by Silke Ming
“I guess Lana chose the hotel and the gallery location, too.”
“She did.”
“Well she has done something right,” she said, her words tinged with sarcasm.
* * * *
After a quick breakfast, they crossed the street and walked in the direction of the gallery.
“What do you think?” he asked, looking at the placement of the paintings.
“They’ve done a terrific job. I like the spaces where they hung the large paintings. I also like where they placed the nude painting of Rachel. It’s exactly in the right spot.”
The light shone down on the expressionless face of Rachel and played along the long lines on her body, accentuating every curve. It was indeed a painting that would bring a small fortune, and it was exactly where it should be. Right there where it would attract prospective buyers! They were both pleased with the efficiency and expertise of the gallery staff. Of course he didn’t expect anything different from them because it was the third time he had used that particular gallery, and they had never disappointed him.
During the early morning hours before the start of the show, he attended television chat shows, and later in the day, magazine and newspaper interviews, all centred, of course, around the exhibition.
* * * *
“Oh, Summer, you look delicious,” he said as she stepped out of the elevator looking extremely elegant in her black, hip-hugging, ankle-length dress. “I won’t be able to take my eyes off you this evening.”
She smiled and acknowledged his compliment.
“Are we walking there?” she asked.
“I know it’s only five minutes, but we are taking the limo. It’s a little warm out there, and I want you fresh and looking your best.”
“Are you nervous?” she asked him.
“A little,” he said, holding her hand. “It doesn’t matter how often I do this, I am still nervous on opening night. I worry about the critics and if they will be favourable to me.”
“Well that’s only normal, but have no fear, I think everything will work in your favour, and I am here to throw the unfavourable critics back on the right path.”
“Where have you been all my life, Summer Knight?”
Arriving at the gallery, they were relieved to find they were the first ones there, but soon the invited guests started to arrive, among them Fred and Lana Podesta.
“Have you been hiding from us?” Fred asked, his eyes pinned on Summer.
“Of course not,” Seamus replied. “We have been quite busy since we got here. Are you having a good time?”
“Yes we are,” he said, turning around to see where his wife was.
She was chatting with a middle-aged couple standing at the entrance. He nodded to her and she immediately joined them.
“You look lovely, Summer. When put together beautifully, you could be quite a catch.”
Summer did not reply, and Seamus, fearing what she might say, guided her by the elbow to meet another guest. He was standing alone and staring at Rachel’s painting. The man was impeccably dressed in a black pair of trousers and a white Nehru shirt with a cravat neatly tucked inside, and what stuck in her mind most of all were his shoes. He wore laced-up black shoes that were so shiny, she could almost see her reflection in them.
“I’m impressed, Seamus,” said the man. “Every exhibition is better than the last one.”
“Liam, I would like you to meet Summer Knight,” Seamus said, moving away as another guest beckoned to him.
“Appropriately named,” said Liam O’Shea. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “How long have you known Seamus?”
“We grew up together in the Boston area,” he said, his eyes moving all over her body.
Seamus waved to her and she joined him. He introduced guest after guest to her. Some of them she liked and others she didn’t really care for, but she was there to make sure that the exhibition was a success, so that smile remained on her face.
“Summer, I want to have that painting of you,” said a voice behind her.
She turned around to find Liam O’Shea standing behind her.
“I know it’s you,” he said. “I see those curves and I know it’s you.”
“Can’t you also tell by the color of the eyes?” she asked as they both stood staring at the painting without any facial features.
“And you’ve got a quick wit, too,” he replied. “I want to have that painting. Ohne Ausdruck! Who chose the title?”
“I did.”
“You are a woman with hidden talent. You speak German, too.”
“That’s a deception. I learnt it in school and can remember only a few words.”
“Without expression,” he said, staring her in the face.
“Should I put a ‘sold’ sign on it?”
“Of course,” he said, still undressing her with his eyes. “Just tell me the amount and I will write you a check.”
“Unfortunately you won’t be able to remove it before the end of the exhibit,” she said, smiling.
She opened her program with the prices and showed it to him.
“That’s not a problem. It would certainly give me a chance to see you again,” he said, staring at the program.
Lecherous bastard! she thought, as she watched him walk away.
He returned a few minutes later, this time with a check for the amount stipulated. Her eyes grew wide at the number of zeroes on the check.
I’ll just have to humour him for Seamus’s sake. Perhaps he would buy a second painting.
Seamus understood his friend Liam very well and decided he had to rescue Summer from his three roaming hands. He guided her away, and when she had the opportunity, she showed him the check.
“How have I done?” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand.
“Extremely well,” he said. “Stay away from him. What did he buy?”
“Rachel’s nude,” she replied. “You have nothing to fear. I can look after myself.”
“I would still prefer it if you stayed away from him,” said Seamus.
“Very well,” she replied. “Then you must tell your friend to stay away from me.”
“If it comes to that, I will tell him. I see Lana, but Fred seems to have disappeared.”
“He left about half an hour ago with the older couple his wife was talking to.”
