Pandora's Box

Chapter 13

Spring, 2016
The Leigh Gallery, North Halstead Street
Chicago

It was almost the end of the second month of her being in Chicago, and the crowd had begun to dwindle for her gallery. In a way, it was a good thing, for it gave the twenty-eight year old more time to work on a new collection that she hoped Jean Leigh would enjoy enough to extend her for another three months. The owner of the gallery had also requested Pandora to have another class, so now she was at the gallery full-time, with two hour classes in the afternoon and another at night.

Desmond had also been attending her noon classes. He had stated that he fell asleep easily at night. Olivia had been harassing her regarding the man, but Pandora honestly didn't have much to tell her friend.

"What do you mean you don't have much, Dora? He's the first guy I've heard about in almost five years, you've got to have something for a girl, right?" her brunette best friend had complained over Starbucks when she had met her the other day.

Pandora had shrugged, picking at her blueberry muffin. "There really isn't much, Livvy. He's.... nice, but that's about it."

"So what, none of the rush and the i-want-to-kiss-hims?" she asked again, seemingly incredulous. Pandora raised a brow, but shook her head. "God, Dora, this is so different from the other guy back then."

She perked her head, and then curiously asked. "What other guy?"

"You don't remember? There was this one guy back then, just before you left Chicago. You were working for something you never told me about, but you met this guy there. I've never gotten to meet him though. You said something about him liking his privacy. Is he some actor?" her best friend bounced back with an excited grin.

Pandora laughed, but questions began popping in her head. Her parents had repeatedly told her that she had been working at a start-up design company before her accident. Why would she have avoided telling Olivia that? And who was this guy she spoke of? Olivia being Olivia, had trailed off to some other topic, but three days later as Pandora sat in front of her easel, the question ate at her mind. So much so she could barely seem to finish the piece she had been working on, completely missing the sound of the door opening until someone clearing his or her throat made her turn around in a shock, only to let out a breathe of relief when she saw the unkempt hair of Desmond Smith.

"You seem to be in a ditch. Where's that smile you graced me with over our dinner?" he teased, making Pandora laugh as she replaced her brush on it's hold and stood up to wander towards him. Dressed in navy blue shorts and a tank top, Desmond cut a swathing figure. He was charming and attentive, funny and polite... but like what she had to tell Olivia, there really wasn't much Pandora had to tell about Desmond.

"Nothing." she replied, leaning on the table. Her eyes flickered to the small drawstring bag he carried. "You're really early. Excited for class?" she teased in returned.

He chuckled, depositing the bag on the table. "What, I can't be excited to see the teacher instead?"

If there was one thing Pandora would give him, it was that he had no qualms about showing his obvious interest in her. After four years of seclusion and her mother's extreme suspicion over any guy who came to call at their home in Kansas, it was a breathe of fresh air to greet Desmond's interest in her, but after a week of casual chatting after they had exchanged numbers over dinner, Pandora found the first excitement waning. Was it supposed to wane so quickly?

Instead, she quickly flashed him a cheeky smile. "Don't try and get into my good books. I'm a fair teacher. And class is starting in 10 minutes, so get your stuff ready." she said in her sternest voice, meandering back to her easel.