Page 27 of Built to Last
Bowls of salsa, guacamole, and grated cheese are already lined up along the counter, and I place the glass bowl onto a protective mat in the middle then add a couple of serving spoons. Blake cracks open our beers, placing the other two in the fridge. He’ll only have one since he’s driving and I’m not much of a drinker so they’ll probably sit there until the next time he comes over.
Tossing a couple of tortillas on a plate to heat in the microwave I ask, “How was work?”
“Not great.” He grimaces. “Some of my students are doing their best to become the bane of my existence. Happens to a few in every year group. They leave home for the first time, become wholly responsible for themselves, and they either sink or swim. I do my best to help anyone struggling with the work, you know that, but the ones that don’t bother to even attempt the coursework then act surprised their current grades are shit piss me off.” He grabs the tortilla I offer him, tossing it onto his plate a little too forcefully.
“You had parents ringing you then?”
“I had parents ringing myboss,” he gripes and I wince in sympathy. “Two different second-year kids didn’t bother to do the reading I set for over the summer break. Because of that they failed the test I gave, yet somehow it’s my fault? If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s entitlement. I gave them both a lot of chances last year, then verbal and written warnings when thatdidn’t work. Instead of taking their chance for a degree seriously they’ve ignored me and run to their rich parents when things haven’t gone their way.”
Spoilt rich kids are a sore spot for Blake after growing up in that world. At twenty-one he gained an inheritance so large he doesn’t need to work, but he always wanted to make something of himself outside his family name. Teaching creative writing at the local university is his passion and for him to be teaching at Riverbend University he has to be damn good at his job too. It might not be Oxford or Cambridge, but Riverbend is still one of the top ranked universities in the country. He loves teaching but, like with any job, there are still some downsides.
All that isn’t to say he hasn’t touched his inheritance, far from it. The man has a nicer house than most could ever dream of buying and we met a few years ago when he hired me to create a custom formal dining room set. I had been prepared to suck up dealing with some snobby guy for the hefty paycheck but Blake turned out to be nothing like what I expected. Once I stopped making assumptions about him, like a dick, we became friends pretty quickly. Sure, he was kind of pretentious about some stuff but he’ll just as soon grab a beer at the local pub as head out for a meal at an exclusive restaurant.
“Enough about uni shit.” Blake takes a swig of his beer. “Tell me about the artist. She still hate your guts?” He smirks, clearly expecting the answer to be yes. He had to cancel our plans for a drink last week, so he has no idea how much things between Rose and I have changed.
I wait until he takes a large bite of his fajita before replying, “You know her name’s Rose and I’d say it’s going pretty well. I’m taking her out for dinner tomorrow.” He nearly chokes on his mouthful of food.
“How on earth did that happen?” he asks, eyes watering. I nudge his beer towards him and he takes a grateful swig.
“You know some women actually find me charming.”
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “but not her. You said yourself, she thought you were an arsehole. Obviously you redeemed yourself. How?”
“Well, when we met for real she was really embarrassed, but we both agreed to move on and start fresh. She was still a little…”
“Prickly?” I pin him with a flat look.
“Guardedat first. Her ex is a piece of shit, really knocked her confidence. But once we started working together, we clicked. She is so fucking talented, man. Here.” I thrust my phone towards him with Rose’s website pulled up.
“This is her work?” He sounds impressed which is a good sign. Even I can see Rose’s work is special, but Blake actually knows stuff about art. He has a bit of a collection forming in his house and is always on the lookout for something new.
“This says she’s on a break. Is that just while she works on the set with you?” Blake has moved from the gallery section of the site to her ‘about me’ page.
“No it’s…” I trail off, not wanting to share more than Rose would be comfortable with. “She decided to take a break before this project came up. She’s been trying to come up with new ideas but I don’t think she’s started anything new yet. It might be a while before she starts selling her work again.”
“She’s got quite the following,” Blake muses, not really listening to me, distracted by scrolling through Rose’s social media. A devilish grin spreads across his face. It’s the look he got before convincing me to enter a triathlon with him and Ihateswimming. It’s a bloody dangerous look.
“This is brilliant. I have a friend guest-lecturing at the university, she’s organised a small gallery show in a couple of months. Just yesterday she was telling me someone dropped out. Rose’s work will fit in perfectly. I could put in a call, see if she’s still looking for an artist to fill the spot?”
I wince. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not? It’s for up-and-coming artists and Rose clearly fits the bill. This could be a fantastic opportunity for her.” Blake gives me what I call his ‘stern professor’ face. It’s a wonder any students give him grief when he has that glare in his arsenal.
“I’m not one of your students, that face doesn’t work on me. I mean it, man, Rose is really sensitive about her work at the moment. I don’t think she’ll be up for a show like that right now.”
“You should still ask her. Better for her to know about the opportunity and decline than not tell her at all. You never know, interest in her work from someone other than a man she’s becoming romantically involved with could be the confidence boost she needs to get back out there. Besides, I’m only putting out feelers, she might have already filled the spot though I’d be impressed if she managed that in a day?—”
“Fine, I’ll ask her.” I agree, mostly to put an end to his needling but also because he’s right. Rose deserves to make her own decision about the opportunity. “But don’t talk to your friend until I have a chance to speak to Rose about it first, OK? I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to push her into something she may not be ready for.”
“Fine, fine.” Blake lifts his hands in acquiescence. I stare him down for a moment making sure he knows how serious I am about this, before getting up to grab us another round of tortillas. I’ll talk to Rose as soon as I figure out the best way to bring it up.
I’m tired from a long week but it’s still pretty early when Blake decides to head home, leaving me at a bit of a loose end. Moseying through to the living room, I flop onto the sofa and switch on the TV. Even though it’s only been a few hours since I last saw her, I miss Rose. Deciding she won’t mind me watching the next episode of what I’ve now dubbed in my mind as ‘ourshow’ since she’s already seen them so many times, I pull it up on the streaming service and press play.
Soon enough I’m a couple of episodes deep into the evening and can’t resist texting her about it.
Me:
Guess what I’m watching *detective emoji*
