Sebring
Page 60
“Tonight,” Nick said. “Five thirty.”
There was a brief pause before, “Of course, Mr. Sebring. Tonight. Five thirty.”
“Right, do you need my address?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Nick gave it to him. Then Nick exchanged only the briefest of pleasantries before he hung up on him.
After that, he ignored the tight in his chest and went to his meeting.
* * * * *
5:57 – That Evening
“I see Ms. Shade has an eye,” Ralphie stated.
Ralphie was a good-looking but definitely gay guy who was standing beside Nick, studying the large painting that had been installed over his chest between the two arches.
Yes, she had an eye.
Jesus.
The princess could pick paintings.
“Oh!” Ralphie cried then reached inside the jacket of the expensive suit he wore. “She left this for us to give to you,” he stated, pulling out an envelope and offering it to Nick. “There you go. Now, if you’re happy with it, we’ll leave you to your evening. But if you need anything, an adjustment or you simply want us to hang it elsewhere, don’t hesitate to call. However, just saying, that painting was made to hang right there. But if you want it elsewhere, we live to serve.”
“It’s good. Thanks,” Nick muttered, taking the envelope at the same time reaching to get his wallet to tip.
Ralphie was engaged in gesturing that they could leave to the two men he brought with him who did the carrying and installation while Ralphie ordered them around. But when he turned his attention back to Nick, he shook his head, and to make his point absolutely clear, he lifted both hands and wagged them side to side as well.
“We don’t accept gratuities. But the thought is appreciated.”
No gratuity.
These days with tip jars out at gas stations where the attendant didn’t move from behind the cash register, this was a surprise. But a good one.
He made a mental note of that on the very off chance he needed more art.
Nick nodded and walked him to the door.
The man barely cleared it before he rolled it shut and bolted it.
He then looked down to the envelope.
Nick Sebring, was written on the front.
She had slanted, flowing, unusual, almost artistic handwriting.
He turned his eyes to the painting.
It was enormous, filling the space.
It was also amazing. The canvas painted entirely in a deep blue hue that reminded him of the ocean, this only interrupted close to the bottom with a series of sweeping, undulating lines in peaches and reds with some browns and blacks.
They looked like lines and Nick could imagine many missed it.
But he saw it immediately.
With some of the curves, swells and circles, definitely the coloring, the lines were an abstract of a man and woman fucking.
And an unusual choice for Olivia, the woman was on her back.
He wanted to smile at that.
He didn’t smile.
He looked to the envelope, tore it open and pulled out a card in thick, creamy stock, the front embossed in a traditional monogram of OSA.
He briefly thought about the fact that, with his research, he knew Olivia’s middle name was Amalie. And seeing that monogram, he thought her name was the most beautiful name he ever knew.
Then he opened the note and read,
Nick –
With your words the last time we were together, you gave me what you needed to give me.
With this painting, I’m returning the same thing.
It’s a poor demonstration of what it needs to say, but at least it’s something.
I hope one day you find the woman you couldn’t build in a dream. You deserve that.
But I want to thank you for what you gave to me. Including being the one who had the strength to stop what could amount to nothing.
Though, I will admit, when we were together it didn’t feel even a little like nothing.
When you find her, make sure she makes you happy. If she’s not beyond a dream, find the one who is. Don’t settle for anything less. If you did, the last hope I have in this world would be dashed, proving my pessimism for eternity.
Be well, Nick. And be happy.
Yours,
– Livvie
She had never, not once, called him Nick.
He had never, not once, called her Livvie.
But he had been her Nick.
And he had not made it safe for her to give him Livvie.
He stared at the note, reading it again.
And then again.
Including being the one who had the strength to stop what could amount to nothing.
Saliva filled his mouth.
Though, I will admit, when we were together it didn’t feel even a little like nothing.
He looked to the painting.
The last hope I have in this world would be dashed…
He pulled out his phone. He did it not thinking.
He kept not thinking when he pulled her name up on his texts.
He used his thumb to type out the words.
He hit send.
He ignored the return texts she sent.
Instead, he set about waiting.
Chapter Sixteen
Reduced to That
Olivia
I was nearly frantic, but definitely panicked as I drove to Nick’s.
So much so, I almost forgot to take the tracking device off my car before I set out.
I remembered. And I looked to see if anyone was watching.
Only then did I take off.
But I did it fast.
His text scared me.
Come over. Now.
He’d never been demanding. Not like that. Not in a text. Not even over the phone. In fact, although he could be somewhat bossy, he was normally laidback, and except for the argument we’d had at the club, he was always in a good mood.
Come over. Now. did not say good mood.