They watched as Lana flitted from person to person and from group to group. She was behaving as if she were the PR person in the room, a position she probably held many times before. This time Summer had replaced her, but she was having none of it. Summer noticed that Liam was walking toward her.
“Would you care for a drink?” he asked.
“A glass of red wine,” she said. “That’s very nice of you.”
She didn’t trust him. Why did she say yes and encourage him? He soon returned with two glasses, handed her the glass of wine, and raised his glass of champagne to her.
“Red wine makes you want to do naughty things, but champagne really makes you do them,” he said with a wicked smile.
She thought it time to leave Liam O’Shea behind, and wandered away, leaving him standing and watching her. She didn’t know if he had bought another painting, but found it prudent to stay well away from him.
Opening day was drawing to a close, and Fred Podesta had still not yet returned. Seamus and Summer couldn’t have been happier with the sales. They could leave New York right away with the money they had received and not return for the next five years.
It was around eleven fifteen when they arrived back at their hotel. Seamus went to his room and Summer to hers, but they would get together again in half an hour. He was on the telephone when suddenly there was a loud thud in the hallway outside his room. He tried to look through the peephole, but could see nothing. Then there was a knock on his door and he heard Lana’s voice. He opened the door only to find a dishevelled Fred being supported by one of the hotel staff.
�
��What’s going on out here?”
“Fred. Had too much to drink,” she said. “Can you help me to put him to bed?”
Hoping to avoid scandal, Seamus allowed the employee to go after giving him a handsome tip.
“Have you seen any reporters in the lobby?” he asked.
The employee nodded. A man in a dark raincoat had asked him many questions concerning Fred, but he had no idea who Fred was. Lana handed the employee another tip.
“Please be discreet,” she said to him.
The man thanked them and disappeared down the hallway. Seamus and Lana managed to get Fred into the room, removed his shoes, and lifted his legs onto the bed. His limp body was now sprawled across the bed, leaving nowhere for Lana to sleep.
Seamus removed his shirt and was shocked by what he saw. His body was covered in red dots, as if he had been used as a pincushion. Where did he go? Who had done that to him? Lana didn’t seem to notice as she pulled the sheet up over him.
“May I sleep in your room?” she asked. “As you can see, there is nowhere for me to rest my weary head.”
“Of course,” he replied. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready.”
Lana saw her opportunity and hurriedly put on her transparent negligee, dabbed a little perfume behind her knees, on her neck, and under her breasts. She looked at her husband and shook her head.
“Why must you always do this to me?”
Seamus opened the room safe and put all his personal papers and the checks of the night’s sales inside. There was nothing left to Lana’s wandering eyes. She knocked on Seamus’s room door, and he was taken back when he saw her provocative nightwear, but let her in and went to the bathroom. When he returned she was sprawled across the bed, waiting.
“Thank you for being so kind to me,” she said. “Should I stay here on this side of the bed?”
“It’s your choice, Lana. Wherever you want! I hope you sleep well. Goodnight,” he said, as he left with his cosmetic bag under his arm.
She was incensed. She kept throwing herself at him, but he was showing absolutely no interest in her. Summer Knight had stolen the heart of the man she had depended upon.
Chapter Fifteen
Two more days of unbelievable sales left their spirits at an all-time high. He had sold only thirty-one of the paintings, but as far as they were concerned, he had achieved great success. The gallery offered to keep ten of the paintings for potential sales and advertising, and together the two of them supervised the crating and shipment of the twenty-three remaining paintings back to his home.
Since the episode with Fred, they hadn’t seen much of him, but Lana had shown up for the last day of the exhibition. Maybe he was too embarrassed to face them. Lana said nothing about the incident, and neither did they.
“Let’s sleep in tomorrow,” said Seamus. “We haven’t had any time for ourselves since we arrived here.”
“And you promised to look after me, something which you haven’t done. You said there would be fourteen love-filled days. We are now on day number five, and the count is still at zero.”
“We’ve still got a few minutes now,” he said, pushing her onto the bed and covering her body with his.
He kissed her, and she could feel his steel rod rubbing against her thigh.
“See how ready I am for you,” he said, pushing her hand down to the rigid erection.
Through the soft silky material, he moved her hand along it, up and down, until she felt the fire burn between her thighs.
“Bad timing,” he said as the hotel phone started to ring. “Let it ring.”
“Answer it,” she said, pushing him away. “It could be a potential buyer for the last of the paintings.”
He answered the phone and sat down, staring into the mirror. He mouthed the word “Lana.” What did she want? Summer swore that she could see into Seamus’s room, and in that case, she decided to put on a show for her. The fire was still burning between her legs, and there was only one way to extinguish it. After waiting for a few minutes, she became impatient and stood behind him. She slipped her arms around his neck and slid her hand inside his shirt and felt the hardness of his chest. She closed her eyes and allowed her imagination to run wild, while her fingers circled his nipples. Running her hands ran along his chest, she felt his hard muscles as they rippled beneath her fingers. She spun his chair around and came face-to-face with him. Their eyes met and he moved his hand slowly under her skirt. She spread her legs and allowed him to explore her inviting pussy. Taking time with each button, she slowly opened her blouse and guided his hand to her firm nipples. He first squeezed one and then moved to the second, and her body quivered to his touch. She pushed his chair back, and then moving seductively around him, she raised her skirt up to her waist and lifted herself onto the desk in front of him. She sprawled her legs open and placed them on the handles of his chair, staring lecherously at him as he continued his conversation. He became visibly aroused.
