The Buck Pass

The Buck Pass Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Art and Amour

 

Gallery 137 was a tiny hole-in-the-wall of a place, which, at first glance, didn’t seem to have much going for it other than its trendy name. Trini couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. Being an Uptown girl, she was used to seeing galleries that were spacious, well-lit, and filled with a few select pieces of tasteful artwork. Gallery 137 could not have been more different from this stereotypical image of an art gallery if it tried. Cramped, dark, and stuffed with an eclectic array of works that ranged from the innocuous to the downright disturbing, the gallery came as an unwelcome surprise to Trini – as did its owner.

“Paul, my Angel, can that really be you?” A tall, fashionably thin woman, with a shock of bright red hair, strutted over to them. The few curves that she had were well-emphasized by a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a black mesh top that was far too transparent to warrant the title of “shirt.” On her feet, she wore a pair of slouchy, purple suede stiletto boots, which clicked and clacked across the bare floor as she moved. “It’s been too, too long,” she drawled, ignoring Trini completely as she pushed past her to give Paul a loud kiss on the cheek. Before pulling away, she made sure to leave her mark on him: a bold red lipstick print. The woman smiled smugly; Trini narrowed her eyes.

“You’ve got lipstick on your face,” she told Paul through gritted teeth. 

“Oh,” he said, rubbing at the red mark with the back of his hand. “Thanks. Trini, this is Vivianne Leighton, the gallery owner. Viv, this is Trini Martoni,” he turned to Trini, beaming, before adding: “an amazing artist.”

“Nice to meet you,” Trini said politely, holding out her hand in greeting.

Looking her up and down, in what was obviously an inspection, Viv offered Trini a pitying smile. “Well, aren’t you quaint?” she said with a derisive laugh. “Where’d Paul pick you up, the Port Authority bus terminal? What are you, some undiscovered artistic genius, fresh off the farm from Bumblefuck, USA?”

Paul rolled his eyes at her. “I know it’s hard, Viv, but for once in your life, try not to be a bitch. Trini’s from New York City.”

“Third generation, born and raised,” Trini added defensively.

“Don’t mind her, Trini,” Paul said, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “Viv always feels the need to try and out-New York everyone she meets. It’s probably because she grew up in a small, suburban town in Connecticut.”

Viv made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh. “Enough small talk,” she said gruffly. “Let’s see what you’ve got to show me.” Turning sharply on her purple suede stiletto heels, she led them towards her office at the back of the gallery.

“Trini’s got a few of the actual pieces in her bag,” Paul said once they had arranged themselves around the large steel table that Viv used as a desk. “And I’ve got a whole album filled with shots of her older work.” He handed the photo album to Viv, then motioned to Trini. “Go ahead, show her.”

Viv opened the photo album and began pouring over it busily, scrutinizing the pictures with the same level of detail that Trini’s biochemistry lab partner at Harvard used when looking at protein samples through his microscope. The comparison made her chuckle as she placed the sculptures onto the desk.

Viv looked up sharply. “Is this some kind of joke to you? Are you serious about having your work professionally represented or not?”