CROSS MY HEART

Man with secrets

"Say that again, slowly this time because I don't think I heard you right," Camille said, nearly squeaking.

"I got the commission, Camille," Selene replied.

"The same man who humiliated you in front of an entire gallery is now paying you to paint for him?" Camille asked.

Selene switched the phone to her other ear and kept walking. "That's exactly what happened."

"That doesn't sound like a job offer. That sounds like a plot twist," Camille said.

"Girl, I don't know what to say to you. He rejected the portfolio in front of everyone last night. Then this morning he calls it 'adequate' and slides a contract across his desk like nothing happened."

"Adequate?" Camille repeated. "He said 'adequate' to your face?"

"To my face and with a straight face. The man doesn't blink."

"So basically you agreed to work for a robot," Camille said.

"A very rich robot. With good bone structure. Unfortunately."

Camille laughed. "There it is. I knew you noticed the bone structure."

"I noticed it the way you notice a shark's teeth. Purely for survival reasons," Selene replied.

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Selene smiled to herself as she walked down the sidewalk.

"So what exactly did he want you to paint?" Camille asked.

"I don't know yet."

"You signed a contract without knowing what you're painting?" Camille's voice rose slightly.

"He said he'd give me the details later."

"That is not how normal commissions work," Camille said. "Also, you sound very calm for someone who just agreed to work for a mysterious rich man who publicly insulted her talent."

Selene sighed. "I needed the money, Camille."

"I know, and I guess the commission pays well?" Camille asked.

"Very well," Selene replied.

Camille went quiet for a second like she was digging for a treasure in her mind; Selene could almost hear her thinking.

"Okay. I understand the money part. But what else happened?" Camille finally asked.

Selene hesitated, then said, "There was a sketch."

"A sketch?" Camille repeated.

"He gave me one. It was strange."

"Strange how?"

Selene slowed slightly.

"It felt familiar."

"Familiar like you've seen it before?" Camille asked.

"Yes," Selene replied.

"Where?"

"I don't know."

"You just said it felt familiar." Camille asked, sounding confused.

"I know what I said."

"Then explain it."

"I don't know how to," Selene said as she looked down at the sidewalk as she walked, then continued talking, "It felt weird that it looked like one of my own works whose first time of being seen by affluent people was last night, as it was part of the portfolio I'd submitted."

"What does that even mean?" Camille asked.

Selene's steps slowed. "He wouldn't explain it. I asked, and he just said, 'Does it matter?' like I hadn't asked a completely reasonable question."

"That's not an answer; that's a red flag with a tailored suit on," Camille said.

"I know. I agreed anyway because I needed the money, Camille."

"I know. I'm not judging," Camille replied. "I'm just saying, if he starts keeping your fingernail clippings in a drawer somewhere, you call me first, not the police."

Selene snorted, loud enough that a woman walking past gave her a strange look. "Noted. Camille before authorities."

"That's the deal." Camille said.

"And you're being dramatic."

"I'm being appropriately dramatic," Camille replied.

"You've always been dramatic," Selene added.

"Because you keep giving me reasons."

Selene laughed softly.

"So when are you starting the commissioned work?" Camille asked.

"Tomorrow."

"You really trust this man?"

"No, but I trust myself, so I'll be careful."

"You'd better," Camille replied.

"I will."

Selene turned onto a quieter street, one she usually cut through to save ten minutes, and the amusement in her chest cooled a little as the noise of the main road faded behind her.

"Are you still there?" Camille asked.

"Still here."

"You went quiet. Are you okay?."

Selene glanced over her shoulder, out of habit more than anything. "I think someone's behind me."

Camille's voice immediately changed. "What do you mean, someone's behind you?"

"I mean there's a man about half a block back. He's been there since I turned this corner."

"Okay, that's it; I'm calling the police," Camille said.

"Don't call the police. Maybe he's just walking the same way I am."

"Selene..." Camille's voice sharpened.

"I'm serious; I don't want to overreact."

"You don't want to overreact?" Camille asked. "You called me a few minutes ago talking about a mystery sketch and a billionaire who breaks eye contact for no one. Overreacting stopped being the concern the second you got a contract from a man with secrets that may involve you!"

Selene picked up her pace without meaning to. "Fine. I'll walk faster."

"Don't walk faster. Run."

"I'm not running down a public street like a lunatic."

"Better a lunatic than a headline. Go somewhere crowded," Camille insisted.

"There are still people around."

"Then stay around them." Camille countered.

Selene looked back again.

The man was still there.

He had moved closer.

Her grip tightened around the phone.

"Camille."

"What?" Camille asked quickly.

"He's speeding up too."

"Selene, get somewhere with people. Right now," Camille said, her voice tense.

"I'm almost at your building. I'll be there in a minute."

"Don't hang up. Keep talking to me."

"About what?"

"Anything."

Selene swallowed then said, "I think your apartment needs new curtains."

"What?" Camille said, half amused.

"The ones you have are ugly."

"Are you seriously criticizing my curtains right now?"

"I'm trying to talk."

"You're terrible at it. Just keep walking," Camille replied.

Selene looked back.

"He stopped."

"Where?" Camille asked.

"At the corner."

"Is he watching you?"

"I don't know."

"Don't let him get close."

"I won't."

"Keep moving."

Selene turned the next corner fast, nearly colliding with a food cart in her path, while she kept the phone pressed hard against her ear.

"Talk to me," Camille said. "Where are you?"

"I don't know the street name; I'm just..."

She looked back one more time.

He was gone.

"He's not there anymore," she said, breathless.

"Are you sure?" Camille asked.

She scanned the street, the shopfronts, and the crowd. "I think so. I can't see him."

"Where are you right now?" Camille asked.

"I'm almost at your building. I can see the entrance."

"Good."

"I'm about to go inside."

"Don't stop until you're through the door," Camille said.

"I won't."

Selene reached the front of Camille's building, finally letting herself slow down.

She glanced toward the street.

Nothing, no sign of the man.

She turned toward the entrance, her hand moving toward the door.

"I made it," she said to Camille.

Selene was already reaching for the handle when a hand closed around her arm from behind.