Mr. Corporate Law

1.5: L&W Lawyer - Hamish Schwartz

"Hey babe," Dominic tugged at my hand as we stopped in front of a large window with art canvases hanging from the white walls. He beckoned to it as soon as I turned around. "Can we go in?" He added.

"Uh, sure." I followed him as we walked into the small art gallery with barely anybody inside.

"Welcome!" A young woman greeted us with a smile, her blond hair reminded me of Erika's, the way it was let out down passed her shoulders and looked untouched by a comb or brush. She first gave me the typical head to toe examination any woman did to another who happened to have been with a particularly attractive male, and her gaze shifted towards that said attractive male and her lips curved as though she approved on what she saw. It was a common occurrence between Dominic and I.

I kept close to the man as we approached a certain painting that had a silhouette of a woman with her hair twirled to one side of her hair, though loose strands covered the other half of her face as she gave a bright, genuine and warm smile. Her fingers lightly placed on her cheeks, and she appeared to blush. The piece was painted with splatters of different colors. The more I stared, the more a sense of familiarity grew in the back of my mind. For some reason, I denied the idea that it may have been me, but my gut told me that there was a very strong possibilty.

Meanwhile, Dominic stared at it in awe, his fingers grazed alone his tan skin, his brows slightly furrowed as he thought the same as I did, and he couldn't put a finger on it too. He licked at his lips and mumbled, "It does look like you."

"What?"

Was I hearing things?

"Don't you have a lawyer friend back in your office that painted in his spare time? Because this looks like you," He said in his monotone voice as he pointed at it with his other hand. He looked as though he tried to recall who he referred to, but I had no clue what he was on about. He scratched his finger against the side of his face, grazing against the stubble that began to show after just a week. His brows slightly furrowed as he looked over the woman from earlier and asked, "Who painted this?"

She didn't hesitate to come close, practically invading the personal bubble. She crossed her arms over her chest, her breast perked up from the push she gave it, obviously trying to show she had something bigger than what I had. But Dominic didn't respond to her advances, instead, he gripped my hand tighter and pulled me closer to him as he asked, "What's the name of the painter?"

"I don't know, sir, he always preferred to be known as an anonymous contributor to the gallery." She answered, her voice went a pitch higher all of a sudden. "Does it interest you?"

"I'll take it." Dominic turned to me. "Is that okay with you?"

"It's up to you, Dom, but I don't know where we'll put that." I stared at the canvas, giving it a good look to imagine where in the world we would put that in our apartment.

"In the living room."

"That means you have to take down the bulletin board for your work stuff."

He shrugged, giving a pout of the lips and tilted his head left and right. "I'll move it to the study."

I got curious, and when I felt that way, my mouth couldn't keep shut. So I asked him, with a lower volume to my voice. "Why are you so interested in it? It may not be me, you know."

"That's you," He said with confidence, his face seemed displeased at the thought I was painted on a canvas in the first place. He gave me an assured nod. "Trust me on this. Maybe even consider it an early birthday gift?"

"My birthday isn't until August."

"Hence why it's early."

"I guess. Why do you want it?"