“Really? That’s um, unusual. Where’s Zoe, his account executive… shouldn’t she be handling him?”
“He’ll be very easy, so don’t worry about it too much. Just do your normal job, and supervise set-up and tear-down. I’ll send my assistant to help with the sales and all that. I’ll be around for the schmoozing.” Geoff straightened his hair in the reflection from his laptop.
“Okay, anything I should know? Perhaps I should just sit down with Zoe to—”
“She’s gone, Eve.”
“Gone? She quit?”
“No, let go. Have to watch expenses you know.”
Eve spied a new Rolex on his wrist and two tickets to Paris tucked into his leather bound day book. “I see. Will she be replaced?”
“We’ll have to see. Don’t worry for now. First things first, okay, send Jen in.”
“Of course, right away.” Eve left the room quieter than she came in. “Is this ever going to end? How much work can we all do before we just drop?” She made her way back to the cubicle farm, which was becoming increasingly barren. She wondered if their office was even going to stay open at the rate her boss was raiding the company.
“Jen, the Smyth calls,” Eve said.
“Ugh, the Smyth! Man, I really hope I’m not getting fired today. I have rent soon.”
Eve sat back down at her desk and thought about Joseph, Brad, and the other stand-ins for real men in her life. It was time for a change, but how? She stared out the window wishing herself into a new life.
Jen skipped out of Geoff’s office. Eve breathed a sigh of relief at seeing her happy instead of with the abused cardboard box that was the sure sign of an immediate departure from employment in their office.
“Guess who your assistant is tonight?” Jen drummed her fingers together with pleasure.
“Wow... an assistant, I’m moving up in the world. Hopefully we can both handle all of the “now” Mr. Chapman has to dole out to us. Does he have transportation, food allergies? We better get out the list from Barrett,” Eve said. John Barrett, globetrotting graffiti artist and media darling, was their most difficult client. His needs ranged from the simple yet precise to the obscene and ridiculous. It was the most comprehensive list of requests anyone had ever made. It covered everything from who to let in based on his own aesthetic of the day to the time his mineral water was taken from the spring.
“No problem, see you at five tonight for set-up okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Come hungry…lots of hors d’oeuvres to eat. Save some grocery money that way,” Eve said.
“Ooh, didn’t think of that.” Jen bounced away, thrilled to be part of it all. Eve smiled remembering when she was fresh out of school and ready to take on the world.
* * * *
Eve left the office early that day at 3 p.m., but had to stop back in before the opening because she forgot the Barrett list. The entire office was deserted, which never happened. She snuck through quietly, but the closer she got to her desk the louder the moaning got. Her desk was near Geoff’s office, so she got down on all fours and quickly crawled over to her desk. She peered around the far corner, and was shocked to see Jen sprawled over Geoff’s desk with him humping away at her. They both appeared to be enjoying it quite a bit. Eve wasn’t sure whether to be amused, betrayed, or confused. Apparently the “Smyth” objection had been overcome by Jen. She felt she’d lost her only ally left in the office. The remaining staff had long ago gone towards a more Darwinian tone with each other after each round of layoffs.
She was scared for Jen. Fucking the boss was career-suicide, not to mention a personal low with someone like Geoff. Maybe he didn’t look that way to her fresh eyes. He was certainly attractive on the outside, wealthy, successful, but Eve simply knew better. She grabbed the list and began scurrying back towards the lobby when she looked back, wondering why she had to hide during all this. She stood up and saw Jen’s wide eyes staring back at her in disbelief, as Geoff moaned and bucked harder against her. Jen quickly turned her head to the side, so she didn’t have to look at Eve.
“Oh shit,” Eve said to herself. Tonight was going to be long and awkward.
