Page 59 of Sight Unseen

Nate

This Monday morning would be a little different from my usual routine. Today was about getting up, taking the spunk-spattered sheets off the bed, putting new sheets on, and doing an extra load of washing.

Male pride washed over me as I thought, Huh, look at me with the remnants of my debauched weekend of hot sex with my delectable boyfriend.

That word, as it applied to Cody, still sounded strange. I had taken to saying it out loud simply to hear how it sounded.

Once I’d done all the household chores, made breakfast, and tidied up, I made my way to my studio. I was almost finished with my current project and halfway through another. I was itching to finish them both.

I’d been working for a couple of hours when the doorbell rang. I walked over to the intercom mounted in the wall and clicked it on.

“Hello?”

A cheery voice echoed down the line. “It’s Suzanne. Can I come in?”

“Of course. I’m down in the studio.”

I buzzed her in. This was a new setup I’d had installed that made life easier and safer. I controlled who I let into my house without having to make my way up and down the backyard path. The installation guy had told me it was top of the line and had the capability to have people enter their fingerprints so they could open the door themselves. I hadn’t been keen on that idea, especially since I was now hoping to have regular sex sessions and didn’t want anyone just strolling in and finding us in flagrante delicto.

Cody had cackled with laughter when I mentioned it. “Come on, Nate, be an exhibitionist for a change. Let our friends find us doing the dirty. Who cares?”

I cared. What he and I had was special, and while he may have been willing to put on a show, I certainly wasn’t. Call me old-fashioned.

Sometimes his relaxed attitude to all things sexual made me blush.

I busied myself putting some final touches to Nate’s Folly, as I called it, and got distracted to the point I didn’t hear Suzanne come up behind me and place a firm hand on my shoulder.

“Nate, I called and called, and you were so absorbed you didn’t hear me. You were so caught up in that piece.”

She leaned in and I smelled the fragrance of her hair and the scent of her perfume.

“That is incredible.” She moved closer.

I wasn’t ready to share this with anyone yet. Nate’s Folly was special. It was a culmination of every longing I’d ever had, every regret, and every good thing that had ever happened in my life.

I reached over and fumbled for the cloth, draping it quickly over my unfinished creation. “It’s a work in progress, and until it’s done, you can’t see it.” I kept my tone light. “It’s bad luck.”

“I understand that.” There was something knowing in her tone and I hoped she hadn’t seen enough to know what the bust was turning into. What it had always been meant to be.

And there’s someone who needs to see it first. Along with the other piece I’m making especially for him.

It was intended to be a second Christmas present for Cody.

“You should never have doubted yourself, Nate. Your talent still shines in everything you do.”

Her praise touched me, warming my heart.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Suzanne moved around the studio, her shoes squeaking on the floor as soft murmurs of approval salted her words. She seemed curious about everything I was working on and I had no doubt she picked up pieces and checked them out. Usually, I didn’t like people touching my work, but knowing Suzanne I was certain she treated the pieces with such reverence, I knew they’d be fine.

“Are those new shoes?” I reached out and rearranged some things on my workbench. Scented air wafted past my face as Suze moved past me.

“Ah, yeah. Comfy. Hey, this shell arrangement is beautiful. Is it for Cody’s gallery?”

I nodded as I cleaned my hands and my tools. Conchious Effort was a piece I was really proud of. It was the first work I’d done with confidence.

“Yeah. He’s putting them in an exhibition at Artisana next week. It’s his regular October pre-Halloween event. He says he’d already had enquiries but being the businessman he is, he’s going to try and push the price up for me. You know, play the patrons against each other and make the most money for the starving artist.” My voice was wry but the statement wasn’t as glib as it sounded.