It was also not somewhat bossy.
There was a brief pause before, “Of course, Mr. Sebring. Tonight. Five thirty.”
“Right, do you need my address?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Nick gave it to him. Then Nick exchanged only the briefest of pleasantries before he hung up on him.
After that, he ignored the tight in his chest and went to his meeting.
* * * * *
5:57 – That Evening
“I see Ms. Shade has an eye,” Ralphie stated.
Ralphie was a good-looking but definitely gay guy who was standing beside Nick, studying the large painting that had been installed over his chest between the two arches.
Yes, she had an eye.
Jesus.
The princess could pick paintings.
“Oh!” Ralphie cried then reached inside the jacket of the expensive suit he wore. “She left this for us to give to you,” he stated, pulling out an envelope and offering it to Nick. “There you go. Now, if you’re happy with it, we’ll leave you to your evening. But if you need anything, an adjustment or you simply want us to hang it elsewhere, don’t hesitate to call. However, just saying, that painting was made to hang right there. But if you want it elsewhere, we live to serve.”
“It’s good. Thanks,” Nick muttered, taking the envelope at the same time reaching to get his wallet to tip.
Ralphie was engaged in gesturing that they could leave to the two men he brought with him who did the carrying and installation while Ralphie ordered them around. But when he turned his attention back to Nick, he shook his head, and to make his point absolutely clear, he lifted both hands and wagged them side to side as well.
“We don’t accept gratuities. But the thought is appreciated.”
No gratuity.
These days with tip jars out at gas stations where the attendant didn’t move from behind the cash register, this was a surprise. But a good one.
He made a mental note of that on the very off chance he needed more art.
Nick nodded and walked him to the door.
The man barely cleared it before he rolled it shut and bolted it.
He then looked down to the envelope.
Nick Sebring, was written on the front.
She had slanted, flowing, unusual, almost artistic handwriting.
He turned his eyes to the painting.
It was enormous, filling the space.
It was also amazing. The canvas painted entirely in a deep blue hue that reminded him of the ocean, this only interrupted close to the bottom with a series of sweeping, undulating lines in peaches and reds with some browns and blacks.
They looked like lines and Nick could imagine many missed it.
But he saw it immediately.
With some of the curves, swells and circles, definitely the coloring, the lines were an abstract of a man and woman fucking.
And an unusual choice for Olivia, the woman was on her back.
He wanted to smile at that.
He didn’t smile.
He looked to the envelope, tore it open and pulled out a card in thick, creamy stock, the front embossed in a traditional monogram of OSA.
He briefly thought about the fact that, with his research, he knew Olivia’s middle name was Amalie. And seeing that monogram, he thought her name was the most beautiful name he ever knew.
Then he opened the note and read,
Nick –
With your words the last time we were together, you gave me what you needed to give me.
With this painting, I’m returning the same thing.
It’s a poor demonstration of what it needs to say, but at least it’s something.
I hope one day you find the woman you couldn’t build in a dream. You deserve that.
But I want to thank you for what you gave to me. Including being the one who had the strength to stop what could amount to nothing.
Though, I will admit, when we were together it didn’t feel even a little like nothing.
When you find her, make sure she makes you happy. If she’s not beyond a dream, find the one who is. Don’t settle for anything less. If you did, the last hope I have in this world would be dashed, proving my pessimism for eternity.
Be well, Nick. And be happy.
Yours,
– Livvie
She had never, not once, called him Nick.
He had never, not once, called her Livvie.
But he had been her Nick.
And he had not made it safe for her to give him Livvie.
He stared at the note, reading it again.
And then again.
Including being the one who had the strength to stop what could amount to nothing.
Saliva filled his mouth.
Though, I will admit, when we were together it didn’t feel even a little like nothing.
He looked to the painting.
The last hope I have in this world would be dashed…
He pulled out his phone. He did it not thinking.
He kept not thinking when he pulled her name up on his texts.
He used his thumb to type out the words.
He hit send.
He ignored the return texts she sent.
Instead, he set about waiting.
Chapter Sixteen
Reduced to That
Olivia
I was nearly frantic, but definitely panicked as I drove to Nick’s.
So much so, I almost forgot to take the tracking device off my car before I set out.
I remembered. And I looked to see if anyone was watching.
Only then did I take off.
But I did it fast.
His text scared me.
Come over. Now.
He’d never been demanding. Not like that. Not in a text. Not even over the phone. In fact, although he could be somewhat bossy, he was normally laidback, and except for the argument we’d had at the club, he was always in a good mood.
Come over. Now. did not say good mood.
It was also not somewhat bossy.
