is not a word that I think you could use about her.

"Can we do this again? I loved being with you, but I think we should move slowly and let this play out over time. Does that sound okay to you?"

She leaned in for a kiss again, but this time softly on the lips, a longer and protracted kiss. She smiled and said, "That was nice!" I couldn't help but smile as well.

I said, "I'd love to do this again - keep in touch with me, Deb. I'll send you my schedule and maybe we can find a time in there to meet."

She hopped out of my truck, and I waited until she was safely in her car and driving away before I left. It had been a very good day with a very nice girl who appreciated my time with her. I had a feeling we would be spending more time together, and I was fine with that.

 

[Initiate_me]

The next day I was up and in work for 8am. I didn't feel amazing, not really. Some of the people (I knew their names, once....) looked over as I passed. Losing in front of your home crowd...

I sat down in my office and felt somewhat trapped and felt somewhat lost. I texted Deb to say that I'd try to come by the gallery in the afternoon. I felt I'd been away for ages although I knew I hadn't and I knew she'd be dealing with it perfectly. The morning passed without incident and I found myself wondering how....people....could live.... like this. I treated myself to a few sips from the flask and felt a little better. And then a little worse and then a little better again. I thought about Joe and what he might be doing. If he was upset at me after what I'd said. I still hadn't decided if I'd been right or not. Life was continuing to confuse.

 

[PapaRomantic]

I awakened with warm thoughts for the first time in a long time. The recollection of my day with Deb - from the gallery to our dinner together last night - had brought me a smile this morning, instead of the dread and loneliness that usually greet me.

I thought of Deb as I got dressed. She was cute and easy to talk to. She obviously had a passion for art, and was working her dream job. And I remember just a few days ago how she had captivated my kids as she gave them a tour of the gallery.

Since she seemed to be so wonderful, I found myself starting with the same doubts that plagued my relationship with Kristy. Like Kristy, Deb seemed to be a remarkable woman, and any guy would be lucky to have a relationship with her. I could not tell yet whether she was seeking that status with me, but I knew our day together yesterday could easily lead to something more permanent.

So why was I having these doubts? Why can't I figure out what is wrong with me? Is it just not possible for me to find someone to love and have a wonderful life together?

It wasn't time to give up on Deb yet, but I knew if she started developing more intense feelings for me and I couldn't match them, it wasn't fair to string her out. I'd done that with Kristy for too long, and I was still paying for that emotionally.

For some reason Clarissa popped into my head. Why could I not move away from her? What was it about her that had grabbed on to me and wouldn't let go?

 

[Initiate_me]

Preparing for the press conference was somewhat tricky. There is a rather vulgar art to skirting around the expected questions and dancing over the half-truths and sliding past the obvious holes and tears in the story. The trick is to keep it extremely vague apart from a few very specific details which appear to lend credibility without really telling anything. I wrote and re-wrote the statement for hours and was lost in a sick sludgy web of tunnels among it and tried not to think too much as I sifted through the prep-research I'd been given, the reports on the company's dealings- huge parts missing, parts I assumed showed my father as guilty guilty guilty.

The phone rang and I grabbed at it.

"Clarissa, I'm coming to see you. We need to talk about how we're handling this. But I.... don't want to come to the office. Meet me in that charming park across the street in one hour exactly."

"Yes Dad," I said.

 

[PapaRomantic]

I put my thoughts of Clarissa aside, and looked at my plans for the day. It was my last day off before I started a run of 6 nights in a row - graveyard shift, alternately the most boring and most dangerous shift there was.

I hadn't talked to Kristy since the night she dropped the nasty comment on me, but I really wanted to go and see my kids this evening. Normally seeing them topped anything else, but dealing with their mom just didn't sound like much fun. I decided to reach out via text, since she would be busy and wouldn't respond back to me right away.

I wondered if Deb would like to ride over with me. I wouldn't mind showing Kristy that I had a social life as well, and she didn't need to know we'd only been out to dinner once. But I knew that kids would be happy to see Deb, and maybe that's what I wanted Kristy to see - maybe it would make me feel a little better about her nasty comment she made to me.

I wasn't happy to be thinking that way. That wasn't like me. But then I wasn't used to being disparaged by my ex-wife. I sent the text message to Kristy, and immediately sent one to Deb to see if she was interest in a road trip tonight. Then I sat back and waited to see if either one responded.

 

[Initiate_me]

My father was sat on a granite bench on a path on a rise on the edge of the park, overlooking crossing paths below aligned with deeply brightly coloured flowers and objects of poor taste such as faux-vintage sun dials and small monuments to people who didn't matter. The parks of my childhood- parks for comfortable neighbourhoods and people whose only troubles were self-made. Spoiled rich adults by day and spoilt rich teenagers by night. I'd crossed from being the latter to becoming the former and it depressed me when I thought of it.