* * * *
The D.C. Metro was notorious for system back-ups. The Metro was consistently underfunded, and was starting to show the serious consequences of fiscal irresponsibility in the regions’ local governments. Eve waited the full length of the treacherous Dupont Circle escalator. The fearless ran down it, sometimes shoving, and rarely saying ‘excuse me.’ Eve felt like she was in an oppressive mental haze. She’d witnessed a colleague’s very private moment, but it was with her scumbag boss. She wasn’t sure who she was madder at.
“Doors closing,” the bodiless female Metro announcer intoned. Eve realized she had been standing staring at the doors of the subway car. Everyone now on the train was staring back at her. She let the doors close and took a seat on a cement bench by a perfume ad of a woman in a remarkably similar position to Jen.
“Really? Really? In the Metro, Christ,” Eve mumbled.
“Bit much for you?” the voice asked.
Eve whipped her head around and saw a drop-dead gorgeous man with a smile playing around his lips. He was well-dressed and bundled up for winter in a camel hair coat with beautiful gloves and boots worth a fortune.
“Uh, just a long day, I guess,” She grabbed a glimpse at his dark hair and brown eyes before quickly turning away.
“You can look longer, if you want.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“At me. I like what I see too. Your eyes are so blue I could almost see them from way back there,” he pointed a gloved hand back towards the escalator.
“I, I—” she fumbled with her iPod, desperately trying to escape her discomfort.
“You going to shut me out now? That would be a shame. I’m Matt.” He held out his hand expecting her to return his goodwill.
“I’m Evelyn,” she said, smiling, shaking his hand, and pushing her nervousness deep inside to who knows where.
He clapped his hand on top of hers, “And my night is about to get a lot better because I bet your last name is Deuchar. Mine is Chapman.”
“Oh! Mr. Chapman, tonight’s opening. Well this is... interesting,” she stammered as a blush quickly burned through every inch of her face and body. She was glad she was sitting down.
“Can I ride with you, Ms. Deuchar?”
“Oh you can call me Miss. Not married, and not old…yet.”
“Far from it from what I can see.” She could almost feel him touching her face, yet he had calmly sat down beside her. She felt energized, but at ease at the same time.
“So, another opening… I hope it goes better than my one in Berlin.”
“What happened there?”
“No beautiful women.”
“Oh.” Eve shyly put her head down. She was blowing it. Where had her twenty-eight years of experience gone all of the sudden? She felt like she was having an awkward moment in the school cafeteria.
“Tell me Evelyn—” he said.
“Oh, you can call me Eve, my friends do.”
“Eve…the first temptress. I can see that. So, Eve, what’s up with tonight?”
“Um, so, your opening, uh…6 p.m. start. The usual drinks, hors d’oeuvres. Selling begins immediately of course. Hopefully we’ll wrap up in a couple hours. You’re so popular it should all be sold quickly.” She smoothed her hair behind her ears and tried to sit up straight.
“Hold my hand Eve, openings make me…nervous.”
“Well, okay, sure.” She grabbed his hand and held on like grim death. This wasn’t the first attractive man she’d ever spoken to, but in the context of a client and anything sexual happening this was brand new territory.
“Eve, it will be a good night. I know it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because it’s already good, so, I don’t need anything else.” She smiled back at him. Guys like this always go for some ridiculous in
ternational supermodel type. She felt foolish. Her fears were answered at the opening. As soon as they walked up to the building, a crazed Russian super-bitch was prancing around the entrance swearing at the bouncers to let her in.
“Ma’am, ma’am!” Luke, their veteran bouncer, struggled to get her under control.
Matt sighed. “It’s okay. It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The pair stopped struggling long enough for Eve to find herself again. “Ma’am that’s not necessary. Mr. Chapman is here now. If he says you’re good for early entry it’s fine with us.” The super-bitch responded by spitting on the sidewalk and cussing a wild streak in Russian…or at least that’s what they guessed was happening.
“Sorry about that.” Matt turned to Eve and ran his hand through his hair.
“Girlfriend is a little crazy.”
“Not really a girlfriend.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those.”
