by Tina Michele
*
Morgan spent the weekend organizing her notes. She had some great ideas that she hoped would show Lee that she could move past the awkwardness and jump into the work that needed to be done. The one thing she was missing was a theme for her first Dencourt exhibition. Lee might have an idea, but Morgan wanted to have something extraordinary to bring to the meeting on Monday morning. It needed to be exceptional, something impressive and unprecedented, and if she could make it happen, it would be a shining achievement for the Dencourt and for her blossoming career.
Monday morning came, and Morgan had a briefcase full of organized notes and ideas but unfortunately lacked that one sensational idea that she had searched for all weekend. She begged for a sign or for a paper airplane to hit her in the head with an idea. But alas, her two-block walk to work lacked both inspiration and flying paper projectiles.
*
Lee was both excited and nervous to see Morgan. It had been a week since they’d last seen or spoken to each other. Lee found that she was sincerely excited to hear about all the changes Morgan was planning, in person anyway. Truthfully, there was very little that happened in the museum that Alex didn’t keep her informed of, and she preferred it that way. No surprises. Lee stuck her head out of her office to see if Morgan had arrived yet, and to her relief, Alex said she hadn’t. This gave Lee a few minutes to step across the hall for some coffee.
No sooner did she start the machine than she heard the elevator bell followed by the good morning chatter between Alex and Morgan. Lee’s stomach did flips, and she found herself no longer needing coffee. She was starting to get frustrated by her inability to keep her cool or focus where Morgan was concerned. She couldn’t help but think that her father would not appreciate her inability to maintain either of them. That shot a small pang of guilt right to her heart, and she straightened her posture and suit jacket.
While she absentmindedly finished adding cream and sugar to her unwanted beverage, she heard Alex let Morgan into her office.
“Okay. Let’s get this show started.” Lee motivated herself and moved purposefully toward her office. When she got to the door and saw Morgan staring out the window, she froze.
“You are a goddess, my Venus.” She didn’t say it loud enough for anyone other than herself to hear, but when she said it, Morgan turned around and looked directly at her. Morgan smiled, and for a second, Lee felt as light as a feather. The sound of Alex clearing her throat caused her to look away from Morgan, and the spell was broken. “Right. Business,” she muttered, smoothing the front of her shirt as she entered the office.
“Good morning, Ms. Blake. How are you this morning?” she said with forced exuberance as she set her mug on her desk. “Please have a seat.”
“Good morning, Le—Ms. Dencourt. I’m well, thank you, and you?” Morgan asked as she seated herself opposite Lee.
“I’m well.” This was more stiff and awkward than she had anticipated. “Ugh…please call me Lee, and we don’t have to pretend things aren’t a little weird and overdo the formalities. I heard that you’re really jumping into work, and I truly am interested in hearing about your ideas. So please, let’s just talk.”
“I’d like that,” Morgan said.
*
For the first hour, Lee and Morgan reviewed her notes on the museum’s current exhibitions, staffing, and other general observations. Lee seemed very interested in her small suggestions for updates and was excited about the increased visibility and accessibility that those changes would bring. Morgan was equally excited that Lee was so receptive to most of her ideas. When Morgan offered an idea for the first major renovation, Lee became hesitant, and uneasiness seemed to settle over her. She decided to slow things down and throw one thing at her at a time.
“I’d really like to establish a grand exhibition for the gallery. Something that will increase visitation and donor participation, but we can go over that at another time if you want.” Morgan offered Lee an opportunity to reschedule the discussion if she needed to. She got up to stretch her leg that was still not right from the fall.
“No, it’s fine. I’d like to continue. Is your leg still bothering you?” Lee asked after Morgan grimaced.
“Oh. Only when I sit wrong or too long in one spot. But the bruise is getting better. It doesn’t look like a soggy Cezanne watercolor anymore.” Morgan smiled.
“It was a pretty nasty fall you took, and the bruise showed it.”
Morgan looked at Lee, and her face reddened. “You saw the whole thing didn’t you? Oh geez, and here I thought I got to retain a shred of my dignity.”
Lee made her way to Morgan’s side. “Hey, you still retain all the dignity and grace of Botticelli’s Venus. And nothing you would do could convince me otherwise.” Morgan felt Lee touch her hand and then instantly recoil. Morgan moved away from Lee and back toward the desk.
Botticelli’s Venus. “Venus?” Morgan repeated quietly.
“What was that?” Lee asked.
“You said Venus. That’s it!” Morgan announced.
“I’m not following.”
“Venus…Aphrodite…goddess of love and fertility. I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with the perfect theme for my first exhibit, and I think you just found it.”
“I’m still not following.” Lee crossed back to her chair behind the desk and sat down.
Morgan’s heart was racing. Instead of sitting back into her chair, she went around to Lee and leaned down next to her. It was the first time Morgan had been so close to Lee since their passionate encounter in that very office. She resisted the urge to brush her arm against Lee’s. “So…I…can I look something up?”
Lee looked over at Morgan, but didn’t move. “Of course.” Morgan reached for the keyboard, and Lee still didn’t move. Morgan smiled at Lee. “Oh! Sorry.” Lee grinned and handed Morgan the keyboard.