He had the financial times open on his lap and I knew that I would always remember him that way long long after his death if that would happen before mine- I sometimes doubted that because he had that mythical staying power. Lots of people would like him to tip into an early grave but I felt he would carry on forever as I got older and slower. I was twenty-five and I didn't feel it. I felt cynical.

"Clarissa, right on time. Well done." He said and I flinched inwardly at the patronising jab. "I wanted to talk to you away from the staff." He always called the rest of the employees "the staff" in a dismissive way and I tried to recall if I had been doing the same at the gallery. I wasn't sure. I hoped not. I wasn't sure.

"Well, here I am," I said and he gestured for me to sit down on the ugly grey bench of rock and I did at the other edge and he frowned but didn't seem truly hurt by the lack of affection displayed.

"I'm not sure who I can trust, within my companies. There are a lot of men who would like to see me fall from the top. And a few women also. We need to take care here." He was looking at me but I was staring out over the park and its wonderful flowers and awful decorations.

"Did you do it?" I still wasn't looking but I could sense his surprise and displeasure at the question.

"What does it matter? It's irrelevant," He said sharply.

"I know. But.... I'd like to know anyway. For myself."

"What difference does it make?"


I thought of how many times I'd lied for the company, for him. Just because he'd asked me to. And now I felt ashamed. "It just matters to me."

He was quiet for a rare rare moment and lit a cigarette and didn't offer me one. He'd started me smoking with his influence and with leaving packs around the house, but I'd shaken it off after some effort at college.

"Just tell me. I'll do what needs doing either way. To bury it."

"Good girl. In any case, I didn't do it. It was someone else. But we can't expose them. He's a friend."

"You always said you didn't have any friends. Only partners."

"I said a lot of things Clarissa. You should be old enough now to see things as they are. That's the key to being an adult. Casting off childish delusions and really, truly, looking at life and seeing it for what it is and taking control. You should be able to see that now."

I felt that I was beginning to. I fiddled with the strap on my shoes miserably and waited for him to tell me what story we were going to tell to the press.

 

[PapaRomantic]

It was close to noon, and as soon as my phone rang, I knew it was Kristy, calling on her lunch break.

"Joe, how are you doing? Of course you can come and see the kids, they would love that. But I hope you'll save some time for me as well."

That comment didn't surprise me. "Why, Kristy - did you not damage my ego enough the last time? I'm not sure you could say anything else in the world to me and not hurt me as much as that one did."

There was a pause, and then I could tell she had started crying. "Joe, I wanted to apologize for that....it was an awful thing to say, and the kids love you very much."

I replied, "I'm not sure it's going to work out to talk to you anyway - I may have someone with me and I won't really want to leave her alone. But she has met the kids and they seemed to enjoy her."

I knew that would get her thinking, but again I realized I wasn't getting any satisfaction trying to keep her in the dark, so I went on. "She works at an art gallery where I had a security job. I took the kids to see the art and she took them around explaining the paintings. They really seemed to enjoy it."

"That makes sense," Kristy replied. "Susie's been coming home from school everyday and going straight to her room to draw. She's getting quite a collection, and wants me to hang them on her walls!"

That made me laugh. It was obvious that Deb had the same effect on the kids as she did on me.

"I'm glad to see her interest is still there. I'll come by the house at 5:30 and take them to supper and a movie. Could you find out for me what they'd like to see, so we wouldn't have to make that decision at the last minute?"

Kristy said she would do that, and I hung up. I had plenty of time to get ready, so I went to take a nap, trying to get my body focused for the changed to night work the next day.

 

[Initiate_me]

His explanation was based on, as I'd expected, speaking as much as possible while saying as little as possible. We would drone on about definitions of insider-trading and the wrongs of it and the various good work of my father's companies. Then on to The Kind of Man He Is, to include an exhaustive list of his business achievements and charity work and to be capped off by some personal words from me.

"I'll leave you to decide what niceties to put in for that part," He said and I couldn't tell if he recognised the ridiculousness of the situation or not. What nice things could I possibly say? Other than that he'd provided his children with lots of money? Maybe I could get away with just that. "He has been always a generous provider," I could say. And leave it at that.

We wrapped it up and he reeled off some final instructions and then took my hand as we stood to leave.

"Arrange the press conference as soon as possible. I don't want them to believe that we're stalling here."

"Even though we are."

"Especially because we are." He released me and gave a grim smile and put his sunglasses back on. "I'll see you soon," He said and turned and walked away. I could see his driver standing outside a black Rolls Ghost on the road on the edge of the park.

I checked my phone. Midday. I didn't feel much like going back to the office. I was thinking instead about where I could go for a drink. Or two.