daniel seavey caught his assistant's brunette hair, vaguely flowing over her shoulders in soft waves, and sat down in his office chair. christina's dark eyes were a mixture of emotion and shock, framed by her long dark lashes. her slender body had caught the attention of more than one artist they had exhibited, and she was now wearing an enveloping emerald green dress that made daniel look disheveled.
because christina was one of the closest things daniel had to a friend, he never minded her interruptions during the workday, often and pointless as they were sometimes. a smile tugged at his mouth. "yes?"
"you'll never believe who's downstairs." christina's words came out in a rush, as if keeping them inside would cause a rupture.
the blonde boy's gaze darted over christina's shoulder to the gallery below. he'd designed his own office with a glass wall facing the show floor, partly to be able to see the comings and goings, and mostly to not feel trapped. standing just outside christina's small office was a man in a gray suit. daniel didn't recognize him, but he'd dealt with a lot of people through the years. still, he was good with faces, and his he didn't know. he was lean, with curly hair and hands deep in the pockets of his pants.
"who is he?" daniel didn't have any appointments today. they'd just finished a week-long showing for a washington artist who liked working with black and white. they were two weeks from another show.
"he says he's casey barlow's agent." christina squealed and slapped a hand over her mouth.
daniel sucked in a shallow breath, hiding his own excitement. casey barlow, originally rumored to be from the san diego area, was a photographer unlike anyone they'd ever worked with. he captured women or men, in various stages of undress, in nature settings. he wasn't particular with his models either. some were full figured, others thin as a rail. he made them all beautiful. desired.
daniel owned one of barlow's photographs from very early in his career, of a blonde girl in a white sheet, laying over a boulder near a waterfall in argentina.
"what does he want?"
because, in honesty, casey barlow was out of daniel's league. though they did work with established artists, none were of his caliber. he'd had shows in new york, milan and paris. most of daniel's bookings were new, upcoming artists and very small market.
"he wants to see you." christina bounced on her toes.
daniel closed the program he was working on and put his pc into sleep mode. "all right. send him in."
as christina walk away, daniel blew out a calming breath and steeled his face to pleasantly neutral. smoothing his hands down his pants, daniel rose when the stranger reached the doorway.
"i'm daniel seavey, and you are?"
he accepted daniel's handshake with a firm, brief grasp and sat in one of the brown leather chairs across from his desk. "jack avery. agent for casey barlow."
the blue eyed boy nodded, as if this were an everyday occurrence. "what can i do for you today, mr. avery?"
his eyes were light, hazel and his smile was assuredly amused. "my client would like to discuss having an exhibit at your gallery."
