Chapter 136: New York Stories – The Middle
Saturday, January 7th, Night
The UBER dropped them off in front of the Knight Gallery. Fallon finally got a chance to look Grant over, she concluded he could fill a suit out. He confidently led her to the door where the presented their invites.
Inside the music was tasteful, having a slightly old European edge to it. They checked their coats and Fallon her bag. Most of the people were older, and Grant guided her to the main display.
Fallon studied the painting, most were oil on canvas, she noted. There were a few watercolors, and even an acrylic on wood or two thrown in, for good measure. The paintings were diffidently surrealistic, and mostly landscapes.
"What do you think so far?" Grant asked.
"They're mostly landscapes," Fallon said.
Grant nodded, "It's kind of what Ms. Grasland is known for," he said.
"Really?" Fallon asked.
"Yeah," Grant said.
"Champagne?" The Waiter asked, holding a tray full of flutes of champagne.
"I'm not so sure about this," Fallon said.
"Sure," Grant said and took two flutes. He offered one to Fallon, who reluctantly took it. The waiter disappeared after Grant took the flutes.
After taking a sip, Grant looked at Fallon, "I have to circulate and press the flesh," Grant said.
"Oh okay," Fallon said, "I don't mind, I'd like to look at the pictures."
Grant chuckled, "Okay, when I'm done, I'll find you," he said.
"I can't wait," Fallon said, which caused Grant to smile before he walked away.
That left Fallon to look at the painting. Every so often she would take a sip of her champagne. It was just landscape after landscape, and she liked a good landscape painting. She preferred the Dutch School, these were much more, well Teutonic.
Finally, one of the painting caught her attention. It was a portrait and not a landscape. Surrealistic like the rest of the painting, but this was of young blonde woman, if Fallon cared to guess, just an adult eighteen maybe twenty at the oldest.
Fallon studied the painting, mainly because it was so difficult from the rest. Looking closely Fallon could see the brush strokes and the fine detail work the artist put into the painting. There was a labor of love in this painting, Fallon concluded.
"Not everything I do is a landscape," a feminine voice from behind and above echoed in Fallon's ear.
Fallon turned around to see a tall blonde woman. This woman was wearing heels which easily made her a foot taller than Fallon. Fallon studied this woman, she wore a well made and designed black cocktail dress with a plunging vee neck that had laces in it, which gave it a corseted look. Her nails were short and lacquered black except for a pair of red accent fingernails. There was a long gold necklace that plunged down the vee neck to grab attention. The figure was strong and athletic in build. This woman's blonde hair was worn in a ponytail that was resting on her left shoulder with the end resting roughly where her collar bone is. Her ear had multiple piercings including an industrial in one of them. It was the green eyes that put Fallon off though, they were sharp and, in some way, aristocratic.
"I see," Fallon said, taken aback.
"You seem to like that painting in particular," the tall blonde observed.
"It's different," Fallon said.
"It's of a person for one," The Tall Blonde said.
"There is also more care, and fine detail put into it," Fallon said.
The tall blonde chuckled, "You noticed," she said, "Most people don't."
"Sure," Fallon said.
"That's my niece, Kora, after her freshman year of college," The Tall Blonde said.
Fallon looked at the Tall Blonde, "You're Alex Grasland?" she asked.
"Yes, I am," The Tall Blonde said, "But most of the people don't know that?"
"Why?" Fallon asked.
"I prefer my art to do my talking, and not my picture," Alex said.
Fallon nodded, she also noted Alex spoke perfect English. Too perfect, there were none of the ticks, quirks, or nuances of a native English Speaker from the United States. Having lived years in Greenwich Village, Fallon could tell, that Alex Grasland was not a native of that area of Manhattan. It was almost as if she spoke school book Noah Webster accentless American English.
"I was wondering about your landscapes, though," Fallon said.
"Oh yeah?" Alex asked.
Fallon walked over to one. They looked it over and Fallon took the time to study the painting. This one wasn't as finely detailed as the portrait of her niece, but there was a considerable effort put into it. The landscape though done surreal did remind Fallon of somewhere. Somewhere she's been before, the walkways, and a pond with a stone viaduct in the background, it was alien, yet familiar at the same time.
"I see the lady lies what she sees," Alex said.
"Please, you don't have to be so formal," Fallon said.
"I would be informal," Alex said, "But you have an advantage, I do not."
"That would be?" Fallon asked.
"You know who I am, but I don't know who you are," Alex said.
Fallon was about to say something Grant returned he looked at Alex and smiled. "Alex, I see you've met my date," he said.
"Well, I would say we've not formally met," Alex said.
"Where are my manners," Grant said.
"Yeah, where are they?" Fallon asked.
"Fallon, this is the artist and the reason we're here tonight, Alex Grasland," Grant said.
Fallon and Alex took hands and shook.
"Alex, this is my date, Fallon Adams," Grant said, finishing the introduction.
"A pleasure to meet you, formally," Alex said.
"The pleasure is all mine," Fallon said, and nodded, then returned to looking at the painting.
