“I heard something about a contract this morning. What kind of contract?”
“Just some promotional thing,” Lex replied absentmindedly. “Jess swung by to tell me that there’s another player that’s in the running for it, so I might miss out on it.”
“Is it important?” I asked.
He chose his words carefully.
“It’s very important to me.”
I didn’t particularly understand, but I nodded anyway. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do, given the circumstances.
“So, what do you do?” He asked.
“I paint,” I answered noncommittally.
“You paint? Any good?”
“A little,” I told him modestly.
He nodded, and the silence resumed between the two of us. I was starting to regret coming back here and seeing him again…
“I was given an academic scholarship for painting when I was younger,” I eventually added. “Had the opportunity to go on an artist’s retreat… holed myself away in a cottage in Finland for a year to study myself and my craft.”
“That’s interesting,” he replied, turning his gaze to face me. “You must be plenty good to score something like that.”
“Maybe I am,” I confidently told him. “I’ve been selling my own paintings since I was fourteen. A couple of years later, I was supporting myself entirely through my artwork.”
“Have anything up in the galleries?” he asked.
“Lots of my older stuff. My work is hanging in a dozen galleries here in town, including some of the more respected museums. I’m a little harder to find outside of Louisiana, but some places carry my work. Some state museums in New England, a few places out west… last count? Upwards of a hundred galleries carry at least something of mine.”
Lex considered this. “That’s impressive, Riley. Now that you mention it, I can see you sitting in front of an easel… You’re good with your hands…”
“Thanks,” I answered noncommittally, giving him a sideways glance and a bit of a smirk.
“So, what do your parents think of that?” He asked, casting me a studying glance as he sipped his glass of beer.
“My parents… aren’t exactly part of the equation,” I shrugged, holding back the emotions.
“Oh,” he commented. “I’m sorry to hear it. I don’t want to drudge up any painful memories…”
“My mother left when I was very young,” I told him, surprising myself. “As for my father, he died in a motorcycle accident a couple of years later.
“I can’t possibly imagine,” he sympathized.
I continued on. “I passed through foster care for a while until a family took me in. They supported my art, and were proud of me… but they were Ivy League material, and I wasn’t. When I decided to not follow in their footsteps, things got a bit… messy. So, when I came back from Finland, I was able to scrounge myself up a decent place to live, worked on my art, and here I am.”
He nodded, reflecting on these words. “You’re not in contact with them?”
“I have a phone number for my mother that may or may not work,” I offered. “My biological mother, I mean. The last time we chatted, it turned into a massive argument. I haven’t bothered with her in years.
“As for my foster parents, no. I burned the bridge. I’m on my own… just how I like it. Not having to rely on anybody but myself.”
“You enjoy your solitude.”
“I enjoy being in control of my life,” I clarified. “It’s a rewarding feeling to not need to depend on the kindness of others. I get what I need from people, offering them a little of myself in return, and then that’s that. Besides my couple of friends, of course.”
“The two from the other night. The Japanese girl and the thin, skittish guy.”
“Yeah, Reiko and Connor. I’ve known them since we were kids… since before I began supporting myself. The two of them have been there from the beginning.”
“They sound like strong friends.”
“The only people I can rely on.”
I ordered another drink on his tab, and we drank together in silence for a few minutes.
“What about your parents?” I asked him.
Lex stiffened in his barstool. “House fire. Took ‘em both when I was fifteen. I wound up on the streets, just a year shy of being a legal adult in England. I learned some street smarts, how to fight, things like that. Learned how to survive. If I hadn’t been mindlessly dedicating myself to football, I’d probably still be there…”
“You were homeless?”
“For a while, yeah. Streets of London are a cold place…”
I thought on this carefully. “I couldn’t possibly imagine what that’s like, either.”
“It’s bloody tough, is what it is,” Lex grumbled. “But I made it out, and with an appreciation for earning things. I’ve earned where I am in the world now. You might think that I’m just off globe trotting, but I’m here for a particular reason… and just enjoying my time while I can.”
“And what reason would that be?” I asked.
Lex’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Keeping myself out of trouble, little lady.”
I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was intriguing… or that the sex had been amazing. What I was doing here, I wasn’t exactly sure… but I felt drawn to him.
Lex had a special kind of magnetism to him, and whatever it was, it cast a spell on me, tugging me closer and closer… Is this a mistake? Should I just get the fuck out of here right now?
I felt as if the decision was a conscious one, a fork in the road laid out ahead of me. I couldn’t see what lay down either direction, but something kept pulling my attention down one in particular…
Lex seemed to sense this.
“Listen,” he murmured, turning to face me quietly. “Last night was a lot of fun, and I’m glad to see you back again. I want you to come home with me again.”
“That’s rather forward,” I observed over the lip of my drink, taking a small swig.
“I thought you preferred to cut to the chase after last night,” he reminded me. It was true, and I couldn’t help but recognize how he was taking charge, sensing my apprehension.
“I can’t offer you stability right now. I don’t represent consistency or firm, solid ground. But what I can offer you is this: if you accompany me back tonight… if you choose to spend more time with me… you’ll never have a dull moment. Whatever boredom is in your life, I can make that all disappear.”
I eyed him silently.
His lip curled up into a smile again. “Well?”
I downed the rest of my drink and sat it down in front of myself, sliding my thumb and index fingertip along the glass, rotating it lightly beneath my touch.
“…Alright. Let’s get out of here.”
His smile turned practically devilish, and he clicked his fingers for the bartender. A few minutes later, and we were wandering down the streets of the French Quarter again, saun
tering arm in arm towards his hotel room.
Until…
“Bloody hell,” Lex muttered to himself, patting his pockets. “Dammit. I think I left my card in the bar…” He glanced over at me sheepishly. “Would you mind coming back with me for a moment?”
“I can wait here,” I answered.
He sized up the surroundings for a moment. “Are you certain? This doesn’t seem a fantastic part of town…”
I threw him a sideways glance.
“Okay, okay then,” Lex grinned, his palms held up. “You live here, you can take care of yourself. I get it. Just wait here… I’ll be right back.”
The English gentleman grinned, shaking his head lightly before wandering back towards the pub.
I leaned against the wall of a nearby stoop, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. My mind wandered, wondering how I might paint my surroundings.
Effortlessly, I took in the details of the French Quarter. Not a whole lot of people were out; the few stragglers along the pavement were isolated into pairs or small groups from one another, with the odd speck of a person wandering around between them. None of them had any major defining features, which pleased me.
That would make for broad strokes, I considered to myself. Put the emphasis on the buildings, and paint some ghosts to meander alongside them…
The overall lighting was dim but poetic, casting bright bursts of light in front of bar fronts and under the occasional streetlight. I enjoyed the darkness that stretched between these parts, hoping to encroach across the area… but it was never enough to blacken the French Quarter.
There was such history here, and so many drunken escapades that no book could ever hope to properly catalogue them. New Orleans was such a wistful place, so full of life and light, even in the dark…
Lex still wasn’t back. I was starting to grow somewhat impatient. He said that he’d only be gone a couple of minutes… what’s taking him?
That’s when I felt the firm hand, clasping over my mouth. Before I could even scream, I was being dragged backwards into an alley, away from the light, and a cocked gun pressed into my temple.