Bette adored the artist’s handiwork. She invested in his other series of arts and it brought her a great chunk of fortune two years ago. Then she ran into the “Secret of Life” and fell in love with them. So it became a portion of her collection.

They walked up the spiral staircase and arrived at the second floor. Leigh Austin’s retro paintings and crystal glass pendants displayed in the spacious hall. Bette explained that she booked a show for the artist which would take place several weeks later. And at the sound of her expectant voice, it must be good investment too.

On the third floor where the employees have their desks, they ran into James who was rushing down to meet the brunette. He handed over some paper work and letters, updating his boss with new info.

“James, meet Tina Kennard.”

The man politely introduced himself to the blonde girl and shook her hand. He seemed to be a harmless young fella, intimidated by Bette but less nervous than most of the people here.

“Alright, we’re going upstairs.” The brunette gestured and went ahead, leaving James to his own office entrance.

“Uh… all the due contracts are on your desk and the estimate for next Shirley Shore bidding, she’s got six new and multiple reproductions of her NYC Street.” James quickly added.

“Already? She’s hell a prolific new media photographer.” Bette was content with the information. “I love Shirley Shore.” She murmured, “maybe I’ll be collecting some editions.”

Tina observed the brief interaction between the two of them. She had not much knowledge about modern art, but she felt so proud, of her girlfriend. Bette looked so confident and happy around her work. She followed her to the main office room.

The room was grand, bright with a giant, clean French casement, light grey colored walls and dark wooden desks, leather sofa and chair, some simple ornaments in the room, art from different artists hanging. An expensive-looking violin harmoniously displayed amongst the arts. It looked not exactly like the one in school, the wood was painted grey, fitting the tune of the room, but the strings and the fiddle were the same silvery. Tina smiled at the instrument. She felt warmness of familiarity coursing through her vessels, having to know how much the brunette loved violin and how much she cared about her by performing for her. A door was on the other side of the room, probably leading to a storage room or a restroom, Tina thought.