“Yes. We are a night-only gallery, but Philippe makes exceptions for those he sees fit.”
“I did him a favor.” Desi’s eyes grew dark. The lady was giving off a stuck-up air, and I understood his annoyance.
“Yes. Well, whatever it was, Philippe invites you to peruse and enjoy the exhibits. Would you like red or white?”
Desi and I exchanged a look, and he smiled at the woman. He put up a hand with two fingers. “Two red, please.”
She nodded and walked away. Desi took my hand and began to lead me around the room, looking at all the art.
“I know nothing about this stuff,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “Is it any good?”
We stood in front of a collage, where the artist had taken clips of housewives from old magazines and graffitied words over her face.
“It must be to be featured in an exhibit.” We walked, hand in hand, through the sculptures, paintings, and photographs. Everything had a general theme of vintage, with graffiti over it. I could do that.
“I wonder how much money people get for this stuff,” I wondered aloud.
“Philippe’s gallery does pretty well, I hear. So probably a lot.”
The woman reappeared with a tray of cheese and crackers and two glasses of red wine. Desi took the glasses and gave one to me. He pointed to the blood-red liquid, and I understood now why he’d asked red or white in the car.
“Toast?” he suggested.
“To what?”
“I don’t know. To our first date?” His eyes bored into mine. He was as nervous as I was, I realized. I clanked my glass against his.
“To our first date.”
A young man in a gray suit came out of nowhere. “Desiderio! How are you enjoying your visit?”
“It’s great. Thank you, Philippe, for allowing me to come visit during the day.”
“Well, the sun’s gone down now, we’ll be opening soon to the public.” Philippe gave him a look.
“You’re the owner of this place?” I blurted. “You’re so young.”
“Twenty-seven.” Philippe laughed. “Do you have a favorite piece?”
I nodded, and we began to discuss art. Eventually, when that conversation began to dwindle, the man turned to Desi.
“Were you able to do that favor for me?” he asked, digging his hands in his pockets. Desi paled. He cleared his throat and looked at the ground. “Yeah, I picked it up. I’ll finish it tonight.”
Philippe patted his friend on the back. “Good. Tell your parents I said hello.” He reached out and hugged me, kissing me on the cheek. “Beautiful pair.” He winked at me and walked away.
“What favor was it?” I pried.
“Nothing. He just made me pick up a package. I have to take it to the dump later.” He reached for my hand. “You ready to get out of here? Maybe get some dinner?”
I nodded eagerly and finished my wine. “I’d like that. This cheese is too fancy for me. I need a burger. Do you want to stop at the dump first? We’re gonna pass it,” I said as we left the gallery.
He snickered. “On a date? Nah, I’ll handle it later. I want to focus on you.”
