Page 18 of Scoring Chance
“She’s a friend,” he corrected, “a really special friend.”
“Sounds like a girlfriend,” Sydney prodded.
“It’s…” He slightly grimaced and held up a couple of hands. “…it’s complicated.”
“You men love to say that,” Sydney shook her head. “It’s not complicated if the feeling is mutual.”
“She doesn’t want to be known as my girlfriend. She doesn’t want the extra attention.” Quinn stared out into the Los Angeles air. “She knows when people do a search for me, one of the things they want to know is who I’m dating. She doesn’t want to be plastered all over the web with people saying hateful things. She’s a physical therapist, not an Instagram model.”
Sydney could definitely relate. While she was making a name for herself in her own right, a large portion of the world simply knew her as Dean’s fiancée. “I know how that feels.”
“Maybe you could talk to her?” Quinn asked. “She’ll love to hear it from you! I’m sure you get it a lot by being with Dean.”
You got that right.“I’ll talk to her.” She smiled. “So,” Sydney looked around, “where is this mural going to be?”
“Oh, over here.” Quinn walked back inside his home and showed Sydney an enormous blank wall. “This is your canvas.”
Sydney’s eyes widened as she began to imagine everything she could create. The best gift anyone could give to an artist was a blank canvas and imagination. She walked over to the wall and touched the smooth, white paint. She closed her eyes and pressed her head against the cold surface.
She wanted to feel its soul, energy, and spirit. Art was best created when it wasn’t contrived or forced. “Talk to me,” she whispered to the wall.
Quinn carefully watched Sydney as she nodded and softly replied to someone or something that wasn’t readily noticeable. He briefly looked around to see if she was speaking to a spirit he couldn’t see. “Uh, Sydney…”
“Shh…” she quieted him. Once again, she felt the energy of Quinn and the aura he’d built. She saw bright oranges, greens, and purples. She envisioned deep reds, soft browns, and the darkest and brightest of shades. She saw Legos, giraffes, and a baseball stadium. She could clearly see something that was truly Quinn and couldn’t be replicated with anyone else.
She saw his entire history within a few seconds.
She slowly opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I know what to do. When do we get started?”
“Is this week good?” He asked. “I would like it started ASAP.”
“Not a problem,” Sydney typed on her phone, “I’ll have Ian contact you about the business matters.”
“Oh, we’ve already spoken on the phone.” Quinn mentioned. “I thought he told you about the price.”
“Oh.” Sydney was surprised at the information. She didn’t realized how fast Ian worked. “I didn’t know this.”
“Yeah, Ian drives a hard bargain but he assured me it was going to be worth it so I believed him. And I’m a huge fan of your work so I know I won’t be disappointed.”
Curiosity got the best of Sydney and she couldn’t help herself. “I hope it’s worth every penny.”
“Oh, I already think it is.” Quinn agreed. “And I got such a deal out of it as well!”
Sydney’s eyes crinkled. Ian told her leave the business matters to him but she wondered if he was going to make Sydney revert to the good old days of Hot Pockets and Cup O Noodles. “Is that so?”
“Of course it is!” Quinn’s eyes danced. “A personal mural from Sydney Walker for four hundred thousand? It doesn’t get any better than that!”
~~~~~
“Syd, I love you so much. You’re my heart and soul,” Dean picked out his bowling ball and held it as he stared down at his girlfriend, “but I’m about to whip your ass from here to Kentucky in bowling.”
Sydney fell back against the chair at The Bowling Spot alley. She raised an arched eyebrow and her lips curved into a sensual stare. “I like to see your ass try. You may look like Thor but you bowl like shit.”
“Watch me work,” Dean took the ball and rolled it down the lane, knocking eight of the ten pins. “Uh-huh, uh-huh. You see that? You see that?”
“Luck,” Sydney scoffed.
Dean waited for his ball to return to get rid of the final two pins and did so. He jumped ahead of Sydney in score. “Oh yeah,” he did the Cabbage Patch, “I’m good, I’m good.”
