Michael hated the stillness. The silence. He hated how hushed everyone was, as if it was rude to speak in front of art, as if they would be disrespecting their dead creators. He didn’t understand the social conventions, and hated that he was forced to fit into their expectations as soon as he walked through the door.
He passed the time by people watching. He observed them as they strolled in, sometimes holding hands with the people they came with. Couples, friends. They smiled at the art, laughed quietly to each other. Some even dared to take pictures, despite the signs put up around the gallery strictly forbidding them to. He wandered around idly, but saw none of the paintings he pretended to study. Watching people, he thought, was way more interesting.
So, when she entered, he was confused by the expression on her face. She was alone. That was the first thing he noticed. Everyone else came with at least one other person, but not her. She walked through those doors with her shoulders set back and her chin jutting out. Purpose in her stride. Not strolling at a casual pace as everyone else did, even though she did slow down a bit as she began to take in everything around her.
But she lingered. At each painting she stopped by, she lingered. Far longer than anyone else, who only ran their eyes over the piece, nodding appreciatively and moving along.
Not her. She stopped. She stared. She studied. She crossed her arms, observing the paintings with far more scrutiny than everyone else, with an almost stern criticism in her eyes. As if she were a school teacher grading a student’s work. From the unimpressed look that sprang into her eye, Michael almost expected her to whip out a pen and scribble a large ‘F’ on the painting.
He had to fight back a smile at this mental image.
Then, she moved on. She did this again and again, stopping and staring. Studying intently. He let his eyes trail over the back of her. She wore a white blouse tucked neatly into a pencil skirt, revealing a slender waist. There was a small slit up the back of her skirt, that revealed shapely calves when she moved.
Michael forgot everyone else around him. The woman was a beauty, hair cropped sharply at her shoulders. It fit her—not just the shape of her face but her entire attitude. The school teacher aura she exuded. The hot school teacher.
After a moment, Michael dismissed the thought. She wasn’t a school teacher. It didn’t fit her quite as well as he first thought. She was more than that, more powerful. It resounded in her steps, in the way she never—not even for one second—let her chin fall any lower than it was. Everything about her screamed power and success.
And perfection.
Perfect clothes—not too tight but tight enough to show off her toned muscles, probably product of regular gym appearances.
Perfect hair. Straight, black and not a strand out of place.
Perfect… everything now that he thought about it. Even her face, sharp and striking, as beautiful as a thorny rose.
For the first time in quite a while, Michael was interested.
How should he approach her? She didn’t seem like the type to like small talk, so if he approached her, he would have to make sure he didn’t blow the one chance he had before she dismissed him.
And she would dismiss him, he knew. Perhaps he had ten seconds to hold her interest before she told him to go away. Ten seconds. That’s all he was giving himself.
He was even more intrigued now.
He turned in her direction. She wasn’t far from the door, having spent a great deal of time examining the small impressionist painting in front of her. Michael kept his eyes on her, excitement growing inside him the closer he moved. Oh, this was going to be fun.
But he didn’t get the chance to do anything. Before he got there, someone else approached her. He was tall, towering over her and it wasn’t until that moment did Michael realize how short she actually was, even in her heels. The man who approached her was strikingly handsome and Michael wondered if he was her boyfriend or husband. A woman like that surely could not be single.
Except, she didn’t even look at him. Her eyes never moved from the painting, not even when the guy said something to her.
No response.
A mixture of desperation and annoyance filled the man’s eyes, which had Michael blinking in surprise. It seemed this had gotten even more interesting. He wandered closer, pretending he was studying a small piece by a local artist, just to be in earshot.
“Elizabeth, don’t ignore me,” the guy hissed.
Elizabeth took a moment to respond, done with studying the painting and moving on to the next one. The man trailed behind her. “I suppose I shouldn’t, since ignoring you clearly doesn’t work.”
Michael didn’t know what he expected to hear when she spoke, but her voice was just as perfect as the rest of her. Strong, but low. As if she didn’t need to raise her voice to be heard over a crowd.
“Why won’t you answer any of my messages?” the man demanded. “I just wanted to talk.”
“And I don’t. Can’t you tell?”
“Liz—”
“Elizabeth,” she corrected. “Hunter, what we had was over. There’s no need for you to be here, because there’s no changing my mind on this.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” The desperation outweighed the annoyance now. “I take it back. I can continue with the arrangement we had. Just… just forget I said anything.”
“It’s too late for that, Hunter, and I’m sure you know that.” Finally, she turned to him, putting her back to Michael who was trying his best not to look too obvious as he eavesdropped. “As I said, it was fun while it lasted. But what you said can’t easily be ignored. And it’s just as well, anyway. I am looking to replace you.”
Hunter jerked in shock, eyes searching her face. “Replace me?”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a tone that didn’t sound sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to say replace. It’s just that our relationship had been nearing its expiration date, so it’s just as well that we end it now before anything gets out of hand. You’re a business man, Hunter. I’m sure you understand where I’m coming from.”
“No.”
Elizabeth paused and looked at him. “Excuse me.”
“No. I won’t allow it. You’re not the only one who knows how to make demands, Elizabeth.” Wise man. She wouldn’t have taken kindly to the nickname this time around. “You can’t control this like you do everything else.”
