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“Yes, but you will miss me.” Luna dug her fork into Cullen’s escarole and shoved it in her mouth. “Mmm . . . garlicky.” She stopped in her tracks. Her inclination was to say, “And be sure to skip the garlic when you’re on your date,” but she just let it float away in her thought balloons. She’d spare Cullen the further embarrassment.
They split the check three ways, which is what they normally did. As they were leaving, Luna whispered in Chi-Chi’s ear, “Don’t worry. Cullen will pick up the tab at Bouchorelle.”
Chi-Chi stopped in her tracks, getting ready to protest, but Luna slipped her arm through Chi-Chi’s and gave her a look that said, “Don’t argue. Keep walking, girlfriend.”
Chapter Ten
Stillwell Art Center
Monday
Normally the center was closed on Monday and Tuesday in order to give everyone time to do whatever personal things needed to be done, clean up their shops, order materials, or simply take the day off. But for Ellie there was no day off. She would do a walkabout on Monday morning with Ziggy and Marley, checking that everything was in its place.
A few artists worked on those two days, enabling them to tend to their shops. Jennine from Clay-More was one of them. It was alone time to make whatever she would put on display for the week. She would hold classes and give people an inside look at her workshop, but generally she was dressed to the nines, tens, and often over the top when the center was open to the public. Plus she had an apprentice who would throw clay on Friday and Saturday when the center was bustling. Ellie never quite made the connection between someone who posed as a mature glamour girl and making pottery. Once Ellie made a comment about it, and Jennine’s answer was, “I love to get my hands on things and mold them.” Over time, watching Jennine pounce on men, the answer made a lot of sense.
Ellie went into her office on the second floor, which overlooked the atrium. From there she could see the front entrance and the rear glass doors to the patio. The only thing that hindered her view was the interior landscaping, but that was a very small inconvenience. Very small.
She pulled out her Rolodex. Yes, Ellie still used the same spinning wheel that held years of contact cards. She once tried to transfer all the information into an Excel spreadsheet, but flipping through the cards was a lot easier and for some odd reason, more satisfying. With technology dictating our lives, we’ve lost the use of a lot of our senses. Smell, for example. You can’t smell anything over a phone or computer. Taste. Same thing. Touch? Keyboards or phone pads.Would anyone know how to use a pencil?she mused. Even our sense of hearing has been dampened by digital recordings and portable mediocre speakers. There is nothing like sitting in your home with a good sound system where you can hear all the parts. The violins, cellos, chimes, woodwinds. The fine points of music. Ellie sighed.They call it progress. I call it unfortunate.Unfortunate because people have become incapable of basic communication. Emojis, abbreviations. They don’t even speak on the phone. Just a bunch of diodes and keystrokes.
Ellie flipped to the letterB. Nathan Belmont. She picked up the landline and dialed his number.
“Stillwell Art Center?” Nathan was surprised to see the caller ID. “Is thisthee, Ellie Stillwell?”
“Nathan Belmont. How are you?” Ellie’s smile could be heard through her voice.
“I’m doin’ great. And you? Everything all right?”
“I’m doing great myself, and yes, everything is fine. But I need a little help.”
“Shoot. What’s up?”
“I know you’ve been here a couple of times.”
“I have indeed. You created a masterpiece.”
“Thanks, Nate. I am in awe every time I walk in here. I can’t believe I’ve been able to pull it off!” Ellie chuckled.
“So what can I help you with? I’m not doing any more heavy lifting.” He snickered.
“No. Nothing like that.” Ellie went on to explain about the social-status mothers bringing their children to the center and letting them run wild.
“Oh, I know the type.”
“Yes. They buy two bottles of chardonnay, salads, sit on the patio, and ignore their kids. They run all over the place. It’s like Chuck E. Cheese.”
Nathan let out a bellow. “And I imagine that’s not too popular with visitors.”
“Oh, you are not kidding. Last week one of the little brats practically knocked a woman over. She didn’t get hurt but she was very annoyed. And I don’t blame her.”
“So what do you need from me?
“A good friend suggested I hire a security guard.”
“But you have the most sophisticated system in the county.”
“I do indeed. But it’s not so much about security as it is about intimidation.”
“Ho. Ho. Ho.” Nathan’s deep voice was reverberating in the way Ellie remembered. “If I am hearing you correctly, you want me to wear a uniform and look authoritative.”
