Page 47 of Work: Strictly Professional

Barbara Anne and Sage, both a vision in outfits that screamwe coordinated this look ahead of time, stop by and make uncomfortable small talk. Derek puts an arm around me and pulls me toward him, letting his hand drop and settle so low on my hip that he’s basically touching my ass. I use all my focus to sit dead still, but after a few minutes, that starts feeling weird and unnatural, so I squirm a little to rectify things. His hand drops even lower. He’s not basically touching my ass now. He’s touching it for real. Lightly, more or less just resting his hand on the upper quadrant of my cheek.

“Sad,” says Derek, startling me so much I laugh loudly, though I couldn’t possibly say what’s funny.

“No,” squeaks Jamie. “Happy!”

“Ugh, wrong again!” Derek howls as though the defeat has annihilated him.

“All done,” says Jamie, looking pleased with his efforts.

“All done?Absolutely not. What about Wyn’s little pigs? Don’t they deserve faces?”

I dig my feet into the sand and wriggle my toes like Derek did. Jamie moves over and sets to work.

“Now, be gentle with Wyn’s toes, Jamie,” warns Derek. “He’s ticklish.”

“How do you know I’m—” I cut myself off, burning bright red when I realize how he knows. He smiles and doesn’t answer, and for a really crazy moment, I find myself thinking that maybe it’s a secret smile. A real smile. A smile from him to me. A smile between us only.

I shake it off quickly and have three large gulps of my drink.

It’s a fake smile. That’s what it is.

“So,” I say, “what kind of art do you like?”Oh Jesus. I know, I know. I heard it. It was bad. It was so bad it was only a hair better than“Do you come here often?”“I mean, who’s your favorite artist?”Hmm, not sure why I think that’s any better.

Fortunately, Derek seems happy enough to humor me. “Dead or alive?”

“Alive.”

“Hmm, that’s a tough one. There are so many I like, but if Ihadto choose one, I’d have to go with Andy Montgomery. He’s a New York-based artis—”

“You like Andy Montgomery?” It comes this close to turning into a squeal, but I manage to rein it in at the last second. I clear my throat for good measure. “He’s like my favorite artist ever. Dead or alive, Andy Montgomery’s my favorite.”

“No kidding, you know his work? I love it. I caught his latest exhibition last time I was in New York to see Miller and Ryan. It was unreal.”

“You sawAll Roads Lead Here? Seriously! Oh God, I’m so jealous. I love his portraits. I don’t know what it is about them that’s so moving. It’s like he captures a, a…” I search for the word but can’t find it.

“A feeling. I read somewhere once that he paints feelings, not faces, and I thought that was a perfect description of his work.”

I’m very sad that Derek is displaying sensitivity and emotional intelligence on top of everything else, but what can I do? I hardly ever have a chance to talk about art with my friends, and I love this kind of thing. “What’s your favorite piece by him?”Don’t sayHeart, don’t sayHeart, don’t sayHeart.

“Heart.” Ugh. Fuck my life. “It’s one of his early pieces. He painted it when he was in college. It’s a self-portrait. It has a simple, clean background, a full figure, and a blurred-out face. He has a hole in his chest, and…”

“He’s holding his bleeding heart in his hand.”

“You know it?”

“It’s my favorite too,” I say softly.

“God, I’ve spent years trying to buy it. Did you know it’s supposed to come with a story?”

“A story? No, I didn’t know that. What’s it about?”

“I don’t know. That’s what kills me. Apparently, it gets sold with the painting. No one knows what it’s about or what the significance of it is, except for the owner. It drives me insane. I’m serious, Wyn.” I stifle a giggle at the torment on his face. “The not knowing. It keeps me awake. I’ve made so many goddamn offers on that painting over the years, but the owner won’t part with it.”

“You should commission a piece. I’ve heard he takes commissions sometimes.” Strictly speaking, I’ve heard that once in a blue moon, if a face is completely singular and wholly unforgettable, Andy might consider taking a commission to paint it.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I could totally see you in a suit, all imposing and faceless and shit.”

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