Home > Chasing Beautiful (Chasing #1)(35)

Chasing Beautiful (Chasing #1)(35)
Author: Pamela Ann

Walking on cloud nine as I entered the restaurant where I’m meeting Kyle for lunch. It was a block away from school so I saying no when he invited for lunch was not an option.He was already seated and he stood up as I approached him.

Dark circles gone, his face bright and handsome as ever. He’s wearing his usual get-up, jeans, shirt and his rugged Timberland boots.

He looked well. I’m glad that his transition in the office worked out fine.

“How are you, baby?” he kissed my cheek before I sat down. Kyle always called me baby, even before we started dating. There’s some odd sense of security knowing that he’s here with me. I suppose it’s because he was a big part of me growing up.

“I’m good! What about you? How’s work?” I asked before taking a sip of water.

“What’s this?” pointing at the folded flyer in my hand. He took it, long manly fingers pried it opened.

“You’re looking for a job? Why didn’t you say so?” He peered at me as he popped an olive.

I was staring at his mouth. Looking away a little embarrassed.

Damn, he’s still cute and sexy to boot. Are these normal reactions to your still-hot looking ex? I suppose so. I mean, it was merely a month ago since that mouth went downtown with my body.

“I don’t know what I want yet. Have to see what’s available. But I want to work somewhere challenging, you know, a job that I can learn from and apply later on in life.”

“Well, why didn’t you say? I’m interviewing for an assistant,” smiling widely at me.

“You’re joking, right? Why would you need an assistant, Kyle?” He usually does is own thing.

“Hey! Don’t underestimate my abilities—but you know I’ve been working for the company ever since I was sixteen. I’ve earned my position. All I’m saying is that I have a spot available—if you’re not interested—too bad,” slightly shrugging as he devoured another olive.

“Sorry—I wasn’t underestimating your abilities—I was just surprised. Climbing up the ladder hmm? I’m happy for you. But as you can see, my class schedule is a little crazy. I don’t see how that can work.”

The waiter took our order and placed a bottle of red wine, breadsticks and olives on the table. Kyle poured wine in our wine glasses. I munched on the olives and breadsticks.

I’m famished.

“The schedule’s going to be flexible. You will be working more at night when I scout during gigs or talk to bands during shifts. You only have to go to the office once or twice a week to do some paperwork—other than that— you can send emails through your phone when I need you to get some things done.”

“Hmmm, are you sure you want me as you assistant, Kyle?” arching my brow at him, questioning his sanity, “what if we fight all the time? What then?”

“Baby—you forget that it’s me you’re dealing with. For years, I’ve dealt with your PMS and you’re mood swings,” I choked on my olive, but he kept going, “took care of you when you’re sick, taught you how to drive, held your hair as you puked your guts out on the toilet—need I say more?”

“Fine—I got it—when do you want me to start?” smirking up a smile. Wonder how it’s like working with Kyle. He’s passionate about his job and I admire that.

“How does Friday night sound? I need to check out a band that’s playing in Camden.”

“Fridays sounds bueno! Try not to be such a slave driver, okay?”

I can’t wait to start work. I’ve always wondered how it’ll be working behind the scenes, the process, the thrill of signing a great band and I’m dying to know.

“I’ll definitely try not to work you to the ground baby” he murmured softly. I wonder if Blake would be bothered that he calls me ‘baby’?

Our food arrived and our conversation steered to his job and what he’s been up to. Stories flowed and we chatted about the people we knew back home.

He’s easy going personality made it easy for me to comfortable with him again. If we continue with this kind of progression, our friendship will bounce back in no time. I’m confident that it will.

We parted after our lunch date and I had to scurry to The National Gallery Museum to meet my class. Today, we’re learning about Botticelli and his work. I’m energized and psyched that I get to study it close-up. Last week, I was awestruck with the works of Jan van Ecyk. Especially with the ‘Arnolfini Marriage’ illusionism painting, it was simply unique and his perfect execution of geometrical points and perception was outstanding. Not to mention his application on the reversed reflection on the mirror with immaculate detail rendered me in amazement. His one-of-a-kind depiction of lighting made it extraordinary.

I was intrigued and enraptured.

Our class is small with twenty students who are all eager to learn about art and its history. When I got there, the class gathered at the far end of Trafalgar Square as our teacher, Mrs. Samantha Collins, checked her roster. She’s a charming British lady who talks animatedly with passionate alacrity for anything and everything art. Some people have the zeal for it and others who are simply apathetic about the subject. I, for one, liked to be absorbed in the artist’s craftiness and mastery.

Their execution of their imagination in fine intricate detail—was simply gravitating. It’s like being transported and seeing it from their eyes. Their hopes, dreams, emotions, their soul—and their very being—are captured from their compelling graphic artistry. My ingénue mind keen to learn and grasp their unrivaled ingenuity.

While studying the ‘Venus and Mars’ renaissance painting, I received a message from Blake. What have you been up to poppet? Stuck here about to head for a meeting. I’m knackered.

I can’t help turning mushy every single time I get a message from him. I smirked when he used ‘knackered’ a British slang for tired. Still learning their British colloquialism, but it’s funny how I tend to use some of them now. Chad too, but he’s been here for almost five years. He came here to study after high school and decided to stay after he graduated. He told me that once you fall for London, it’s hard to let go.

I rushed a reply. I’m at the National Gallery studying. Btw, I found a job! Drink up some of your beloved espressos. I’m sure that’ll help put you back in top form.

My phone beeped again. You were looking for a job? Why didn’t you mention, poppet? If you only ever need money, just say so. Give me your banking details. I’ll have it wired to you immediately.

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