BPOV.
Working at the Gallery wasn't as hard as I thought. Sure, the fact that I was very interested in the paintings helped a lot, but I never guessed my memory would work just as fine with all the information gathered on artist, dates and styles.
"You sure know your art, Swan" Mike tends to comment. I believe he won't give up any time soon. At first I suspected he had a slight crush, but each day his desition on making a move gets stronger and stronger.
But everything else was just as fine, I became impressed with my social skills. I usually am a good talker, since my mother Renee showed me how, but 8 hours straight of talking is new. Maybe I'd found my new place.
"Bella? Could you come over to my office when you're done?", Mike murmured near my ear, barely touching my elbow, in a fancy way, since I was selling out a painting to an old couple.
As I finished, I turned my high heels into his office, and closed the door behind me.
"Please, sit" he offered, with a delicate hand gesture, and so I did.
"On Friday, the gallery is having its 10th anniversary, and we are celebrating. The new collection of David Speare and another 10 new artists are arriving and we have to make sure we sell every piece. Tomorrow we'll need the staff to help us unload the truck that arrives at noon with the merchadice. It's your job to administrate the volunteers and make sure everything is set."
I agreed with excitement every order given. After being dismissed, I turned and asked with curiousity. "Will the Cullen family be joining us?"
"Ah" He said, with a glow in his eyes. "Yes, of course. Please, make sure to grab their interest, but not too much. They get easily annoyed."
The next day was a blur. Teenagers were on my way since they showed up in th building. Everyone was scared and nervous and anxious. They all wanted to show how good they were... teenage insecurity. I made lists of chores and give them to all 10 of them.
When the truck arrived, they all helped unloading and placing in the main room. Back from one of my trips to the truck, a bronze haired, and very attractive man in his mid 20s was standing in front of a statue. He caught my attention, even with his back at me.
"Can I help you?" I asked him. He turned to see me and I suddenly forgot how to breathe. He was gorgeous, yes, but there was more. His eyes were hypnotizing, and not only because they were a deep, fiery golden brown, but because they penetrated to my very core. I felt he could see through my deepest fears just by that 3 second gaze.
He smiled a crooked smiled after blinking at last. His stare was interrupted by a chuckle, and he returned his attention to the sculpture in front of him.
"I was percieving this piece" he said, with a voice so liquid that melted my thoughts, "I notice it has a very work through technique, but I wonder why is it that it won't appeal me."
"Well," I dared, "if I may share a bit of my thoughts, I believe the technique is great, but the artist poured into his art whatever he was feeling. He distorts a great part of the phisiology, mistaking it with style. The background of someone that feels the need to do that is kind of aggresive. I, personally, dislike aggressiveness."
He lifted his eyebrows, impressed. He stared at me with a curios gaze and then at the figure. "You think a lot, don't you?"
I stood there, frozen, not knowing what to say. I browsed through all my vocabulary in search of the correct words, but then he continued. "So, you don't like aggressive people?"
I chuckled. "No, not really. I believe there is no thing as an aggressive person. I believe there are people who are deeply hurt, and therefore they've learned to cope with pain through aggressiveness. But that doesn't mean it's ok. We all have to deal with our demons."
He continued looking at the sculpture, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Then, he stretched his hand. "Edward Cullen, nice to meet you."
My blood ran to my feet, and maybe it showed in my face, because he appeared to be holding back a giggle. I shook his hand. "Isabella Swan. But call me Bella"
"Bella" he said, or more like he sang. I never knew my name could sound so beautifully.
"I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then." He said, as he paced out the gallery.
I stood there, staring at the entrance, not believing that he was real. Half of me wanted him to come back and the other half was begging my brain to move, because I had a lot of work to do.
As the sun went down, the gallery was looking fancier and fancier. Ready for the perfect art show. Mike walked around the place and approved the details.
"Good job, Swan" he cheered. "How about dinner to celebrate? Tomorrow we wouldn't have a chance."
He took me to a very expencive restaurant, which was near to empty. I tried to be as casual as possible, to avoid any possibility that he might think I reciprocate, but agreeing on dinner might have ruined already my plan.
We sat, we chatted and we ate. We laughed, we joked around, and he payed the check. As we were leaving, I saw the same bronze haired head I met this evening, sitting in front of a beautiful strawberry blonde. I left aside my shyness, after all, he was a customer, and sales was about social skills. "Hey," I told Mike, "isn't he Edward Cullen? Shouldn't we greet him?"
Mike studdered a bit, and shrugged.
I ignored him and walked up to Edward, and I knew Mike was following.
"Good evening" I managed to say, in a nice and serene tone. Edward turned to see me, and I believe his face lit up.
"Bella Swan" he said, as he turned to face me. He stood up, and shook my hand as we pecked cheeks.
"May I introduce you to Tanya Denali, a close friend of mine. Tanya, Isabella here is..." he turned to look at me, with that crooked smile and that (now familiar) curiosity in his eyes "quiet interesting. She works at the art gallery. I believe there is an event, tomorrow."
"Well" Tanya replied, with a lovely voice, "then I can't wait to go to the event tomorrow. I expect to be as blown away as Edward here. Not everything grasps his attention, you see."
That last phrase had a hint of resentment... but I couldn't believe it as true. Tanya was the second most beautiful human Ive ever seen. Her eyes were as piercing as Edward's. She couldn't be bitter over a man's attention... not her.
"We better get going" I hurried. They were eating rare steak, the way I've never dared to. Covered in blood and a very small portion of salad. "Enjoy your dinner"
"Thanks," said Edward. "Don't keep your date waiting"
Mike! I totally forgot about him. He was behind me, but never enunciated a word. Maybe he has never crossed words with his clients, but that's silly. He owns an art gallery, he should have communication with his collectors. But that wasn't my concern.
My concern is to look dashing tomorrow, and prepare myself from whatever Tanya wants to throw at me.