“One of those?”
“Guys who just sleep with a bunch of women... commitment-phobes.” Eve began to silently dismiss him and get back to business.
“No, not one of those. Just haven’t found the one, so I have several instead.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, in about fifteen minutes the photographer should be here. I’d like you with each piece holding the authentication documents.”
“So, you don’t have some of ‘those?’”
“I… none of your business.” Eve arched her eyebrow and turned her back, busily fixing up her clipboard for the evening.
“Oh, so you do, have some of ‘those’... maybe we can talk later.”
Eve had been called out by Matt and she was definitely guilty. She pressed her lips together suppressing a smile then rolled onto her tip-toes, turning back towards Matt and whispered, “Maybe.” Eve jogged over to Jen faster than was necessary to get out of the situation.
“Nice to see you. Late night at the office?” Eve said.
“Oh my God, please—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, and I’m sure you don’t either. Let’s just make the night a success. What you do with him is your business, but be careful. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“I know it’s stupid.”
“So is he the ‘someone special’?” Jen blushed a dark red that spread across her throat and chest. Eve interjected, “Say no more. Mr. Chapman is here already, so let’s finish everything up, okay?” Jen nodded and ran off to the back office area in the gallery.
Caterers and the photographer arrived. The bouncers set up the velvet ropes and received the guest list. The event was going off without a hitch when Geoff showed up.
“Mr. Smyth, happy to see you tonight. Everything is going well so far,” Eve said.
“Great Eve great, and about earlier,” Geoff began.
“I have no idea what you could be talking about.”
“Okay, good.” He sauntered off towards Matt and began schmoozing with buyers along the way.
They’d sold about $100,000 so far, which was great for a D.C. artist. They could easily double the total by the end of the night. Matt seemed quietly assured and pleased. Geoff was too quiet, which to Eve meant he was mentally calculating how much he could take off the top of tonight’s opening.
“You’ve done an excellent job tonight Eve, I’m very impressed.” Matt smiled at her.
“Well, it’s easy material to work with. Your metal sculpture is very hot right now. It’s very masculine… I really like it.”
“Then I insist you have a piece.”
Eve’s mouth dropped open, “No, no, I’m sorry I can’t accept it. I’d love to, but that’s too much.”
“I didn’t say you could have it for free. You have to do something for me.”
“That depends.”
“I want you to videotape yourself...” he started and then paused to gauge her reaction, “... with another man.”
If Eve thought the offer of one of his artwork’s worth at this early stage tens of thousands of dollars and later who knows how many millions was shocking, this was way out of her league.
“Excuse me?”
He got closer to her and encircled his arm around her waist, “You heard me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes, it’s that easy. Just ‘yes’.”
“Yes.” It fell out of her mouth before she could put it back in. Eve wanted to chase that ‘yes’ and shove back inside.
“I’ll send the address to you in an email. Deliver the tape to me in person afterwards. You have one week. Give me a call beforehand, so that I know you’re coming.”
“Okay.” Eve wondered if an alien had taken over her body. ‘Yes’ to sex tapes; ‘yes’ to potential liaisons with handsome strangers. What next?
Chapter 3
“Evan,” Eve sang into the phone.
“Yeah? Oh, hey, Eve, long time, no speak.” Evan was Eve’s surfer boy of the past two years. Whenever she craved satisfaction, she called Evan.
“Wondered what you were up to tomorrow night?” Eve said.
“You, I hope.”
“Sounds good, 9 o’clock, your place?” Eve lowered her voice to quickly jam in the uncomfortable truth behind her visit, “Mind if I bring a friend?”
“Okay with me…that’s usually not your thing, well, ever.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not really alive.”
“What?” Evan’s mind just couldn’t keep up with the possibilities, so Eve decided to let him off easy.
“It’s a camera, Evan, don’t freak on me.”
“Oh, oh…that’s cool. Of course, you could—”
“No, no other women Evan, sorry.”