Morgan quickly typed a few keywords into the catalog search, and the results flooded the screen. There were at least fifty pieces in the Dencourt collection relating to Venus. “Look at these pieces. Gentileschi, Titian, Caracchi!” Morgan was surprised to see so many beautiful works in the catalog that weren’t on display anywhere in the gallery. “That’s the exhibition I’m—we’re going to do! Venus: Beauty Revealed. It’s perfect! We have a wonderful collection of Venus works, and I read this morning about a Veronese piece that goes up for auction in a few months. I don’t know if we can get the backers for it, but a Veronese Venus? I would die to get that piece in here.”
Morgan stood and paced along the window, deep in thought. Her mind was racing with ideas. It was exactly what she was looking for. It could be the exhibit that would earn her the right and the respect as a curator. When she looked at Lee her excitement fled. Lee sat at her desk with a look of unmistakable apprehension.
*
“Lee, what’s wrong?” Morgan sat calmly into the chair in front of Lee’s desk.
“Nothing. I think it’s a great idea.” Lee pushed down the lump that knotted in throat. “Tell me more.” In spite of the anxiety growing in her belly, she was excited by Morgan’s excitement and she didn’t want her to stop.
“Okay. Those paintings…they are exquisite, and they need to be seen. But not just in any way. They are meant to incite and stimulate the senses on their own, but we need to capitalize on that. We need to offer the viewers a chance to slow down and spend private moments with Venus to gain new insights and pleasures.”
Lee flashed back to the visions and dreams she’d had often about her own Venus, Morgan. The way she described Lee’s own thoughts made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Displaying those pieces was a risk in itself, but displaying those pieces with the intent to provoke desire in others the way Morgan did made her especially anxious. Lee didn’t have panic attacks. She always handled everything with a sort of removed attitude and an open mind. “I…I don’t know, Morgan. It may be too—”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Ju
st listen for a second. Close your eyes.” Lee closed her eyes as instructed. “Now imagine this. A dark room, the walls draped in thick fabric to absorb any extra light. Paintings of Venus line the walls, each illuminated individually in its own private space. You stand in front of Gentileschi’s Venus and Cupid, alone. Just you and the master, contemplating the smoothness of her skin and the innocence of her sleep. The noise and the crowds around you fade into the darkness, and you are left only in the company of her.”
Morgan’s voice was soft and soothing, and Lee was mesmerized. It wasn’t the unfamiliar face of Gentileschi’s Venus that she envisioned as she listened to the words spoken, it was Morgan. Lee opened her eyes, calmed by the sound of Morgan’s voice, her heart melted in her chest. “Yes. It’s absolutely…perfect.”
Chapter Seventeen
“This is looking fantastic,” Morgan said when she entered the latest gallery being renovated. For the last two months, they had managed to completely overhaul three of the fourteen galleries in the museum. Not every one was getting an extreme makeover, but each one was getting some sort of nip and tuck. She had Rita and the rest of the curatorial staff working overtime to rearrange works, change out placards, and update the lighting design. Although each time Morgan had an idea for change, Rita balked and pushed back. Change and advancement were clearly not things that Rita wanted to see in the gallery.
The tension between them grew every time Morgan made a decision that wasn’t to Rita’s liking, which turned out to be practically everything. However, Morgan attempted to make it as clear as possible to Rita that she was the boss without actually coming out and slapping her across the face with it. Even with her increasing attitude, Rita was an asset to both her and the Dencourt. She just hoped that Rita would begin to come around, sooner rather than later.
One of Morgan’s favorite technological advancements, and Rita’s least, was the addition of a state-of-the-art visitor audio system that worked via Bluetooth. Morgan wanted everyone to be involved, including Rita, so every employee of the gallery was participating in the information recordings for each piece. So far, things were really taking shape. Even her relationship with Lee was becoming more relaxed and comfortable.
Lee would come down and wander around the galleries being renovated, asking questions and offering suggestions, if and when Morgan asked, which was practically never. Although Morgan would occasionally throw out a question to get Lee involved and make her feel a part of the process. Plus, she enjoyed putting Lee on the spot and watching her squirm for the right answer. She always had good and legitimate ideas, and Morgan had even used several of them. But unless Morgan got her involved, Lee hovered around in the corners trying to remain unseen. Morgan thought it was adorable—like a curious child, afraid to get underfoot.
They hardly ever found themselves alone, and for that, Morgan was both relieved and disappointed. Every time she found herself in the same room as Lee, even filled with people, her heart raced and her body vibrated. She found that the fewer opportunities they had to be alone, the fewer times she would have to restrain herself from acting on her sexual impulses. It didn’t keep her from having them. If anything, the restriction made them worse, but Lee was her boss, and it was clear they both were trying to maintain a professional, working relationship. Nothing more.
*
It was about that time of day when Lee made her nonchalant visit to whatever area of the museum Morgan was working in. She tried to space them out to seem coincidental, but she wasn’t sure if anyone was buying it. To her defense, she did like to see the progress even if it was secondary to the real reason she wandered around downstairs. She always tried to stay tucked against a wall and out of the way. Her need to catch a glimpse of Morgan did not need to interfere with the work being done. But somehow, Morgan spotted her every time and would call her over and ask questions that Lee was certain Morgan didn’t really need answers for. However, she didn’t mind one bit. She actually very much looked forward to it.
