Getting To Know You

Cheryl was pleased by the mellow chime of the doorbell. Very English.

The housekeeper was straight from a book. Elegant, well-spoken and so clean!

Mrs. Brown led Cheryl Pickert to Karen’s room with a smile. Cheryl was delighted by the decor all around her, the entire way to the guest’s floor.

She loved the striped detail, the handsome staircase- because a solid wood like the one under her hand could only be described as handsome. Everything tastefully spoke of wealth. It was in excellent condition and Cheryl couldn’t have picked a better place for her friend to convalesce than this stylish haven.

Karen’s door was ajar and Mrs. Brown knocked softly.

“Come in!”

Cheryl grinned at the sound of her friend’s southern sigh. Mrs. Brown ushered her in and left the two young ladies alone.

“Darling, you should get your arms broken more often! This room is beautiful...” she said enthusiastically while carefully hugging the smaller woman.

Cheryl was tall and her dark brown hair fell down her back in layers, framing her oval face in which dazzling blue eyes sat under fine, straight eyebrows. Right now, her naturally pink lips were spread in a naughty smile.

“When do I get to meet your handsome British villain?”

“He’s not my anything!” protested a laughing Karen as Cheryl flopped onto the bed. “And he’s certainly not a villain!”

“Evidently not,” Cheryl murmured, appreciating the fine linen. Then she looked up and patted the bed next to her. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense! Tell me about Jay Madison.”

So Karen told her how they’d met, how horrible missing the interview with Madeline Cabot had felt and how Jay had come in handy for accommodation.

Cheryl listened attentively, making sympathetic noises in all the right places, chuckling about the water problem, but by the end of the account she was all but dancing on the bed with excitement.

“This is exactly what you need!”

Karen knew that her friend could only mean one of a few things so she decided to venture a simple question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing he’s an art dealer and he owns one of the classiest art galleries in North America, with an awesome selection of modern artists work.”

Karen had thought of that. “Yes, but-”

“Wait. And he obviously takes you seriously if he wants to see your stuff- or at least willing to see if you’re worth taking seriously. You could get some great exposure.” She ticked the points off on her long fingers. “Secondly, now that you’re not house-hunting, you can finish all your works in progress. I am dying to see the legendary studio by the way. Thirdly, my lovely southern belle, he’s a hell of a lot more interesting than Harry!”

“But-”

“I know you’re not dating Harry, but you need to live a little more, meet new people.”

“I meet people all the time, Cheryl.”

“Ha! Of course you do- your speechless students don’t count. You haven’t even accepted a single of my invitations.”

“Because I’m always busy!” she protested laughingly.

“Well, thank God for Mr. Madison because all the time you used to spend commuting has been cut in half, although your Daddy’s beautiful gift will get even less exercise,” she finished with a sniff, thinking of her friend’s car.

Her father hadn’t been able to resist sending her off with a brand new vehicle and Karen hated using it for that reason.

“There are a few problems with your little ideas,” Karen told her friend.

Cheryl’s eyes twinkled, noting immediately that her friend hadn’t blown off the ideas completely.

“Problem number one?”

“I can’t draw well enough to complete anything with my left hand,” she said pointedly lifting her casted hand.

Cheryl wrinkled her nose. “By the way.” Sigh. “Problem number two.”

“Well, I can’t get dressed on my own- let alone put on makeup- so I don’t see myself catching a man any time soon.”

Cheryl almost told her friend she was crazy to even hide that gorgeous skin but instead she said, “Well, I don’t mind dressing you for the big nights but feel free to roam around naked. I’m sure Jay would appreciate it.”

“Don’t be a cow,” Karen chuckled.

“Is there a problem number three?”

“Daddy doesn’t like British men.”

Cheryl fell silent for a moment, regarding the pretty girl with the sunshine in her hair. “We’ll cross that bridge when- if!- we reach it.”

Karen shrugged, nonchalant. “I’m not saying I’m tied by my dad’s bias or whatever... Jay doesn’t like me that anyway. I’m just his house guest.”

At that Cheryl Pickert from Los Angeles barked with laughter, “Ha! All men like you like that darling... now do you want to look like the fragile southern doll you are or like a brooding artist on the wings of success?”

