Chapter 3 : The Phone Call
Karl leaned back in his chair and stretched. It wasn't very exciting being chief designer, especially when they were in that quiet period where there really wasn't any much to design. He closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair even further, and therefore almost fell off when his mobile rang. He managed to grab his desk before his chair flipped over, but banged his knee against the table. Looking out of his office to see if anyone had seen that most embarrassing moment, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
Karl frowned, not recognising the voice. "Who's 'me'?"
"Mark."
"Oh, right." Karl rubbed his bang knee, hoping that there wouldn't be much of a bruise. "How may I help you?"
Mark laughed. "I think it's more about how I helped you. I just had lunch with Sarah."
Karl straightened, wondering what priceless information Mark had managed to obtain. "Oh, oh, right. Thanks a lot, Mark, you're a good guy. So… did you find out anything?"
"I found out that Jamie's wife Aurelia is working at that restaurant we went to, and that her English's much improved, and that…"
Karl cut him off. "Mark."
"Yes?"
"Please don't do that. Who's Jamie, anyway?"
Mark laughed again. "A friend of Sarah and I, you've never met him. I was just playing around with you. Maybe you could ask Jamie next time about buying stuff for women, he's had a lot more luck than me. Or you could learn Portuguese, that helped him loads…"
"Mark…" Karl moaned, but he smiled to himself. Mark was one amusing fellow.
"Okay, okay, fine. But you owe me, and it's gonna be much more than torture and gossip." Mark cleared his throat. "I have got very, very good information. You are going to fall on your knees and kiss the floor I walk on."
Karl had no idea how he was going to do that since they were speaking over the phone, but he kept quiet and let Mark continue anyway, eager to find out what "very, very good information" it was that Mark had got his hands on.
"She wants a pearl bracelet. A really pretty one. And don't go for the black ones even though they look sleek, because Sarah likes the pink ones better."
"Wow… that's detailed. How on earth did you get that out of her?"
"No, no, no way am I going to divulge my secret. I need to keep something to myself, man, or I'll lose my usefulness in this world."
"Fine, Mark, fine. But thanks anyway. I owe you a treat."
"You sure do. I'll call you up when I'm hungry. But for now, I'm stuffed, and I need to get back to work."
"Yeah, me too. Thanks again. Bye."
"Hey, Karl?"
"Yeah?"
"Good luck."
Karl smiled. "Thanks, I'll probably need it. Good luck to you too."
"For what?"
"For… erm… you know… whatever."
"Okay."
Mark hung up the phone. Karl was a good guy to talk to. Crap, mostly, but still, talk. And that was fun. Peter didn't exactly have too much time to do such things anymore, now that he was happily married. And marriage just seemed to draw him into his job because he was "the head of a family" now. With just him and Juliet and no one else on the way in the near future, Mark hadn't yet figured out where the "family" came from, but Peter was happy, and so he guessed that all was going good.
The gallery was silent, with just a few people moving about looking at the pieces that Mark stared at day in, day out. He couldn't wait to change the artwork, so he would have something new to stare at day in, day out. He was seriously considering changing careers, but he had no idea what he could do. Maybe he could make greeting cards. Yeah, right, he thought. And that is so going to help me pay my rent. He could play the guitar, somewhat. Maybe he could join a band that would get famous and then he'd be a celebrity. That would bring me one step closer to the swimsuit models. The only problem was that his guitar was in his parents' place in the countryside, and he had a sneaky feeling that they'd given it to his teenage cousin, Bratty Bob. Well, his name was Bob. The 'Bratty' part had been an add-on courtesy of Mark.
Mark continued on with his fantasies about alternative careers, and did not notice at all when Juliet sauntered into the gallery. She stood before him for ages, but he didn't even see her, too absorbed in exploring every single room of his little castle in the air. "Hello?" she finally said. "Mark, you in there?"
Mark jumped. "Oh, Juliet," he gasped. "You gave me a fright."
"I don't see how I could have done that, I was standing in front of you for so long. You gave me a fright, though. I thought you'd died with your eyes open."
"Hardy har har, Juliet. Hardy har har." Mark stood up and leaned against the counter. "So… what are you doing here?"
Juliet took two tickets out of her jacket pocket. "I was planning to surprise Peter with movie tickets tonight, but he has to work late. I told him about it, and he said to ask you. So I was wondering if you wanted to go."
"That's it!" Mark exclaimed triumphantly.
"That's what?" Juliet asked, confused.
"The alternative career I was thinking of," Mark explained. "I left out 'escort'."
"I thought it was a female job."
Mark winked. "I'm sure there are many more desperate women out there, like yourself, who will gladly pay for my valuable company."
Juliet whacked his arm playfully. "Shut up, Mark." Then she waved the tickets in front of him. "Eight o' clock. You coming?"
Mark pretended to think, then grinned. "Yeah, yeah I'm coming. It's free, isn't it?"
"You're such a cheapskate, you know?" Juliet said, laughing.
Mark nodded in agreement. "I know, that's why I do favours for so many people. You get plenty of free stuff if you're nice to people."
