Linda looked out around the room and gave a mostly genuine smile to the crowd.
“Hello, everyone. Thanks for coming. I’m not particularly fond of making, ‘this
is what my work means to me’ speeches, so I’ll just ask everyone to enjoy the
show. And, if it looks like a chicken, go ahead and think it’s a chicken. The
point of abstract is to decide if three squares and an oval are just three
squares and an oval or some deep, significant commentary on the deity of your
choice. Thank you.” Linda stepped down from the stage to light applause and
immediately headed for Precocious and
“You did just fine.” Precocious hugged Linda and pecked her on the cheek.
“Also, you look hot.”
Linda smiled and seemed to relax. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What’d you think of it?” Linda directed her question at
“You kept it short, sweet, and to the point. I know a number of presentation
givers that I’d like you to teach that set of tricks.”
“Fantastic.” Linda was suddenly accosted by two women in matching white tunics
and pulled away to the far end of the room.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She’ll be fine.” Precocious slid her arm through
~Just you.~
“Ice breathing asshats can have that effect.” Precocious looked surprised when
“No…”
“You’re kidding!” Precocious sounded absolutely gleeful.
“I’m not.”
“Oh, this is too great!” Precocious spun suddenly, almost knocking
From across the room,
“Eh.” Precocious shrugged. “It’s Linda’s show. If she wants me to be prim and
proper, she’ll tell me.”
“I doubt that’s ever going to happen.”
“Really?” Precocious cocked her head in an imitation of
“It’s like one of those magic eye things except, well, interesting.”
Precocious chuckled and took a few steps over to the left to look at the next
painting. “I haven’t seen this one before.”
“How much of her work do you see before it goes up.”
“All of it, usually.” Precocious squinted at the bottom right corner of the
canvas, where Linda had painted in the date and her signature. “Looks like this
one just got done this morning.”
“Linda works best under massive panic and pressure.”
“It shows.”
“Is she always such a ray of sunshine?” Precocious sounded disgusted.
“I have vague memories of her being a perfectly fine human being when we got
married. I honestly couldn’t hazard a guess to tell you how she became what she
is.”
“A shrewish banshee?”
“That’s about as apt a description as anything I’ve come up with.”
“What’s that? Dashing man falls for lovely woman when evil ex-wife slips back
in to take back the dashing man?”
“Something like that.”
“Sure.” Precocious said it with an off-hand tone that, by some small miracle,
wasn’t insulting. “You’re smart, you can hold your own in a conversation, you
enjoy my company, and you’re handsome. I think that adds up to ‘dashing’.”
“Um…okay. Thank you.”
“Yes!” Precocious pulled away from him with a blinding smile on her face. “I’ve
always wanted to be a broad.”
“We’ll have to get you a set of elbow-length satin gloves.”
“I have a pair.”
“Oh, yeah. Every broad hopeful does.”
“I suppose that makes a certain type of sense.”
“Of cour-“ Precocious cut off suddenly, and her face went pale for a second
before turning a shade of red that would have put Linda’s reds to shame.
“Yeah.” Precocious took a step back from
“Sure.”
”Oh, yeah, Linda and I have been friends since high school. We live together.”
“No, I don’t think I’ve ever been an inspiration past the occasional color
scheme that she steals from my clothes.”
“She’s painted two others, as well. One’s used by a bakery in town. The other
got shipped off to Poughkeepsie. Vassar bought it to use in their dining hall.
It gets stolen once a year as a frat prank. They want her to come up and paint
a few of their tables for a fundraiser. She’s considering it.”
“Tyler,” Precocious touched Tyler’s shoulder to get his attention. She knew
what he was looking at, and it wasn’t the paintings. “I’m going to get
something to drink. Do you want something?”
“Whatever dark soda they have is fine. Do you want me to come?” Tyler saw, by
the dark look that flashed in Precocious’s eyes, that he’d insulted her.
“Forget I offered.”
She smiled a little. “Just don’t do it again.”
Tyler couldn’t help but watch her as she wove through the crowd. He couldn’t
help but notice the other people who were also watching. He was tempted to
point to himself and announce that he was her date, thank you very much, and
anyone who attempted to prove otherwise would be subsequently tracked down and
hurt. He managed to ignore his baser instincts and turned back to look at the
painting he hadn’t actually seen yet.
“So, did you get permission from her mommy?” Julia had sidled up out of thin,
frosty air, and she looked like she was prepared for a fight.