Jay got home and was greeted in the kitchen by a pair of eager puppies and Mrs. Brown.

“Whose car is out front?”

“A visitor for Miss Fox.”

“Hmm.” Jay put the grocery bag down and headed upstairs, first picking up his mail and phone messages from the table by the stairs.

As he paused, her heard Karen laugh and a door shut somewhere above him. Someone was then running lightly down the stairs. Jay waited and sooner than later the willowy Cheryl appeared before him.

“Hello, I’m Cheryl Pickert, Karen’s girlfriend. You must be Jay.”

“Er- yes. Pleased to meet you, Cheryl.” Pause. “Going so soon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to cook for my brother or he’ll burn down my house!”

They shook hands quickly and Cheryl was halfway out the door.

“See you around. Enjoy the artwork!” she called before closing the door behind her.

“Bye,” Jay said to the door.

To refresh after a day at work, Jay took a shower and poured himself some water from the bar in his bedroom. He took his time getting dressed and then went downstairs to wait for Karen. It surprised him pleasantly to find her seated in the living room waiting for him.

“Hello Jay.”

“Good evening, Karen. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You look lovely.”

She smiled, flushing slightly at the polite compliment. “Thank you.”

Her host helped her on with the jacket she had placed on a chair nearby and they headed for the Bentley. Jay opened the car door for her and waited for her to be seated before closing it and going round to the driver’s seat.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your work,” the gallery owner told her as they drove through the quiet streets of his affluent neighbourhood.

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I would rather find out first hand just what kind of talent is living under my roof.”

“I see… I hope you’re not disappointed,” she murmured.

There was a pause before her said, “I met your girlfriend at the door. She told me to enjoy it.”

Karen chuckled. “Cheryl is one of my greatest champions,” she said softly.

Jay could tell it was said with fondness.

The two of them drove in companionable silence. The only noise as they travelled through quiet streets came from a jazz cd playing in the car. As they neared the hub of the city, the street lights became brighter and there were more people to be seen.

“I hope you don’t mind if I conduct a speck of business while we’re at Basil Carter.”

“Not at all,” she said.

“Thank you.” He parked right across the street from the gallery.

Karen watched him as he came around to assist her. It was her chance to look at him more closely. As usual, she enjoyed the view. This evening he was wearing all dark clothes and he pulled it off without looking drab.

She looked down at her hands. They were itching. She was given no time to consider this because at that point, he opened her door and led her across the street to the popular, ultramodern Basil Carter Gallery.

Inside the front doors was a poster size map of the floor plan, stating whose work was on exhibition Jay walked over to it, ignoring the people moving past him up the stairs to the first floor. His eyes scanned the map and chuckled. Moving away from the map, Jay returned to where the small Karen Fox stood in the immense emptiness of the gallery lobby. She was looking up at the famous skylight with the beautifully cut glass.

“I never thought I’d meet an artist who considered the main exhibition ‘a few pieces’.”

Karen’s cheeks flushed and she shrugged. “So I prevaricated.”

Jay laughed out loud. “Come on. Now I’m dying to see this.” He took her free arm and then went through the main set of glass doors which were all that separated them from her artwork.

It was a large room with subtle lighting and grand pink marble floors. This section of the gallery was still covered by the spectacular slanted glass roof and the lighting within could only have been mastered by someone who understood both visionary art and the need to preserve the integrity of pieces of art. Direct sunlight could easily damage works done on certain surfaces but the work in Basil Carter was in no danger and the skylight with the solid roof above the second floor restaurant.

Karen walked around the room with Jay who looked on, mostly in silence, asking only a few questions. She saw him frown a few times but she offered no excuses and asked no questions of her own.

When they had gone round once, Jay led her through the gallery, hardly glancing at any of the other work. Once she realised where they were going, she cast a curious glance at her escort’s face.

It was an unreadable mask.

He reached Basil Carter’s office and knocked twice. When he heard the cursory ‘come in’, Jay entered the room firmly holding onto Karen’s elbow so she had no choice but to go inside with him.

Jay closed the door behind and said in disdaining tones Karen had never heard him use before, “You’ve always been the worst kind of art thief, pilfering the great artists, but how did a goat as blind as you find Fox?”