“I suppose you might be right on that one.” She shrugged. “I can’t control the fact that you fell for me. But what I can control, is how much more you do. I’m not good for you, Hunter. You deserve someone better.”
“I deserve you.”
She didn’t respond straightaway. “I won’t give you what you want. So, find someone else who will. Now please, leave me alone while I still have my patience.”
Elizabeth attempted to walk away but Hunter didn’t plan on letting her go. He grabbed her arm, keeping her there. She whirled on him, no doubt about to lash out, but Michael swooped in before she could.
“Elizabeth, darling,” he crooned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Terribly sorry I’m late. You see there was way too much traffic and when I finally got out of it, would you believe that I almost hit a dog? Poor thing came out of nowhere. Of course, I had to stop to make sure that he was alright and see if I could find his home, and by that time, it was already much too late—”
“Who the hell are you?” Hunter demanded.
Michael looked up in surprise, as if he hadn’t noticed the other man was standing right there. “Who am I? I’m her date. And who are you, sir?”
Hunter looked incredulously at Elizabeth. “Is that true?”
“Ah, truth. What is truth?” Michael asked whimsically “I believe that’s one of the great unanswered questions of the universe. I mean, it all depends on your own reality, right? Real truth is… abstract, untouchable, and a bit—”
“Is this true, Elizabeth?” Hunter asked more strongly this time.
Elizabeth caught Michael’s eyes—and his wide, knowing smile. He knew she would catch on quickly. “Yes,” she answered. “He’s my date.”
“Already? You’ve replaced me already?”
“As I said, Hunter, you just aren’t what I need. I merely found someone who is. Now,” she took Michael’s arm from around her shoulders and clasped his hand. Hunter’s eyes fell to their entwined fingers and his features darkened. “If you’ll excuse us, please.”
He let them go. Hand-in-hand, Michael and Elizabeth walked away, Michael trying his best not to whoop in elation. He knew Hunter was still watching, and when they stopped at another painting, he watched him with his peripherals.
“How long do you think he’s going to stand there and stare at us?” he whispered to Elizabeth with a smile.
“Hopefully not for too long. I’d hate to keep up this charade for longer than absolutely necessary.”
Ouch. It seemed she didn’t care who she directed her icy words at. “Well, it looks like you really got him hooked, since he clearly wants to tear my head off right now.”
“Hunter’s harmless,” she said offhandedly. She tucked her chin into her fingers, eyes roving over the painting they stood before. Hunter was still in the distance watching them, as if trying to gauge the truth. “He’s just upset that I ended things between us, and his pride is wounded. He’ll get over it soon.”
“Yeah?” Michael tried not to look back at him. Somehow, he didn’t believe her words, but soon enough, Hunter got to moving, storming out of the gallery.
Elizabeth didn’t even look away. “He’s gone now,” she said. “Thank you for your help.”
Straight to the point. Michael grinned. “You owe me big time.”
He sort of expected her to ignore him, sort of expected her to tell him to go away. She did both. Without looking away from the painting, she said, “I don’t owe you a thing, because I didn’t ask for your help. But thank you all the same. If you’ll excuse me.”
When she turned and walked away, he made sure to stay close to her. Elizabeth glanced at him, slightly annoyed.
“You don’t think that was a top-notch performance back there?” Michael asked. “I think I did pretty well as your pretend boyfriend.”
“What do you want?”
“Let me take you on a date, Liz.”
She stopped and looked at him. “I didn’t come here to find a date.”
“Blessings come when you least expect them to.”
“You’re calling yourself a blessing?”
“One wrapped up in a beautiful disguise.” He grinned. “What arrangement was he talking about?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“I just want to know if it’s an arrangement I can get on board with.”
Elizabeth looked him up and down, slowly. With any other person, Michael wouldn’t have cared, would have proudly jutted out his chest and let himself be observed as if he was the best cock in the coop. But Elizabeth’s eyes held nothing—and it unnerved him for some reason.
“I don’t think so,” she said finally.
“How can you tell? You don’t even know me.”
“Just as how you don’t even know me? Funny how that works.”
“A date,” he said, coming closer. She didn’t step back, only met his eyes. “That’s all I ask.”
“I think you have more important things you need to take care of.” On that, she turned and walked away.
Michael stared after her in amusement before he hurried to catch up. “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Leave me alone.”
“Not until you tell me your name.”
“You already know my name.”
“Elizabeth,” he said. With that same wide grin, he put his head in her line of vision, blocking her view of the statue she studied. Elizabeth only stepped calmly to the side. His grin widened. “But Elizabeth what?”
“After I call the police on you for harassing me, make sure to ask them that question.”
Double ouch. Michael straightened. “Alright, alright,” he conceded. “I’ll give for now. But don’t say I didn’t try to help with your Hunter situation.”
“Your concern is flattering,” she said dryly.
Michael couldn’t stop smiling. She ignored him, eyes fixed dead ahead. He might as well not even have been standing right next to her. The way she completely ignored his presence was… fascinating.
“Goodbye, Liz,” he said softly as he began to walk away. Not to his surprise, she neither said a word to him nor turned around.
Well, at least she didn’t correct him on her name.
He would take that as a small win.
Michael – 1. Hunter – 0.