FADING (A novel)(104)

Tonight is the gallery showing at Thinkspace. I wanted to look nice, so I had gone out and bought a dress. Standing in front of my mirror, I smooth down the sheer nude lace of my sleeveless pencil skirt dress. The lace is offset by the black satin underlay and has a bateau neckline. Although the necklace that Ryan gave me doesn’t go with the dress, I wear it anyway. I love the quote and that those words make him think of me, something I haven’t thought about myself for a while.

When he comes to pick me up, he has an effortless style about him that I find alluring. Ryan often dresses in simple t-shirts and dark jeans. Even though his closet is filled with nice dress clothes, he never wears them. But tonight, he wears dark charcoal slacks, a sports coat, and a white collared dress shirt leaving the first few buttons undone. His clothes are tailored to him perfectly and accentuate his broad shoulders and chest that ‘V’ down to his narrow hips. Ryan spends a lot of time in the gym, in addition to running, and his frame is near perfection. His dark hair is slightly messy, like he just ran his hands through it, but in a sexy way.

“We need to skip this whole thing tonight,” he says as he approaches me and slowly slides his hands from my neck to my shoulders down my arms. He pulls me tight, grazes his nose up my bare neck, and kisses me behind my ear.

Cinching up my shoulders from the ticklish spot he kisses, I laugh. “Ryan, stop.”

“I’m serious. Fuck everyone. I just want to stay here with you,” he whispers in my ear.

“The deal was, if you got your picture accepted, then I got to go as your date. So, whether you like it or not, I’m dressed and ready to go.”

“Okay, but tonight, you’re sleeping in my bed. I didn’t like not having you next to me last night.”

“Ryan.”

“I know, I get it. I understand the whole Kimber thing, but I’m taking you home with me tonight.”

I slip on my knee-length black wool coat before we walk out into the cold misty night. When we arrive at Thinkspace, a chic and contemporary art gallery in the heart of the city, I look over at Ryan and say, “I’m really proud of you, you know?”

“Babe, the only reason that photo is on display is because you’re in it. You’re perfect.”

I don’t even try to convince him of his talent because I know he would simply deny it. So, I let it be as we walk through the open doors. I immediately spot Stacy Keets, the woman that originally told me about this showing.

“Candace.”

“Stacy, hi,” I say as I give her a hug.

“That dress is amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“And this is . . .?” she asks as she glances to Ryan.

“Ryan.” I say.

“Ahh, ‘Nubile.’ Beautiful photograph,” she says as she shakes his hand. “I’m Stacy Keets. I work at the Henry Gallery.”

“Ryan Campbell.”

“Well, your piece is great. I saw a couple eying it a minute ago. Do you have more pieces?”

“A few. It wasn’t ever something I intended to show anyone or have displayed, but Candace insisted.”

“I’m glad she did. I’d love to see more of your work.” Looking at me, she asks, “Do you still have my number?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Give me a call,” she tells Ryan. “We have some wall space opening up soon, so if you’re interested, we can discuss the possibility of displaying some of your pieces.”

“Will do. I’ll have Candace give me your number.”

Turning to me, she says, “And I owe you a congratulations. I heard about your audition from Sergej.”

Sergej has been dating Stacy since I met her over two years ago. He has instructed my partnering studio since I first came to UW. He’s originally from Russia, but moved to the States and danced for a company in New York before retiring and relocating here to teach.

“I hope it was all good.”

Lowering her voice, she tells me, “He thinks people will be fighting for you to sign with their companies.”

“I can only hope.”

“No hoping. I’m looking forward to seeing you perform in May.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure Ryan calls you,” I say.

“Enjoy your night.”

“You too, Stacy,” Ryan says as he starts walking us to the bar.

Mark and Jase are already drinking and mingling when we walk over. I knew they would have a good time and they’d know several people here with them being architecture majors and art snobs.

“Hey, man,” Mark says when he spots Ryan.

We all stand around and visit. After Gavin and his friend Chris arrive, I excuse myself and take a glass of wine from the bartender. Jase and I separate from the group and start to stroll through the gallery, looking at all the pieces. I know Ryan is here merely for my sake, so I don’t mind that he spends the evening with his buddies. When we find ourselves in front of Ryan’s photograph, which he’d titled ‘Nubile,’ Jase says in a quiet voice, “You’re beautiful.” He speaks to the photograph, not me. I stand there for a moment and only respond when he slightly turns his head to wink at me.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Because of what he titled it.” He turns to look back at the photograph and adds, “It could only be you.”