“Never hurts to ask. Can’t wait to see you.”
“See you then.” Evan’s blonde hair, blue eyed good looks appealed to her only some of the time; she usually went for her opposite type. Two natural blondes together could just get too crazy. Still, he was smart, and a little bit dangerous; deep down that risk appealed to her.
Eve finished her walk to a sub shop for lunch. She wished she had Jen to talk to, but she’d felt they’d separated ever since what she now mentally referred to as “the Smyth incident.” Most of the women in the office would rather stab her in the back then even have a simple lunch out, so she ordered and took a table in the back thinking about what might happen with Matt Chapman. She hadn’t considered the possibility that this could be a straight exchange, the tape for art and bye-bye, see ya later.
“Hey, nice tits,” a voice jeered. Eve looked up to see Mikey nearly bursting with laughter. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face!”
“Very funny. Sit, you. What’s going on?”
“Oh just stalking you. I was just going to the gym and saw you hiding out in the back here.”
“My usual lunch partner decided to get friendly with our creep boss.”
“Wow, sucks. You looked like you were deep in thought about something.”
“Just thinking about a proposal.”
Mikey’s hands slapped both sides of his face, as his mouth dropped wide open in silent awe.
“No, not that type of proposal. Put those gay wedding planner guns back in their holsters!”
“You can’t do that to me again, seriously. I almost had a heart attack, so at least tell me it has to do with a guy.”
“It does.”
“Not tellin’?”
“Maybe.”
“Oooh, sexy secrets. Those are the best kind!” Mikey settled into his chair; he clearly wasn’t letting her off without getting the dirt.
Eve paused for a minute and then pulled out the gallery opening brochure for Matt Chapman. She slid it across to Mikey, “This guy wants me to,” she leant in to whisper, “make a sex tape for him.”
“Fucking no way! Do it!” Mikey sized up Matt quickly as ‘do-able’ and dropped the brochure back on the table.
“I don’t know, it’s sort of, I don’t know,” she rubbed her temples thinking.
“Yeah, well, that’s what you say.”
“You’re already carrying the guy’s picture around with you. I think you’ve already made up your mind. So don’t overthink it, go for it.” He got up from the table. “Need a soda? Want anything?”
Eve shook her head. She looked out onto V St in the U Street / Cardozo district, and suddenly had an urge to visit Cakelove around the corner, and bury her face in a huge buttercream frosting cupcake.
“No way, girl. You’re stress eating in your head. I can totally tell,” he said under his breath as he sat back down.
“It’s just not really like me. You know?”
“I think it’s exactly what you need, actually.”
“Really?”
“Definitely do it. You’ll totally kick yourself if you don’t.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right.”
“Okay, cheers…to new experiences.”
“Cheers!”
“And I will haunt you to your grave if you don’t go for this guy…just sayin’.”
“Okay, message received.” Eve crammed the brochure back into her overflowing purse. If she didn’t have to see it, maybe it hadn’t really happened.
* * * *
Evan’s new place in Arlington looked like it was straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog.
“Don’t tell me you did all this?” Eve said, trailing her finger along the unused granite countertop.
“What? This stuff? No, just paid for it to get done. I’ve been traveling for about six months, and I just got back.” Evan’s good looks hid the fact that he was a very well-respected young agent in the CIA. His frequent trips to the Middle East were beginning to take a toll on him though. Each time he came back, Eve saw him get a bit rougher, a bit more tired. His cerulean eyes hadn’t lost their beauty, but the playfulness was gone.
Evan closed the door and pushed Eve up against the wall, immediately groping every inch he could put his hands on before she stopped him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. The night is young. I’m not going anywhere.” She squirmed out of his hold.
“C’mon, six months is a long time. You can’t get laid over there. I’m about ready to die. Literally,” he took her hand in his, “I think I will die without your sweet, sweet—” he tried to lift her skirt up quickly.
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