Somehow you had managed to get through your week and Friday had finally arrived. Although going to art galleries was not your principal notion of a good time, hanging out with Simon always cheered you up, and at least you’d be off your couch and out of your apartment; free from the thoughts of Jenna that seemed to creep into your mind whenever it was idle for too long.

You dab on a little lip-gloss on as Simon looks at himself in the mirror behind you in the bathroom, adjusting the popped collar of his Lacoste polo. 

“Ready?” he asks impatiently.

“Yea, let’s go.” You grab your bag as you shuffle out the door, and are on your way. 

The drive to the gallery is relaxing, and the windows of Simon’s car are down letting in a warm May breeze that smells like the beach. The voice of Elliott Smith lulls from the speakers and Simon is busy chatting about the show, and the gallery, and the cute gallery director, and you are doing your best to pay attention. You smile in a half-hearted way when he asks you if you’re as excited as he is. You love Simon, but at times his conversations require a little selective hearing, and this is one of those times. 

“Here we are” he announces as you pull into a parking lot adjacent to a modern-ish looking building with a trickle of people entering through large front glass doors. Again you smile, but now you’re just wondering when they’ll start serving the free champagne. Inside, the gallery is lofty, with high ceilings and large skylights. As you enter, you receive a pamphlet detailing the works in the show, the cover being a composite image of Botticelli’s ‘Venus’ holding a rainbow flag. The first room consists of some sculptural and pottery works, all with erogenous connotations, be they phallic, sapphic or otherwise. ‘This should be interesting’ you think to yourself as you leaf through your pamphlet.

“Hey, do you mind if I go check out the west wing first? I heard they have a life-size remodeling of Michaelangelo’s ‘David’ with Jude Law as the model, I’ve been dying to see it.” Simon asks.

“Yea, sure, go for it” you chuckle.

– “You wanna come?”

“No, thanks, I think I’m good on the Jude Law nakedness. I think I’ll just wander” you say, pushing Simon in the direction he’s leaning towards. “Go! Enjoy! I’ll be around.” you encourage. Simon grins and struts off to the west wing as you take a breath, deciding the best way to pass the next hour or so. You decide, for obvious reasons, to start with a room marked “Modern Sapphos”. 

In the room, you encounter a variety of paintings by different artists, from different art genres. You take your time perusing the works, doing your best to employ what little art history knowledge you have acquired from your time spent with Simon.

The largest piece in the room is a canvas with what appears to be a blown-up image of female genitalia, done in bright, vibrant colors, overwhelming in its size and impact. The idea of someone painting this or much less, modeling for it, makes you chuckle under your breath. ‘Art is what you make of it’, that’s what Simon always says, and this appears to be a prime example of when to employ that mantra. You lean down to see the title of the painting. ‘Venus Fly Trap’. This in itself makes you chuckle again, this time out loud, eliciting a sideways glare from an intense, artsy looking woman in all black who is standing next to you.

“You know, this one comes in post-card size, if you’re interested.” A voice behind you says in a whispered tone, their breath tickling the hairs on your neck. You turn around and nearly bump into the young woman standing there. As she steps back, your eyes are immediately drawn to hers, brown and sparkling in the glow of the gallery spotlights. Light also reflects off of her wavy brown hair, and her white teeth that smile widely back at you. “Do you like the painting?” She asks, gesturing to the one now behind you.

“Oh, I umm, it’s well, it’s ok I guess.it’s interesting.” You mentally kick yourself for making your art un-savvyness so blatantly obvious. She just continues to smile back.

“That’s classic Sophia Molino for you, blunt and to the point. We have a few of her works here tonight, have you seen them all?”

“Huh? Oh, I, uh, no, I haven’t.” Your words seem to jumble together and you feel a blush creeping into your cheeks. You wonder why it is that now, of all times, in front of this beautiful woman, you can’t seem to form complete sentences.

“I’ll show them to you if you’d like. I’m Bette Porter by the way, I’m an intern here at the gallery. I helped coordinate this exhibition.” She extends her hand, and as you shake it, all your senses seem rush to your palm, absorbing the feel of her warm smooth skin against yours. The warmth of her grip is immediately transmitted through the rest of your body causing your arms and neck to prickle with goose-bumps, and blood rushes to a few other specific zones of your body. After catching your breath for a moment, you finally manage to coordinate words and introduce yourself. 

“Is this your first time to the gallery?” she asks, as you nod in response. “Well then, let me show you around.” She gestures towards one of the doors leading to another room, and before long you’ve begun your tour of the gallery, with new tour guide, Bette Porter leading the way.

As you meander through the rooms of the gallery, you wonder how you never got into art before this. Bette explains the pieces in a way that illuminates them. Her passion is funneled into her words, and as she tells you about the pieces and the artists, you are no less than captivated. At one point during the tour you see Simon across the room looking at a group of paintings. When he notices you and the beautiful woman accompanying you, he smiles and gives you an exaturated snap gesture, indicating his approval. When Bette turns to you to tell you about another artist, she notices your flushed face and chuckles, touching your arm momentarily and gesturing that you move on. Before long, you’ve seen almost every work in the exhibit, and when looking at your watch realize that you’ve been at the gallery for over two and a half hours. 

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize what time it is. My friend is probably waiting for me, I should go. Bette, thank you so much for showing me around. I.. well, I had a really great time.” You reach out and shake her hand again, not wanting to let go.

“Me too, it was my pleasure.” Bette’s eyes blaze into yours and for a moment she hesitates. “Look, here is the museum’s business card.” Bette reaches into the pocket of her slacks and pulls out a business card. “My number’s on the back. I’d love to hear from you again, you know, if you’re in the area, or if you ummm, you know, just want to get together sometime.” For the first time that night, you catch a slight hint of hesitation in Bette’s voice, and the thought that you might be the cause makes you heart do a slight flip-flop.

“Thank you, I’ll call you.” You take the card, holding it tightly in you hand. “Well, good night.”

“Good night, I hope to hear from you soon.” Bette grins that amazing smile again as you walk away, and your heart palpitates. Simon is waiting for you in the front lobby, and winks as you approach. “Well hello there little miss thang, did you have fun?” He elbows you in the side. You slip Bette’s card into your pocket and laugh at Simon.

“Yea, I did.” And this time you really mean it.