A Story Of One Painting

Why Does The Dog Wag Its Tail?

You wake up from a gentle sniff in your ear. Michael lies on his stomach next to you, his mouth almost touching your cheek. He is still fast asleep with his arms wrapped around the pillow and his leg hooked firmly around one of yours. He is so close, you can feel his body heat on your skin. You take a moment to soak in the fact that you are still with him, in his bed where you spent last night making love, talking and finally falling asleep still so well aware of each other's presence. "I want to be here when you wake up tomorrow..." he said last night. And he actually is here, covered cozily with a warm duvet, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathes deeply in his sleep. His face serene, framed with a stack of black tousled hair, which contrasts greatly with the perfect whiteness of the pillow. A strong desire of running your fingers along his face overwhelms you. Carefully you lift your hand from under the duvet and glide the tips of your fingers over his cheek, down to his jaw. With no make-up left on his face, you can clearly see numerous tiny acne scars covering it, making the skin feel porous. Slowly you move your forefinger farther and run it down the cleft on his chin. It feels firm and prickly from the tiny bristles already making their way through the skin. Your touch doesn't seem to disturb him, and he remains asleep in the dimmed light of early morning.

Morning!!

Almost panicking, you turn to the nightstand and try to reach the alarm clock on it. Finally, you manage to turn it around. It's 8:15 a.m.!

Crap! Bert, Kirk, the contract! Oh, no!

You bite your lips and carefully peel Michael's leg off yours. He stirs but remains asleep. Thank God! If he wakes up, no contract signing on Erath will be able to drag you out of this very bed. You scramble out of it and start hastily moving around the bedroom in search of your clothes. Finding your jeans on the floor next to Michael's, you quickly drag them on. Grabbing your bra, you suddenly realize that you are still wearing Michael's 'Pluto' T-shirt. Oh, boy! Desperately you gaze around: your turtleneck has vanished. It must be lost somewhere in the bed linen... Double crap!  You are running out of time! The meeting is scheduled for 9 a.m. and you still have to take a shower and make yourself look like a decent human being. Finally deciding that Pluto will be the faithful companion of your early morning escape, you grab your hair band from the nightstand and put it around your wrist. After hesitating for a short while, you pick up a pen from the same nightstand (bless the hotel management for their prudence!) and scribble your mobile phone number on a small notepad. Hesitantly you add one more line to the message, 'This is my mobile phone number. Just in case. ;) M.'

Throwing one last look at peacefully sleeping Michael, you tiptoe to the living room and out into the corridor, your shoes grasped firmly in your hand. You let a short sigh of relief finding the corridor empty, no square-looking bodyguards in sight. As the doors of the elevator finally shut, you take a breath and let your mind dwell on last night. You spent it with Michael again and now feel rested. And there was no sex (well, in the second part of it) only cuddling. He told you he was not used to sleeping with anyone in the same bed 'on regular basis' but judging from his deep sleep this morning, he is rapidly getting used to it. You grin at the thought and step out of the elevator, feeling more positive and optimistic than you have for the last couple of weeks. As you proceed with your daily routine, your mind keeps taking you back to the 18th floor and the Presidential Suite of Mr. Blacksmith.

*****
"That control-craving son of a bitch is completely smitten, girl, I can declare with whole responsibility!" Bert exclaims flashing one his widest smiles at you.

Kirk and Jeff have just left, taking away the icy ambiance and the signed contract locked safely in Kirk's briefcase.

"You made them amend almost every single point of that goddamned document, Mary! And what is even more shocking, they didn't hesitate to do so!" Bert shakes his head, his expression wicked.