Grant turned to look at the painting Fallon was looking at. He smiled and nodded, "Ah yes, Shu Swamp in the Spring," Grant said, "One of my personal favorites."
"Nice," Fallon said.
"You never told me that, Grant," Alex said.
"Yeah, I use to play hockey not far from there," Grant said.
"You grew up on the North Shore of Long Island?" Fallon asked.
"Mostly, but, spend a lot of time in the city," Grant said.
"Fun," Fallon said.
"It can be," Grant said. Fallon smiled and nodded. They spent the rest of the night circulating, talking and looking at the paintings.
The UBER dropped her off in front of the place they agreed to meet. Trin looked up and down the building and nodded. It was a typical sports bar, a place for bros to hang out. Looking in the window at the multitude of large flat-screen televisions, each with a different sport playing on it, or at least a different team.
Trin secretly, hoped that the Carolina Hurricanes game was on one of the TVs. One secret that Trin had was, even though people knew she was a hockey fan, she wasn't a fan of any of the local New York Teams. The only sport she didn't root for a local team was hockey. She also rooted for her old high school in sports as well.
Looking closely through the window, she studied the faces she could see. Trin spotted Zav sitting by himself, nursing a beer and looking at a screen that she couldn't see what was on.
Counting to ten, and taking one last deep breath, Trin walked into the sports bar. Once inside, she was glad she didn't get too dressed up. This was a fairly down to earth looking place, so if she went all out. People would notice her more than they do now.
Trin had become used to the eyes of guys, and even some gals checking her out. Of her and her two sisters Trin now tended to have a few more curves, but still was in still excellent shape.
Finally, she arrived at the table and its lone occupant. Standing back, she studied Zav, he was about average height and seemed well-groomed. His brown hair was neatly trimmed and styled, but it wasn't done today. His clothes were neat and not wrinkled, but the fitted to him. She noted his fingernails were manicured, but there were callouses on his hands. Not what she expected when she first started exchanging DMs.
With another count to ten and a deep breath, Trin walked over to the table. She smiled at the occupant with a dimpled smile.
"Zav?" she asked, gently.
He turned and looked up at her. Slowly, a smile broke on his handsome face. Also, up close Trin noticed his eyes were beautiful and were a unique shade of brown.
"Trinity?" he asked back.
Trin nodded, "Yes," she said.
"Please, please sit down," Zav said.
"Thank you," Trin said, and took a seat across the table from him.
"What would you like to drink?" Zav asked.
"I'm partial to Blue Point if they have it," Trin said.
"I do believe they do," Zav said, and signaled the waitress.
"Then I'll have a Blue Point," Trin said.
"Very well then," Zav said, and turned to the waitress, "I'll have Modelo Negra and the Lady will have a Blue Point."
"Very well," The Waitress said and walked away.
Zav looked at Trin. "Yes?" he asked.
"You're assuming I'm a lady," Trin said.
"I was taught to be respectable," Zav said.
"It's good," Trin said, "You're surprised I ordered a beer."
"It was unexpected," Zav said.
"There's a lot about me that's unexpected," Trin said.
Zav smiled, "I can believe it," he said.
"Don't worry, most of it isn't scary at all," Trin said.
"There's scary stuff?" Zav asked.
Trin smiled, "Zav, we're both adults here, we both have baggage," she said.
Zav nodded, "So true," he said.
"There's something you want to ask," Trin said, intuitively.
"I do," Zav said.
"So, please ask it," Trin said.
"Trinity, how is a raven like a writing desk?" Zav asked.
Trin chuckled, "The famous riddle," she said.
"Yes, the famous riddle," Zav said.
"Well, it wasn't answered in the text," Trin said.
"True," Zav said.
"I believe it was the Hatter that asked it, and since it was the Hatter, it is more than likely, just non-sense," Trin said.
"Interesting point," Zav said.
"After all, we're all mad here," Trin said.
Zav chuckled, "Touché, Trinity, touché," he said.
"Are you conceding?" Trin asked.
"On that point," Zav said.
Trin nodded, "There's more you want to know," she said.
"Have you ever seen the Alice Statue in Central Park?" Zav asked.
"Yes, I have, several times in fact?" Trin said.
"I quite enjoy going there, and, no, it will sound strange, or geeky," Zav said.
"You can say it, Zav," Trin said.
"Ever hear of the Knight Gallery?" Zav asked.
"Yes, in passing," Trin said.
"Well a few years ago, they had an exposition of art inspired by kids in Central Park," Zav said.
"Okay?" Trin asked, confused and looking at him oddly.
"Let me explain, I was taking a youth group, I council there," Zav answered, the unasked question, "So, there was this one painting, a copy, I believe, done by the artist own hand though, of these two girls playing on the Alice Statue, it really touched me."
"Do you remember the name of the painting?" Trin asked, "Something that makes that big of impression would be rememberable I'd think."
"Girls on a Statue by Peyton Scott," Zav said.
