My Husband’s Best Friend

SOPHIE I wake up with a jolt and a gasp. I look frantically around me. Reaching out, I grab my phone to check the time. It is already past eleven in the morning. With another loud gasp, I jump out of bed and run like a possessed person to the bathroom. I am so late and Ava is definitely pissed at me. I quickly undress, pour a bowl of water down my body and then, rush out of the bathroom. I quickly mop up my body with a towel, grab a pair of black skirt and a blue shirt and slipped on a pair of pumps. I brushed my hand through my hair hurriedly, tying it into a messy bun. Then, I grab my bag and my phone. Turning on my phone, I notice that Ava had called me like a million times. God, I am not going to hear the end of it today. I stuff my phone into my bag and dash out of the room in a frenzy. I run down the stairs to the living room, unlock the door and run outside. I open my car door, jump in and start to drive. I drive like a crazy person down the road, honking loudly and screaming at people to get out of the road, all the while receiving strange and distasteful stare from people. I get to the gallery in an average of ten minutes, something that takes me at least thirty minutes on a normal day. I park the car in the garage, pick up my bag and my phone and climb out of the car, rushing in to the gallery. I push the door to the gallery open and stop in my tracks. Ava is standing in front of me with a man, with both of their backs to me. The moment they hear me walk in, they both turn, and for a moment, I am gobsmacked by the man the moment he looks at me. He is handsome. He had a face one would not want to stop staring at - with the grey eyes, his neatly carved brow, his sharp jaw - his face looks so smooth, i want to rub any palm on it just to see how it feels. “Sophie!” I hear my boss snap and it immediately jolts me back to reality. “Yeah?” I turn to face her, my brain trying to catch up with one is going on. “Oh right!” I quickly compose myself. “Hi Ava, I know I’m late and everything, but I promise it won’t happen again.” “This is the second time it has happened in two weeks,” she says, glaring at me. “You know I do not tolerate lateness, Sophie.” “I know, I know, and I’m sorry. Don’t fire me, please?” She stares at me for a while. Then, turning around, she says while waving her hand dismissively, “See to it that this gentleman gets what he needs, shall you?” I sigh in relief. “Okay, yes, thank you,” I say but she walks away without even hearing me. I turn to the said gentleman. He already has his phone out and he’s clicking quickly, not even glancing up one minute. “Hello,” I say, forcing myself to be cheerful. “My name is Sophie. How can I help you?” There is a short silence as the man continues to click away on his phone, not even glancing up to acknowledge what I’ve just said. How rude. “Hello,” i say again, in a louder voice. “I’m Sophie. How can I help you?” No answer. All that can be heard is the sound of him clicking on his phone. Okay, now I’m so close to being pissed. My day already started out terribly and now, I have to attend to a customer as rude as this? “Excuse me,” I say, in a louder, harsher tone. “Do you need something?” I snap. He slowly raised his head, a frown on his perfect face. “I can hear you quite well. There’s no need to shout.” “So, you just chose not to answer?” I snap, frowning back at him. He sounds so insufferable. Just my luck that my first customer would be rude, stuck-up and insufferable. Without a reply, he turns, slipping his hands in his pocket. “I assume you are the one to show me where your best artworks are,” he says. I suck in a deep breath to calm myself down. “Come with me please,” I say. I walk ahead of him and he walks behind me as I take him round the art gallery. As we walk, I say, “We keep some of our most wonderful and precious artworks in a special place in the gallery.” I push the door open and step into a small room. “Here.” The man walks in. He stands in the middle of the room, looking around. “This is… interesting.” “It definitely is. There are some wonderful artworks here and a great story behind them even. I can talk to you about anyone if you want.” He points at an oil painting of a figure standing at the edge of a lake. “That,” he says. “What can you say about that?” I glance at the painting, swallowing hard. There is no need to be nervous, I tell myself, I’ve done this many times. I’ve practised this many times. I know what to say. Feigning confidence, I walk towards the painting with the man right behind me. “So, this is an oil painting and the canvas is 48 inches tall and 60 inches wide. As you can see, the dominant colors are shades of indigo, cobalt blue, and touches of silver. The colours kind of give a sense of mystery and serenity.” I paused to see if he’s following me. He is staring at the painting with an impassive expression on his face, so it’s really hard to tell, but I continue anyway. “The artist uses brushstrokes used to represent the lone figure as bold and expressive. And the textures of the painting gives a sense of depth and dimensionality.” I pause, racking my brain to see if I got that right. “The artist also uses a wet-on-wet technique to create soft, feathery clouds that seem to drift across the sky. and this gives and effect of tranquility, as if…” “Stop,” comes his hard voice. I pause, turning slightly to face him. “What?” I ask. “You don’t sound like you understand or even believe what you are talking about,” he says. I stare at him, a little thrown off. “What? I…I… Of course, I understand. What are you taking about, sir?” I ask, trying to be polite. “You sound rehearsed.” Of course, it’s rehearsed, you dumbass. Just buy the painting and f*****g leave. “Do I?” I ask with a strained smile. “Forgive me, then. Would you like me to talk you about another painting?” He turns to fully face me. “Do you even know anything about art?” I blink at him. Why was he asking so much questions? Why wouldn’t he just buy the piece and leave? “If you don’t like this, I could show you another one. We have a lot of other…” “I hate when people try to sell off something to me and they don’t even understand what it is they are selling. Miss Sophia…” “Sophie,” I correct through gritted teeth. He ignores me. “I suggest you find a different job. You clearly don’t know how to do this one.” I don’t know what triggers me. Maybe it’s the buildup from everything that has happened today, or from everything that has happened to me in my entire life, but I explode. “Of course I don’t know how to!“ I snap, throwing my hands up. “You think I give a s**t what painting this is? Or what colours the artist used? Or what the artist was thinking when he painted this? Of course, I don’t! If you ask me, that’s just a weird ma n standing by a lake. So, you either buy the goddamn painting and stop asking me silly questions or you f*****g leave!“ Oh my God, was I just rude to a customer? Ava is going to f*****g kill me. The said customer on the other hand simply stares at me, unmoved. “You are also very rude.” “I’m rude?” I repeat. “I am the rude one? Really? You ignored me, called me the wrong name and basically insulted me, but I’m the rude one?” With a shake of my head, I turn slightly. “You know what? I’m done. I’m going to send in someone who can actually help and tolerate you because I can’t.” That being said, i whirl around and storm out of the room in anger.