“Did you get permission from your sugar daddy?” Tyler, even with months of not
actively looking at her, could tell by the flush on Julia’s face that she was,
in fact, in Hugoton without giving notice to whatever poor bastard was putting
up with her on a regular basis. “What are you doing here, Julia, honestly?”
“I came for the art show. It’s a big event every summer.”
“Bullshit. You hate art shows. You always avoided the gallery shows in San
Francisco whenever you could. You used to have me make excuses. You’re not here
for the art.” Tyler watched her, waiting for her to flinch. When she didn’t, he
pushed another button. “What’s the matter? Did you get ostracized from that
barn yard of hens you called a social group?”
“Actually, they love me more than ever. They always said that you brought down
my social standing.”
“So sorry I’m a self-made millionare.” Tyler’s voice was thin but heavily
sarcastic. “I would have loved to live off my grandfather’s money, but we can’t
all be brought up sleeping on mattresses stuffed with hundred dollar bills.”
~Oh, great. I sound like an overdramatic off-Broadway play.~ “And I doubt
you’re here because you’ve missed me.” Julia bit her bottom lip, and Tyler felt
like he’d been hit by a truckload of bricks. “Oh, you’ve got to be *kidding*
me.” Her face was impassive, but there was a tremor in the hand that held her
wine glass. Tyler still knew all of her tells. She’d never been any good at
poker, no matter how much he’d tried to teach her. “Why would you possibly miss
me? My money is certainly easier to manipulate.”
“You-“ Julia shut herself up and pressed her lips together hard. She wasn’t
going to give anything away. “I loved you.”
“For the first four seconds of our marriage, I’m sure you did.” Tyler caught a
glimpse of Precocious at the drinks table. She had a drink in each hand. He
looked back at Julia. “The problem is, I loved you until I realized that I was
the only one was trying to *find* love in our relationship. You’d stopped
trying to find it way before I had.” He moved to step around her. “If you’ll
excuse me, I think Precocious needs some help with the drinks.”
“She’s half your age.” It was meant as an insult.
Tyler shrugged. “Sometimes numbers don’t mean a damned thing.” He walked away
without looking back, and was approaching Precocious from the back when he spotted
Chad moving to intersect. For some reason, Tyler stopped his forward motion and
eavesdropped while the scene played out.
“Pre, there you are.”
Precocious turned towards Chad, eyes flinty, mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t
want to talk to you.”
“Pre-“
“And if you’re going to insist at talking *at* me, at least use my full name.
You know I hate the nickname.”
“Precocious,” Chad saw that she was ready to walk away, and he grabbed her by
the upper arm. “Would you fucking *listen* to me? You keep hanging up when I
call.”
“Take the damned hint, then.” Precocious looked from Chad’s face to his hand on
her arm. “If you want that back, I suggest you remove it.” When Chad did so,
she took a step back. “I don’t want to talk to you. Not now. Not ever. And, just
so you’re aware, I will be informing the police that you approached me and
grabbed me.”
Chad’s face twisted in anger. “You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not yours to insult anymore, so go stick your dick in a kiln.
I think there’s one in the back.” Precocious saw Chad’s hand move towards her
arm, and she slid away from it. “Do *not* touch me. I’ve told you that
already.”
“You used to like it when I touched you.” Chad had changed tactics from
menacing to charming.
“When we *dated* I let you touch me. We’re *not* dating. So, don’t touch me.
And calling me also applies to those new rules. We’re not dating, so don’t
*call* me.”
“I’ll call you if I want. You can’t do shit about it.”
Precocious raised her eyebrows. “Did you just *threaten* me?”
“If I did?”
“Then, you’re going to get a restraining order.”
Precocious glanced over her shoulder and shared a humorless smile with Tyler.
“There you are.”
“Here I am.” Tyler stepped up beside Precocious and took his drink. He took a
sip. “Thanks for getting the drinks.”
“My pleasure.” Precocious heard Chad curse and turned to face him. “Get out of
here. You never came to these things when we were dating, and the fact that
you’ve shown up tonight after we’ve been apart for three months might give me
just enough evidence to prove I’m being stalked.”
Chad opened his mouth to protest, but Tyler gave him a hard stare until he shut
his mouth and turned away. He walked away muttering dark things under his
breath and took the back door out of the gallery. Tyler looked at Precocious
and saw her shoulders relax. He hadn’t even realized she’d tensed up. “Do you
think he’ll stay gone?”
“I don’t know.” Precocious shrugged and sipped her drink. “As long as he’s gone
for tonight, I’m happy.”