Leighton wished she could skip the housekeeping tasks the first day involved now that the introductions lay behind them. These mundane necessities impeded the way to an exciting destination like annoying speed bumps that had to be traversed. She would’ve preferred an introductory drawing lesson, but she pushed aside her impatience and assessed the semicircle of students.
She surveyed this year’s offerings. Devin appeared to be bonding with Phoenix and Jaiden, laughing over some private joke. Jenna, her wide eyes taking in everything from behind her glasses, seemed a bit shellshocked. Casey stood near Mark with her hands in her pockets. Her forest-green shirt complemented her chin-length, dark brown hair and brightened her hazel eyes Leighton had noticed when Casey bumped into her in the gallery.
Casey gave Leighton a tentative smile that showed her dimples.
Casey’s revelation she was a mother had surprised Leighton, though she’d tried to appear unfazed by it. Her application hadn’t mentioned it, and Leighton would know. She’d read over it at least a dozen times. A toddler, too, by age twenty-five. She couldn’t fathom why Casey excluded that. She’d ponder it later. Casey fascinated her, but she needed to get back to the business of the day.
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, this is a secure building, but I want you to have twenty-four-hour access to the studio and your work.” She opened the large manila envelope she’d left on the coffee table earlier. “Both the building and elevator require an electronic key card that you’ll find in here.” She handed each new student the smaller envelopes with their names on them. “There’s also a four-digit code inside. Should you forget your card or choose not to use it, you can enter your code on the keypads. Please, don’t share it with anyone. Second-year students, like I said, yours are the same as last year. I’m sorry you have to sit through this, but I’ve made some upgrades I want to share with you.”
Some of them shrugged, but no one seemed bothered.
“The lights are motion-activated. If you arrive and they’re off, you’re the first one here. You have one job, and that’s making coffee.”
Stefan shouted an emphatic “Yes!” from the back of the room. Most of the group grinned and nodded in agreement.
“The ventilation system is also motion-activated.” She pointed to the array of ductwork hanging from the rafters high above the easels.
“All this new stuff is great, but are you sure you won’t spring for a coffeemaker with a motion sensor?” Jaiden elbowed Phoenix and laughed.
“I looked. They don’t make one yet. We’ll have to stick with the caveman way.” Leighton enjoyed the jokes and banter, but she intended to stay on track.
“These windows face north. As artists, I’m sure you know natural northern light is preferable when painting because it changes little throughout the day. You’ll notice that all the southern windows have blackout drapes on them. It’ll be a rare day you’ll see them open.” She crossed the room. “That’s why we reserve this side for other uses. Go ahead, help yourself to coffee and a doughnut, and look around.”
The group spread out, but Casey held Leighton’s attention. Casey wandered toward the bookshelf, but watching her wasn’t necessary. It was like Leighton sensed her presence wherever she was in the room.
Casey bent to read the spines of the books.
Curious, Leighton moved behind her to see which title in particular had caught her eye. Ah, a book of masterpieces by Artemisia Gentileschi. When Casey stood, Leighton rested her fingers on her arm. “It’s a great place to curl up with a catalogue raisonné when you need a break from painting.”
Casey looked at Leighton’s hand. “I can see myself doing that.”
“Yes, so can I.” Leighton removed her touch and turned back to the group. “A few final things. I have security cameras installed both here and in the gallery,” she pointed to the corner, “and the ventilation system I mentioned is state-of-the-art. One downside of oil paint is that we’ll be working with solvents that are hazardous to our health. My goal is to have as few fumes in here as possible, so I’ve installed this to ensure we’re breathing the highest quality air. If the system senses motion in the studio, it’s on.” She paused for effect.
“Now, I have some non-negotiable rules. The windows are to remain locked at all times. Keep the door to the fire escape closed except in the instance of a fire. Don’t prop open any stairwell door or the elevator doors. With the ventilation system we have, it’s unnecessary. Breaking these will be grounds for dismissal. Am I understood?”
The joking, jovial atmosphere disappeared. The second-years already knew this, and Leighton’s tone and demeanor seemed to have made her point to the first-years. They all nodded like bobbleheads.
Good. She was serious.
Slowly, Jenna raised her hand, her eyes again wide behind the rims of her glasses.
“You don’t have to raise your hand. Just speak.”
“Dismissal? Like, for the day?”
Leighton folded her arms across her chest. “Dismissal, expulsion. Call it what you will. I won’t tolerate non-compliance, not on these issues.”
Casey straightened like someone had electrocuted her. No one else moved or said a word. Leighton wasn’t sure they still breathed.
For a second, Leighton considered her harsh words, but she didn’t regret them, or her policies. She had to illustrate the seriousness of the issue, even if she frightened them. She’d put on her friendly face later. First, they needed to understand her rules, even if they didn’t know the reasons behind them. Based on their wide eyes and grim faces, she’d gotten her point across.