by Penny Ward
I laugh out-loud again as Joel approaches me and his strong hand rests on my butt.
“But you are the best masterpiece I have ever seen,” he kisses my neck.
“Don’t just think that because you painted a picture of me, all is forgiven,” I moan as he continues to kiss my neck.
“No?” he doesn’t stop kissing me. “Then tell me how to change your mind.”
“Fuck me hard over that bench and all will be forgiven.”
“As you wish…”
18
Three months later…
The buzz in the gallery is overpowering.
I can almost taste the excitement, the energy and the elation. The New York art crowd love viewing Joel Mitchell’s new work almost as much as I love showing it.
“You put us on the map, baby,” Marissa whispers in my ear as she looks around the room. “All the big players are here. They all know we exist now. This has put us in the big league.”
“It’s not my work they’ve come to see.”
She kisses me on the cheek and whispers into my ear, “But it is your butt they are looking at.”
I can’t help but laugh. It is true – the centerpiece of the exhibition by the still secret Joel Mitchell is my butt. In all its naked glory. Hanging up in the middle of my gallery. I must say, Joel certainly did it justice. It looks better on the painting than it does in the mirror. And I’ve looked at it a lot in the mirror since he first showed me the picture. Everyone in the room wants to know how we landed such a big exhibition, the biggest of the year, but we can’t tell anyone. It would be hard to explain anyway.
What would I even say? ‘I was having amazing sex with this guy and it turns out that he is the man we’ve all been looking for.’ Nope. There is no way I am telling that story to anyone but Marissa.
Marissa said she had suspicions that Mr. White was an artist. She would occasionally see a spot of paint on his hand, or she would be impressed by the amount he knew about brushstrokes, but she never had any idea that he was the Joel Mitchell. I am happy for Marissa, and the gallery. All the hard work that she has put in over the years has finally paid off. Right now, people want to be a part of what she has presented. Right now, she is at the pinnacle of the art world.
And I am happy about the faith that she showed in me. She didn’t have to trust me with this job, but she saw something others didn’t.
Joel and I have been dating for three months now and everything is going perfectly. It couldn’t be going better. The man is perfect in every way and I feel like we are perfect together.
“I think I would like to have this one,” Mr. White whispers over my shoulder.
“Hello Mr. White. Which painting were you talking about?”
“Not a painting. I was talking about this one,” one of his hands cheekily squeezes my butt.
“It’s all yours…” I smile. “As long as you promise no more paintings about my body parts.”
“No more paintings,” my man smiles. “Sculptures on the other hand…”
The End
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