The Last Sketch

Chapter 1

First of all I want to thank @trista- for designing the beautiful cover for The Last Sketch.  Thank you for bringing the image in my head to a reality!

"I don't understand why we're spending our free Saturday afternoon going to an art gallery instead of playing golf?" I asked Nate.

Nate looked at me with frustration, "For the fiftieth time, Aditya, we are going to an art auction to buy art."

"But, I don't want to buy art," I said stubbornly.

"Well, I need to buy something for my wife that seems like I put some effort in it."

"And once again, why am I coming along instead of your wife?" I asked as we drove along the back roads outside of the city on a perfect spring afternoon meant for golfing.

"Because I'm surprising her for our anniversary and I need to get out of the dog house for the excessively long hours I've been working during our first year of marriage."

"You should have taken someone else, I don't know shit about art."

"You need some art for your place too. Have you seen how barren your place is?"

"What difference does it make, it's not like we spend a lot of time at home. Plus, I like my bare walls."

"Aditya, just pretend to be a good friend and keep me company and provide me with a second opinion and don't let me buy anything too expensive. Got it?"

"I am a good friend, who else would give up a perfectly good game of golf to go to an art auction," I said as I flipped the radio station to a rock station. The jazz station Nate had playing was giving me a headache.

Nate looked disapprovingly at me but didn't change the station back.

I hummed to Hotel California and we rode the rest of the way in silence.

Nate pulled his Audi A4 into a makeshift parking spot on the dirt path not far from an old farm house that had been converted into a gallery. I rolled my eyes at him. Just another bourgee place for people with too much money.

"So, listen there are several different artists here showcasing their work. They range from painting fruit to nudes, to abstract paintings that have some symbolic meaning. We'll go through all of the rooms and check out all of the artists and then we'll go back to the ones that I like. Your job is to not comment on anything unless I ask. Got it?"

"And for a moment I thought we were going to have a code like if I pulled out a white handkerchief you know let's go and if I call you honey it means I like the artwork so that you could negotiate pricing."

"Oh, I didn't think of that, but that's a good idea. I knew I brought you along for a reason. But, please don't call me honey!" Nate said as he opened the door to the barn.

"It was a joke," I said.

"It's a good idea how about if you sneeze or cough if you like the painting?"

"Because that's not obvious; let's just get this over with quickly and we can perhaps salvage the afternoon."

"Don't rush me," Nate said sternly.

We entered the barn and there was a woman wearing an all-black dress with stiletto heels who greeted us, "Good afternoon, gentlemen. Have you attended one of our events before?"

"Once with my wife," Nate answered as I stood quietly next to him.

"Great so you know how this works. Here is a map of the artists that are being showcased today. Are there any particular artists you're looking for?"