Labyrinthine
CHAPTER 2
In the exhibition hall of an
exclusive art gallery, a plump, fuming, fifty-something art agent paced up and
down muttering under his breath. As he loosened his tie, his shifty eyes darted
about in agitation. Hunching his shoulders, he grew increasingly rigid.
“That
girl’s always late! It’s her last bloody chance!”
He scraped his chubby fingers
over his balding head.
“Complete and utter
disrespect! What does she think I am?”
He paused by a white framed
window and stared out. For a moment, he just shook his head and checked his
watch. I’m sick of it! If she doesn’t get here soon, I’ll have her bloody
killed, that way her work might be worth something!
The agent’s face grew
increasingly crimson, “This is her last bloody chance!” he spat.
CHAPTER 3
In a luxurious hotel,
overlooking Bournemouth’s sandy beaches, Max laid on his king-size bed, smiling
at the naked woman before him. He admired her curves as he traced his finger
across her tanned, lean stomach. She smiled a coy smile, removed his hand from
her hip, and slipped on her black, satin dress. “Time for me to go,” she said.
He sighed, “You don’t really
have to go, do you?”
“You know I do.”
She gazed at him, bent over
and kissed him on the forehead. Max gazed at her breasts and then into her
eyes. She shook her head, turned, and glanced over her shoulder as she walked
towards the door.
He watched the elegant woman
leave the room and adjusted himself. He would never see her again.
“Damn, I have to
call Olivia!”
Max yawned, rolled over and
reached for his mobile. He resented having to call Olivia. She had an exhibition
looming and would be at her wits end. Did he really need to deal with all that
stress? He huffed; what he put himself through just to be with her was
ridiculous. Max smiled wryly; he had his reasons and it was nearly time.
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