Mary nodded without making eye contact. She certainly wasn’t expecting this. She checked the reverse of the invitation – again – no email or phone number.
‘That’s going to be an amazing exhibition.’ Betsy’s excitement was palpable. ‘I’ve been waiting for it for months, but it will only be open to the public from next Monday on. That, right there…’ she, once again, pointed to the invitation that Mary was holding, ‘… is a hot, hot ticket. You really have to be in with the in-crowd, or very rich, to manage to get your hands on one of those.’
Mary nodded at nothing at all, just a reflexive acceptance gesture. She paused for a second, as if uncertain of what to do before returning the note and the invitation to the envelope and placing it inside her handbag.
‘Aren’t you gonna open it?’ Betsy asked, her gaze bouncing from the package on the table back to Mary.
‘I’m not sure,’ Mary replied, staring at the wrapped painting and giving it an extra moment’s thought. She was pretty sure that she knew exactly what painting that was. ‘Probably not.’ Her right hand came up to her neck and she allowed the tips of her fingers to lightly brush against her neck dimple.
‘Really?’ Betsy looked truly surprised. ‘Why not?’
Mary bit her bottom lip, as her left shoulder came up ever so slightly. ‘Because I’m not sure I’m going to keep it. If I don’t, then I’d like to return the gift to him exactly how I got it.’
‘Oh.’ Betsy needed a second to think about what Mary had just said. ‘Why wouldn’t you keep it?’
‘Like you said before,’ Mary explained, ‘I didn’t get flowers, or even a box of chocolates. I got a painting… and an invite to a very exclusive party, by the looks of it.’
Betsy’s eyes widened before she frowned. She was clearly struggling to see the problem.
‘From someone who I met for the first time three days ago,’ Mary continued. ‘And who I chatted to for no more than… three minutes? Maybe?’ She read the look on Betsy’s face and decided to clarify. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call myself a feminist, but I’m not sure I’m OK with this. Trust me when I say that some men will simply take things for granted, Betsy.’ She reached for the painting. ‘And what I mean by that is – the bigger the gift, the more that they’ll expect in return… and some men, if they don’t get what they expect to get, they’ll simply take it, as if it were their right, just because they gave you a gift, or paid for dinner or something.’
Betsy’s eyebrows arched again, but this time it came with the pursing of her lips and a gentle head nod.
‘I know nothing about Thomas.’ Mary reached inside her handbag for the golden envelope and waved it at Betsy. ‘Except for the fact that he seems to be well connected…’ She thought about it for a beat. ‘Or very rich…’ She thought about it again. ‘Or both.’
Betsy nodded. ‘He’s also very hot.’
This time, Mary laughed. ‘Then there’s that.’ She picked up the wrapped painting and turned towards the door.
‘Even if you don’t keep the painting,’ Betsy pushed, ‘you gonna go to the Grand Opening, right? Seriously, you can’t miss that.’
Mary’s reply was a simple angling of the head.
‘If you decide not to go,’ Betsy called, as Mary got to the door, ‘can I have that invite… please?’
‘If I don’t go,’ Mary said, practically already out the door, ‘it’s all yours.’
Thirty-Four
Back in her apartment, Mary kept the living room lights dimmed, using a single corner lamp to give the spacious room just enough light so that she wouldn’t bump into any furniture. She kicked off her shoes and placed the wrapped painting on the low coffee table at the center of the room before pouring herself a large glass of red wine. When she left Jolt N Bolt, just over five minutes ago, she completely forgot to get both the coffee and the salad bowl that she had originally gone there to get, but it didn’t matter – her appetite was all but gone and right then, Mary needed wine much more that she needed coffee.
She walked back to the living room and paused by the coffee table and the painting.
There was no point in opening the package because Mary knew exactly what it was.
I think this was the one you really liked.
When talking to Thomas at the exhibition on Thursday evening, there had been only one painting she’d mentioned liking – Betsy’sReflectionpiece – the one that she really wanted to get. Sure, Mary had also mentioned liking a second piece from Betsy –Fragmented– but that one was hanging on the wall to her right. She had purchased it at the end of the exhibition.
But if that was Betsy’sReflection, how the hell did Thomas manage to get hold of it?
Mary had another sip of her wine, while she thought of a plausible answer. It took her only a few seconds to come up with two – either this Thomas fellow really was in with the in-crowd, or he was the one who had bought the painting in the first place. If option one was the winner, then Thomas must’ve had to pull a few strings to get his hands on that piece. What that indicated was that Betsy was right – Mary must’ve left a very good impression for Thomas to want to impress her like that. If option two was the correct one, then Betsy was more than right, because that meant that Thomas had purchased the “Reflection” piece before he’d even met Mary at the end of the exhibition, which in turn meant that he was giving up something that he’d actually wanted for himself just to please her.
I like option two,the voice inside Mary’s head butt in.That means that he really wants to get into your pants.
‘I know.’
I’d let him.