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AVA TILTED HER HEAD, looking at the bronze accents and other metals Mohammad had provided for her to work with. It would be suitable for the modern pieces, but she couldn’t imagine why there’d been a delay in securing materials as simple as that. She’d mistakenly believed he had special supplies for her to use. Nothing here indicated any reason for a month-long delay.
Their lunch had consisted of him giving her specifications for the work. While she’d been under the impression she had free reign, per their phone call last night, Mohammad had requirements as to the size and materials used. Briefly, she recalled how Sam had asked for his name. It had seemed silly at the time, but there were a large number of men hovering nearby at the moment, seemingly interested as she looked over the metals. It made little sense. She doubted they knew Monet or Michelangelo from Jeff Koons, the modern sculptor. Why would they care what she made?
Uneasiness had filled her stomach all afternoon. The workspace would be suitable, and she could modify her original vision. She couldn’t ignore the disappointment that flooded through her, however, at the change in plans. Ava sneezed into her elbow. It figured that she was catching something now when they finally had work for her to do. She sneezed again, blinking as her eyes watered. Good grief.
“What do you think?” Mohammad asked, sauntering over. A large, broad-shouldered man was at his side. Ava was positive he was the man she’d seen yesterday, but she couldn’t imagine why he’d been following her.
“This will work,” she said in a clipped tone. “I should have everything needed for smaller pieces. Was another artist selected to create sculptures for the building we’d looked at?” She reached for a tissue, blowing her nose.
“Ah—yes,” he said smoothly. “They’ve decided to go in a different direction. Your work is extremely important, however. You’ll be able to make these hollow as I requested?”
Ava looked at him quizzically. “I can if that’s what you want. Do they all need to be hollow?”
“Yes, that is my preference.” Mohammad’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen before looking back at her. “You seem dissatisfied.”
“I’m just surprised. My commission was supposed to be for larger sculptures, and that’s what I’d been designing since I arrived in your country. These are much less complex—”
“You will be paid,” he snapped. Straightening his tie, he seemed to regain control. “I need to take this call. Finish looking at the materials and provide me with a timeline for when the pieces can be completed. I will be back to check in later.”
Ava watched in disbelief as he hurried off, the soles of his designer loafers clicking on the concrete floor. The other man walked after him as she was left standing there all alone. Ava walked around the metals, running her hands over the materials. She could do smaller versions of what she’d originally intended. Some of the more intricate design might need to be scaled back as the detail would be less obvious with the change in dimensions. She could weld the pieces together and make some patterns different than what she’d envisioned.
She moved toward her bag at the side of the large room, pulling out a sketchbook.
“What are you doing?” one of the men asked, stalking toward her.
She warily looked at him. “Just sketching some ideas. I’ve gotten specific measurements to use, so I want the design to look right.” He stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable. The broad-shouldered guy noticed and hurried over, talking rapidly in Arabic. The first guy gave her another hard look but moved away.
“My apologies,” the broad-shouldered man said. “I will see that they leave you alone to work.”
He was gone as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving Ava again to wonder what was going on. The group of men standing around seemed less refined than Mohammad, who exuded wealth and power. Both times she’d dined with him and his wife, they’d visited fancy restaurants, ordering expensive food and drinks, indulging in whatever they felt like. These men seemed rougher. Harder. Their interest in anything related to the art world was surprising.
The buzzing of her cell phone was a welcome distraction, and she pulled it from her purse, setting her sketchpad down on the table. She smiled as she saw Wren’s name flash across the screen, happiness surging through her. “Wren! How are you? I miss you so much,” Ava gushed.
“Not nearly as much as I miss you! I’m good. Lonely,” Wren added with a laugh. “Ironic, huh? I was used to living alone in Manhattan for years, but the moment my man’s gone, it’s like I can’t get used to the quiet.”
“It’s an adjustment, I’m sure,” Ava said. “Besides, upstate is nothing like the city. Maybe one of your neighbors could honk their horn repeatedly to make you feel at home and give you the finger or pee on your front steps or something.”
“Not a chance,” Wren said, chuckling, and Ava could imagine her smiling on the other end of the line.
“So, the guys left? Sam texted me that he’d be out of touch for a while.”
“They’re gone,” Wren confirmed. “Luke couldn’t say when they’d be back. Honestly, I’m not sure he knew.”
Ava was quiet, and Wren continued. “So he’s still texting you?”
“Yeah, uh, we actually talked the other day.”
“What? You’re kidding! Were you going to mention this little detail to me?”
“It was just for a couple of minutes. He said he’d be gone, so I wouldn’t hear from him. I hadn’t been responding to his texts, but this time I shot him a quick text back. We just talked briefly. He was worried about me,” she added in a low voice.
“Does he have a reason to be?” Wren asked pointedly.
Leave it to her bestie to cut right to the chase. “The project’s a little different than I expected,” Ava said quietly. “It’ll be fine, but I’m in the studio area now. I can’t talk much.”
“Why not?” Wren asked, clearly confused.
Ava cleared her throat. “There’s just a lot of people around.” Her gaze swept the room. The men were still watching her, but they didn’t look any more suspicious than they had earlier.
“Call me later on then. Tomorrow if you have to. You still haven’t started on the sculptures, have you?”
“They finally got the materials in,” Ava said, moving to grab her sketchpad. “Hopefully I’ll start in the next couple of days. Listen, I’ve got to go. I need to figure out the redesign and start sketching out a few ideas, working with the material. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
“We better,” Wren stressed.
“I promise we will. Love you,” Ava said.
“Love you, too, sweetie, and be careful.”