Lee headed downstairs, excited to see what today had in store. She slipped in one of the doors to the Albert Randall gallery and passed the plastic sheeting that was hanging against the door. This gallery was one of the two biggest display spaces at the Dencourt, and this one was used for the visiting exhibitions. Lee assumed Morgan would be using this area for her Venus collection. She reminded herself to ask Morgan how that was coming along. Beyond the board of director’s approval of the funding allocation for the acquisition of the Veronese piece, she wasn’t sure where things stood. Once the auction and purchase was complete, she knew they would have to get Lilly involved. Not something Lee ever really looked forward to, and less now that there was Morgan. Lilly was ruthless when it came to her conquests, and “fresh meat” like Morgan was sure to whet Lilly’s appetite. Just the thought of it made Lee’s ears burn. “Not even over my dead body!” Lee grumbled to herself.
“Hey, you!”
“What the hell?” Lee screamed as her arms went whirling through the air. “Jesus, you scared the living shit out of me.” Lee clutched her heart that seemed to be beating out of her chest
Morgan was laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.
*
“Ha ha! I’m so sorry.” Morgan tried to stop laughing and apologize, but she couldn’t. She could barely catch her breath. It was unintentional. Morgan would have sworn Lee saw or heard her come up next to her. Morgan took a couple of deep breaths and put her hand on Lee’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea that you didn’t know I was here and never would’ve thought you spooked so easily.”
“It’s…whoa…I’m fine,” Lee managed to say through puffs of breath. Lee looked at the hand touching her shoulder.
Morgan followed Lee’s eyes to her hand that still rested on her shoulder and immediately removed it. It was actions like those that threatened the foundation of the walls she was trying to construct.
“Let’s try that again.” Morgan backed up a few steps. “Here I am…” Morgan said as she waved her arms and took large, dramatic steps. “I’m coming up on your right side.”
Lee tilted her head and gave Morgan a sarcastic look. “Seriously?”
“What?” Morgan laughed. “I don’t want to go giving you another heart attack. I’m not up to date on my Heimlich maneuver.”
“Clearly, because the Heimlich is for choking victims not cardiac arrest.”
It was Morgan’s turn to shoot back a sarcastic look. “Details.”
Lee smiled. “So are you making any progress or just lying in wait for your next innocent victim?”
“You’re hardly as innocent as you want people to believe.” Morgan regretted the obvious flirt as soon as it came out. “Well, actually, let me show you where we are at this point.”
Morgan walked Lee around the large open space pointing out new lighting tracks and hanging mechanisms. Rolls of the deepest indigo fabric were stacked on a cart against the wall, and Morgan brushed her hand across the soft velvet surface. The wood flooring had already been removed, and the bare concrete below was ready to be prepped for a black acid wash. It was an experimental and nontraditional method, but Morgan was already on a roll with the exhibit theme so what would it hurt? She described to Lee how the unique dark marbled texture would add to the sensual and provocative undertones of the exhibit. After the words left her mouth, she kicked herself and decided to avoid using the words sensual and provocative in such close proximity to Lee.
Her biggest complaints about large galleries were that they either dumped you into a stark white gaping room lined with frames or treated you like a mouse in a maze weaving in and around oddly placed walls and glass cabinets. Although cabinets and cases were for the protection and preservation of valuable works, she didn’t care for it. It was an unfortunate necessity to protect the piece from damage, be it from vandals, thieves, or the environment.
“I’ve made the final list of pieces that we’re pulling from the collection, and Rita tells me that every
thing for the auction is right on schedule,” Morgan said.
“Oh, excellent. I was going to get with you on that. I know this is your first auction so if you have any legal questions or need any documents reviewed, we can call Lilly Kent, our attorney.”
“Lilly. I love that name. Why does it sound familiar? I don’t believe I’ve met the attorney yet, have I?”
“I’m sure you’ve heard Alex say her name upstairs, probably followed by an expletive or two. And you would remember had you ever had the…pleasure…of meeting the woman.” Lee failed at hiding her blatant sarcasm.
“Rita is working on it, but I did have a few questions that she didn’t have time to answer the other day. If you already have something scheduled I can pop in and at least say hello.”
“Okay. I’ll have Alex put a meeting on the calendar.”
*
On Wednesday morning, Lee waited in her office for Lilly to arrive. She had called her and asked that she arrive thirty minutes before the meeting with Morgan because she felt that she needed to set some ground rules for the game she knew Lilly would start. First and foremost, Morgan was off limits. Lee needed to make that perfectly clear. Yet she knew that the moment she told Lilly no there would be no stopping her. Of that, she had personal experience.
“No. Nothing good would come of that!” she warned herself. “But wait. If I can get Lilly to focus on me, it shouldn’t be that hard. Lilly is predictable and is motivated by her pants—” Lee’s contemplation was cut off by Alex’s knock at the door.