Trin nodded, trying to keep her poker face on. Yes, that was a copy of a painting done by Peyton Scott, in her own hand. It must be Trin's mom's copy. Trin knew that the original hung in a brownstone townhouse in Hell's Kitchen.
"I think I'm familiar with that work," Trin said.
"It's beautiful and made me want to read the book again," Zav said.
Trin nodded, "Zav, what do you want to get out of the app?" she asked.
"Well, right to the point," Zav said.
"That's how I am," Trin said.
"I want to meet people and…" Zav's voice trailed off as he sought to phrase the rest correctly, "…see where it may lead."
Trin nodded, "Then let's," she said, with a dimpled smile.
The UBER ride wasn't long just down the west side to the Meat Packing District. They were let out and Ellie looked up at the building and turned her friends.
"What in the world? Here again?" Ellie asked.
"Of course, it's a great place," Jade said.
"Anyways, Libby, there's a guest DJ tonight," Ainsley said.
"It's not Einar again?" Ellie asked.
"No, it's not Einar," Jade said, "But it's a good DJ."
Ellie nodded, and the group of friends went in. The club was on the roof of the building, so it took a while to get to the club's door. When the elevator doors opened Ellie looked out to see a small line.
They got off the elevator and joined the line. Hardy ended up next to Ellie. Ellie watched Jade, Ainsley and Finley talk; they were all dressed to impress. Justin was close to his girlfriend Finley, but he was talking to Jared.
"Why are you here?" Hardy asked.
Ellie looked at Hardy. "What Hardy?" she asked.
"Why are you here, Libby?" Hardy asked.
"Are you trying to philosophical?" Ellie asked.
"No, serious," Hardy said, "You don't strike me as the type to come to The City."
"Ains never told you my story?" Ellie asked.
"No, you just showed up with Ains, and we went from there," Hardy said.
"Well the Wikipedia version is I came up here after I graduated college to visit my friend and godson, and an opportunity came up for me to write here I couldn't turn down," Ellie said.
"That's all?" Hardy asked.
"Yeah basically," Ellie said, "Why so interested after all these years?"
"Never got to know you and your story," Hardy said.
"That's it," Ellie said.
"Doesn't explain the brownstone," Hardy said.
"My Dad does business up here, so he bought it, and well he lets me use it," Ellie said, "Thought, I was a Sugar Baby, Hardy?"
"Wondering, questioning, mostly," Hardy said.
Ellie smiled and rested a hand on his cheek. She felt the warmth of his skin, even though the several rings she wore. "Hardy, you're cute and will make some guy a lucky man," she said.
"Thanks, Libby," Hardy said.
"You're welcome," Ellie said, as the line started to move. Looking down the hallway Ellie could see the doorman. Clubs change but one thing is a constant, doormen. She's seen this one before, he was over six foot five inches tall and built like a National Football League Guard. His skin was dark but also reflective in the lighting, his hair was worn in long dreadlocks which were pulled back ran down his back. Unexpected he also wore glasses.
When the group reached the door, he looked them over. There was a pregnant pause, followed by a long sigh. His eyes settled on Ainsley.
"Welcome back, Ainsley, are you going to behave?" The Doorman asked.
"I always behave, Joe," Ainsley said.
He let out a deep belly laugh, "Yeah badly," Joe the doorman said.
Ainsley batted her eyes at Joe," But Joe badly is still behaving," Ainsley said, in a cute innocent-sounding voice.
Joe shook his head, "Okay," he said.
"Nothing to worry about, Joe," Finley said.
Joe chuckled and signaled them in until Ellie came up to him. He stopped her and looked her over.
"Well, well, well, you look very nice tonight, Libby," Joe said.
"Thanks, Joe," Ellie said.
"The same goes for you as does Ainsley," Joe said.
"What would that be?" Ellie asked.
"You need to behave tonight, Libby," Joe said.
"Joe, I'm going to have fun tonight and live my life," Ellie said.
"That's what I'm afraid of, Libby," Joe said.
Ellie laughed, "You're cute, Joe," she said.
"Say hello to Trinity for me," Joe said, and let Ellie and Hardy in. As they walked into the club.
"Who's Trinity?" Hardy asked.
"My friend Trin," Ellie said, "That's her full name."
"Never thought of it," Hardy said.
"We all have our secrets, that are only secrets because no one asks," Ellie said.
"Really Libby, quoting Anna Becca?" Hardy asked, "I figured you'd be more literate."
"I am, but truths are truths," Ellie said, just as Ainsley came up to them.
"Libby, you did get in," Ainsley said, then she turned to Hardy, "Oh, hi Hardy."
"Glad to see you're happy I got in, Ains," Hardy said.
"What's up Ains?" Ellie asked.
"It's a buffet," Ainsley said.
"Okay, these places are usually meat markets," Ellie said.
"Let's get some prime cuts," Ainsley said.
"That's usually the plan, Ains," Ellie said.
"Well then let's do it," Ainsley said.
"Okay Nike," Ellie said.
Ainsley grabbed Ellie's hand, "But first, Libby, I need shots," she said dragging Ellie off, leaving Hardy shaking his head.