“At least we know he’s being honest about how badly he’s damaged his family’s reputation,” said Joel with a scoff. “Not a single one of these stories is flattering, except where they mention his looks, of course.”
“He seems to be a real jackass,” I said, crossing my arms. “Just like he was the other night.”
“True,” said Joel. “But he did come back and apologize.”
“Only because he wanted something.”
“So?” said Joel. “He didn’t try and pretend it was something else, and he didn’t try and bully you into it. And he’s trying to make it worth your while. At the very least, I think you can trust him to be upfront with you about what he wants. That’s not a bad quality in a bad man. Hell, it’s rare.”
“I guess you would know.”
Joel gave me a playful look. “Better than you, Virgin Mary.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. The dig wasn’t literal, but Joel always did love teasing me about how much more time I spent with my art than trying to have a love life. One of those lives was fulfilling, and it certainly wasn’t my love life, nor had it been for a very long time.
Just as Joel was laughing at me, suddenly the apartm
ent dropped into darkness, and we were left with nothing but the glowing screen of the laptop to light the place.
“Ugh, shit,” I said with a heavy, broken sigh. “The electricity bill—Rafiq’s payment for Oceanic won’t have reached my account yet.”
In the blue glow, Joel’s face fell. “Come stay with me tonight?”
I looked at him and could feel the unspoken words between us as we sat in the dark. Part of me felt like I was sitting in a pile of my own failure, staring at a ladder being offered, and refusing it out of pride. What was I thinking? I needed the money. I could still set the rules with Rafiq, since I was the one doing him the favor in the end. I didn’t have to do anything with him I didn’t want to. What was a couple weeks of playing pretend in exchange for financial security? Was that really so different from someone pretending they enjoyed sitting in a cubicle for forty hours a week?
“Alright,” I said, defeated. I held out my hand. “Hand me my phone, please.”
Joel dropped my smartphone in my limp hand. I had already saved Rafiq’s number in my phone, secretly terrified I would lose his business card and with it, my opportunity. Joel watched, biting his nails, as I scrolled through the contacts and called him.
The phone rang for long enough that I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then, the sound of blaring house music and thumping bass erupted in my ear.
Rafiq’s deep voice came loud slurred. “Yes, what?” he said impatiently.
“Rafiq?” I said, unsure if it was actually him. “This is Evangeline, from the gallery.”
“Evangeline,” he said. “Hold on, one moment.” There was some muffled rustling, and when he returned, the music in the background was softer. “Apologies about that. What can I do for you?”
“I, uh….” My eyes met Joel’s, and he gave me a supportive smile. “I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided I’ll do it. I’ll accept your proposition.”
The other end fell silent. Had it not been for the far-away club music, I would have thought he had hung up on me.
Finally he said, “Excellent. I’m truly relieved to hear that. Ring up the paintings and charge them to the card I left with you. I’ll have a team drop by tomorrow to wrap and transport them. You can return my card to me in person.”
“Okay…” In the dark, I patted around on the table for paper and pen. “Where?”
“We’ll speak about that tomorrow. Until then, Evangeline.”