“I’ve got to go, Lana,” he said, but she kept on talking.
Unable to take his eyes off the prize that lay invitingly in front of him, he began a slow massage of her clit. Round and round, he moved his fingers, still holding the telephone to his ear. Summer leaned back, widened her legs even farther, and allowed him to salivate at the sight.
He was no longer listening to Lana. He seemed to be in a hypnotic state as he stared into her exposed pussy without blinking. He pinned her thighs back with his hands and exposed her quivering lips. He positioned himself in front of her and slid two fingers inside her. She gasped, and her body rose to meet him.
“Seamus,” she whispered.
“You are seducing me, Summer, and I love it.”
“I want to feel you inside me,” she said, writhing under him.
“I am inside you,” he whispered.
“With this,” she said, grabbing his swollen prick. “I want to feel this inside me.”
He dropped his trousers to the floor and slowly rubbed his crown around her entrance. Her legs closed around his buttocks, and he plunged himself deep inside her, stretching her walls with each stroke. He moaned as her muscles flexed around him.
“Is this what you want?” he whispered, pushing his head against the mirror for support.
“Yes,” she murmured, as the mountains of pleasure surged through her body.
“How do you feel?” he asked, putting all the power he had behind his thrusts.
“So good,” she replied. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Neither do I,” he said, pulling himself out and just leaving the crown inside.
“Don’t do that to me,” she cried out.
“I was about to come,” he said, smiling down at her.
“Put it back in,” she said.
“Then I’ll come,” he said, still rubbing it around her entrance.
“Then we…we can start all over again,” she said, almost out of breath.
He thrust himself deep into her, moving slowly as euphoria spread through her body. He quickened his pace as the storm continued to rage inside her. Suddenly there was a loud crash as everything from the desk fell to the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he thrust his cock deeper inside her. She could feel his hardness massaging her inside, and she came with back arching movements while her muscles wrapped themselves tightly around his plunging cock. His breathing became heavy and burdened, and his heart beat faster and faster. With a heavy growl he came, creaming her velvety walls with his cum. He slumped on top of her, and they lay together, totally exhausted, until he felt his flaccid cock slowly slipping out and finally hanging its spent head.
“Christ!” he exclaimed. “The phone is off the hook.”
He lifted the receiver and listened. Someone was on the other end. He knew it was Lana because he could hear her heavy breathing. He was angry and started to shout at her.
“Lana, have you no decency?”
There was no answer, but he knew she had been listening to them a
ll the while. He put the receiver back in its place and pulled Summer to him.
“I hope she enjoyed it,” he said, kissing her all over her face.
“Well, she can try to listen again. We’ve got thirteen rounds still to go.”
They were laughing the following morning when they stepped from the elevator and into the lobby. Standing at the concierge desk were the Podestas. Fred greeted them cordially, but Lana’s reception was frosty. Had Fred forgotten about the episode on the opening night? Or had he been too drugged or too drunk to even know what had happened to him?
“Are your cases already in the limo?” Fred asked.
“We’re not leaving today,” Seamus replied.
An angry look shrouded Lana’s face. She had been outsmarted. Much to her annoyance, they would be spending one more week together in New York City.
“Is something wrong?” Seamus asked her. “You look a little pale.”
“The farewell cocktails last night,” she said, turning away.
“Have a good flight home,” he said, shaking Fred’s hand and smiling at Lana.
Seamus and Summer had five days to enjoy the city, and they intended to take advantage of the time together. He insisted that she shop at some of the beautiful shops the city was famous for. She agreed, and they moved like marathon shoppers through the city. They went to a show at Radio City Music Hall, two shows on Broadway, Phantom of the Opera and Jersey Boys, a tour of the city with a harbour cruise, which took them along the Hudson River, and of course, five nights of delicious cuisine in some of the upscale restaurants of the city.
On the second to last day of their extended holiday, a call came from Liam O’Shea. He wanted Seamus to see what he had done with the painting, Ohne Ausdruck. He invited them to his apartment on the upper east side of the city. Summer hesitated, but Seamus assured her that she had nothing to fear, since he would be there beside her the entire time.
They stepped out of the limo at seven o’clock, and after the doorman’s greeting, they were led to the elevator, where the doorman pushed the button for the fifty-fifth floor. Liam met them at the door of the condominium, and they heard laughter coming from inside. They knew they were not the only invited guests. He greeted them both warmly and introduced them to another couple, and also another lady with a heavy Irish accent. Stepping into the apartment, Summer could only stare at the beautiful view of the city which stretched out before them.
