"No...I think the Derot piece should go over by the blue impressionists. It'd make more sense than having it over here with Ekholm's collection. You see what I mean, don't you?" Nico looked at Audrey questioningly as she sighed.
"Sure," she grumbled, her muscles straining as she picked up the heavy Derot piece for its fifth relocation today. The gallery was expecting some big shot multi-millionaire this afternoon, and she'd been helping her boss move around the displays all morning and day before.
"Wait!" He said, holding his hand on her arm. "Let me look at it for a few seconds right where you're holding it. I might be getting something..." Her legs shook as she held the painting as upright as possible. She felt like Atlas holding the world, except a slight difference in weight. Sweat began forming at her temples and her arms burned, reminding her of how out of shape she'd been lately.
"Maybe if you held it you'd get a better view," she muttered through gritted teeth. Nico shook his head and crossed his arms, analyzing the painting into a piece of dust. Sometimes, she just wanted to rip that damn mustache off of his upper lip and let him analyze a mirror...
"Ok. I think we'll keep it where we had it before," he asserted. Cursing him under her breath, she trudged back to the Ekholm collection, and placed it carefully on the nail it'd been on before, her arms nearly breaking from underneath. She took a deep breath and turned around, hoping to God he wouldn't change his mind again. After a few seconds of intense inspection, he nodded his head.
"That's fine," he said slowly, "but you smell quite homeless. Go home and take a shower and clean yourself up." He turned around swiftly and paced towards the back room. "Be back by 3:00." The door to his office shut. His rudeness had little to no effect on her nowadays...
She quickly grabbed her purse from behind the front desk and checked her phone. It was 1:15, and she lived half an hour away by foot. She hurried out the door and began jogging down the sidewalk, hoping a cab would be wandering down the side street. Eventually her jogging became speed walking, as the 91 degree weather was draining her energy.
It was 1:32 and she was still trudging down the sidewalk at a decently fast pace, completely focused on making it home in good time, when all of the sudden, she knocked into something standing in front of her.
"Fuck!" A voice said as she landed on the concrete. Her head slammed onto the hard ground. She felt the ache immediately, her eyes blurring and her ears ringing. Her hand subconsciously raised itself to a small spot on her forehead where it'd hit the ground. She touched it lightly, but winced instantly at the intense, sharp pain. The ringing seemed to subside after about ten seconds or so, and her vision adjusted to her surroundings. There was a figure laying next to her. Her eyes focused on the details and she noticed the eyes. Those eyes. Piercing, electric blue. It was the man from the coffee shop. The man who'd been staring at her. The man who got a bit lucky in the ladies' bathroom...
"Shit...," he muttered under his breath, pulling off his grey jacket. She noticed a coffee cup laying next to his sleeve, the excess liquid that hadn't spilled all over his shirt dripping on the ground. He stared at the stain angrily, his brows furrowed tightly.
"Oh god. I'm so sorry," she said, picking up the cup and setting it up right.
"It's fine," he grumbled, rubbing his white shirt in a hopeless attempt to get rid of the stain. "It's an old shirt anyways. Are you-" He left the last word out as his eyes finally reached hers. His mesmerizing eyes squinted as if he thinking hard about something. Maybe he recognized me from the coffee shop...
"Do I know you?" He asked. His eyes opened wider when he looked at her forehead. "Shit, you're bleeding!" Her hand went up to touch the point of throbbing and, sure enough, there was blood.
"Oh," she said, staring at the red stains on her fingers. She noticed other people looking at them as they walked by, not giving a second thought as to what these two people were doing just laying on the dirty ground. Suddenly, the man had moved a bit closer and held his jacket in his hand. He lifted it to her forehead and pressed it against the bump.
"Ow," she squealed, wincing at the pain of the pressure. She grabbed his arm but he held it steady.
"I know," he began, eyes intent on hers, "but you've got to keep it from bleeding." She glanced at the ground awkwardly, staring at her purse. Her phone had fallen a few inches away from it, the screen lighting up from a text. The time showed 1:35. She'd completely forgotten she was in a rush!
"Thanks, but I've gotta go," she muttered quickly, pulling the jacket off her forehead. She propelled herself up with immense difficulty and grabbed her purse from the ground. "I'm so sorry about the coffee!" She looked into his lost eyes once more before trotting away, feeling like a complete bitch for leaving him there on the floor with a coffee stained shirt and a bloody jacket.
"Wait!" he called, "What's your name?" She glanced back behind her shoulder as she walked and waved politely, knowing it'd be about fifteen minutes before she'd even get home.
Finally, she made it to the apartment building. She was a bit winded from the speed walking down the street, but had arrived on good time. Her fingers fumbled with the keys at the door for a few seconds as she tried to catch her breath. She collected herself the best she could, trying to disregard the painful throbbing in her head.
Finally, the lock clicked and she stumbled inside, almost stepping on her cat, who leaped skittishly from where he'd been lounging.
"Albus!" she gasped, immediately running to the cowering cats side. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said in that high-pitched voice crazy people talk to their animals with. She stroked his little pink nose until the cat was purring deeply. He rubbed his head compassionately against her knee, instantly forgiving her as cats always do.
After a few minutes of distraction, she realized she was still on a time limit. She left Albus to lie about in the sun and went to turn the shower on. As she waited for the water to heat up, she couldn't help but notice the dried blood on her face. It'd run down her cheek and she hadn't even noticed. She touched the point where the throbbing was coming from, noticing a bit of a bruise forming around it. Not wanting to get an infection, she washed it out painfully with water and downed a couple pills of Advil to lessen the ache.
She hopped in the shower and quickly got rid of her sweaty stench with lavender body soap her aunt had given her for Christmas. Having taken a shower that morning, she didn't feel the need to condition her hair, so she left it as it was. She had about 15 minutes before she'd have to head out again, since she'd have to suffer another half hour walk to get back. She quickly blow dried her dark, wavy hair to slight dampness and covered the cut with concealer, immediately realizing that wasn't the best idea since it hadn't scabbed over yet. But being strict to the time limit, she disregarded that and flicked on some mascara before getting changed. Obviously, this customer called for something a little less casual than her normal jeans and tee combo, so she settled for a nice blouse and dress skirt. Slipping some black flats on , she headed out and locked the door, decently proud of her quickness. Sticking her keys in her purse, Audrey
stepped out of the building.
