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Despite being tired, I tossed and turned, my mind still caught up in the meeting with Roger and the way staff looked at me – or the way I realized staff had been looking at me since I started my new job. It ruined what had been a great shift.

There was nothing I could do about it so I tried to shut off my mind and fall back asleep but once again, it was a long time coming.

Chapter 3

KATE

Drake went back to work just before three that afternoon, and on my part, I packed up the car with boxes of my supplies and canvases. Before I left, I put Sophie in her car seat and drove to my father's place down the highway. I wanted to go back to the studio but didn't want my father to have to make the trip. It was an hour there but I didn't mind.

After I dropped Sophie with Elaine and my dad, I drove up the coast to the studio and parked on the street outside. For the next few minutes, I unloaded boxes, carrying them into the building one at a time. Before I was finished, a guy about my age saw me struggling with some canvases and offered to help.

"You're the new tenant?" he asked, taking a couple of canvases up the stairs.

"Yes," I said and we stopped on the landing. "I'm Kate."

He extended his hand. "Marco," he said. "I'm in the studio across the hall."

We shook hands and it was slightly awkward. "I see you do naturalist art," he said and held out one of my unfinished canvases featuring an elephant drinking out of a waterhole.

"Yes, I went on an art safari in Kenya and started the series last year."

"Cool," he said. "I do acrylics. Urbanscapes."

When I frowned in confusion, he added. "The urban landscape."

"I'd love to see your work," I said, eager to meet other artists in the building and become part of a community."

"Come on over when you can. I'm right across from you. I share my studio space with my girlfriend, Serena. We'll be having some hot tea soon and you're welcome to join us."

"Hot tea?"

"She's British. They drink hot tea. I got in the habit."

"I love hot tea," I replied. "My mother was from Poland and they drink a lot of it."

I smiled, glad that he was attached so that there'd be no misunderstanding about my intentions or his.

"Sounds great."

We finished carrying up the boxes and canvases and I went into my studio and he into his.

I closed the door and stood in the empty space, glancing around, imagining it once I had everything settled. I turned around in a circle. The room was bright because of the west-facing windows, but it was indirect light and filled the room. Overhead incandescent lights added to the brightness. Several of my blank canvases leaned against one wall. I was eager to finish my current work and move on to my other plans.

There was a workbench against one wall w

ith a shelf. I could stack my paints and brushes and other paraphernalia there. I needed to go to the local art supply store for some fresh paint thinner and a few other supplies before I could get started. I wanted to get a high stool so I could sit at the workbench and use my computer if I wanted. Plus, I wanted a small television so I could watch news if I wanted while I worked.

For the next hour, I unpacked my supplies and tried to arrange them in some logical fashion, and then wrote down a list of what other supplies I'd need. I decided to leave and do some shopping. I could return the next day and maybe get my easel set up and start back on my current work in progress.

I picked up my unfinished painting and studied it in the bright light from the window. The elephant was sketched in and half-painted. Beside it, I'd sketched in a wildebeest, which stood knee-deep in the water, a white bird on its back. In the distance was a copse of baobab trees, their spindly branches reaching up towards the white-blue sky. The white hot African sun beat down on the scene. I could almost feel the heat from memory, smell the dust, hear the wind whipping through the tall grass.

I was pleased with the painting so far and with the studio space, I couldn't wait to get back to work on it. In fact, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect setup. The only thing missing was a sound system so I could listen to music while I worked.

I checked my watch which read close to 4:30 P.M. and so I decided to pop over to check out Marco's space and see what he meant by urbanscapes. I grabbed my bag and locked the door, then went across the hall to his studio, knocking on the door hesitantly. I still felt a bit nervous meeting new people but he seemed nice.

The door opened and a woman in paint spattered blue-jean overalls answered, her dark hair pulled back with a blue head band, long braids falling over her shoulders. She smiled at me.

"You're Kate, right?" she said with a slight British accent.

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