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AVA STRODE INTO HER apartment after a long day wandering around Cairo, weariness washing over her. She’d picked up some pieces in the market—beautiful handwoven baskets and scarves, a flowy dress, and some smaller items. She was tired, and the doorman’s note of her return hadn’t made her feel less on-edge. The opposite in fact. He’d been polite but clearly had been watching for her.
Trying to shake off the uneasiness she felt, Ava set her purchases down on the kitchen table. She’d have to buy another suitcase at this rate to get everything home. Aside from the amazing finds from the markets, she’d have all the paintings she’d been working on. The drop cloth she’d been using was folded neatly in the corner, a splattering of sienna, rich yellows, and golden tones upon it. Cairo had some breathtaking sunsets, and she’d taken to painting the city skyline in the evenings.
Her eyes landed on the paintings leaning against the wall. Maybe she would ship them back to the States rather than risk them getting lost or damaged in a suitcase. She rifled through the bags of things she’d gotten today, noticing the woven placemats on her table. Although she wasn’t having guests to dine, she’d purchased and set out four placemats, enjoying the splash of color they brought to the room. One at the opposite end of the table was slightly askew, and she frowned, positive it hadn’t been that way earlier.
“I must be imagining things,” she muttered to herself, setting her purse down. She pulled both her phones out, noticing she’d missed a text from Wren earlier. It had been crowded and loud in the market, so she hadn’t heard the phone buzz.
Wren: I miss you, bestie! We’re going to have the biggest celebration when you get home. Wine. Apps. The works. Pinky swear!
Ava laughed, remembering how she’d texted Wren that phrase months ago. She’d love to call her up right now to chat or better yet, sit in a quiet restaurant together enjoying a meal and good bottle of wine. Damn. She really hadn’t gotten out much here. Dinners alone drew attention, and although she’d had a meal once with her client and his wife, she was mostly eating by herself in her apartment. It was nothing like back home in New York where she’d see old friends, other artists, and Wren and Blair.
Sam’s missed text was there as well, but he’d simply passed on Jett’s info.
Ava blew out a sigh.
Straightening the wayward placemat, she headed into her kitchen. Ava needed to figure out what to cook for dinner. She should be absolutely famished after walking around for hours but surprisingly found herself not that hungry. That’s what stress would do to you, she supposed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted off the cap, taking a long gulp. Ava half-wondered if she was coming down with something. She’d felt a little lightheaded earlier in the day and had been tired in the hot sun. She felt worse after walking inside her apartment.
That’s all just needed—to get sick while she was alone in a foreign country.
Ava had expected to be working each day, chatting with the art students, and making new friends. Being left alone in her apartment or exploring the city by herself wasn’t the same. Her old cell phone began to buzz on the table, and she picked it up, frowning.
“Hello?”
“Hi Ava, this is Mohammad. How are you doing this evening?”
“Good,” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was nearly seven, and it didn’t seem like a coincidence that he’d called the moment she got back. Had the doorman let him know she was here? And if so, why? She’d had both phones on her all day.
“My wife and I would like for you to come to lunch with us tomorrow. The materials we’ve been waiting on for the sculptures will be ready shortly. We’ll discuss the final details and make plans to begin.”
“Wow, that’s fantastic,” she said. “I’m ready to begin whenever you are. Will the local students be there to assist?”
There was a pause. “We’ve had a slight change in plans. Rather than the large-scale installations we’ve discussed, we’ll be requiring smaller sculptures. You’ll be able to complete them on your own. I’d like for you to bring them back to New York personally. You’ll still get paid the same amount as stipulated in the contract.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, frowning.
“They will be perfect. I’m certain of it. I’d like to go over the details with you on everything tomorrow. You’ll have free reign on the overall design, but there are several stipulations I have.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“The sculptures will all need to be hollow—that will make them easier to transport,” he quickly added.
“And the materials?”
“We’ll discuss it all tomorrow. That won’t be a problem?”
“No, of course not. I was just expecting to be working on large pieces. What’s going to happen with the space in the buildings now?”
“I am not certain, but it’s no matter now. I’d like to get some of the small sculptures you’ll be making to the States. I may have mentioned I have a friend there who is very interested in them. We’ll talk tomorrow and discuss it further, Ava. Goodnight.”
Mohammad ended the call before she could say anything else, and disappointment washed over her. Getting paid to make the smaller sculptures was a way to earn a living, but she’d been so excited about having her larger pieces displayed in a prominent building in Cairo. If someone in the States wanted them, why on Earth would she fly them in from Egypt? They could’ve hired her right in New York, saving everyone a heck of a lot of time and trouble.
Letting out a sigh, she turned back to the fridge. Maybe she’d just skip dinner and call it a night. Hopefully things would look up in the morning.
