Masterpiece

The building was old, gray, and stood high to the sky. This art museum was one of New York’s best and being an art major she thought she would observe some of the best. In all her two years in New York, she’s yet to visit a museum. Some would say her first twenty-two years of life were ordinary and borderline boring. She entered the museum through massive glass double doors, art masterpieces everywhere, wall to wall. She didn’t know where to start. So, she veered on the safe side and picked the most famous piece in front of her. The Mona Lisa. Even more pristine in person she admitted to the masterpiece.

             He was older, 26, well-manicured and established. Already making partners at a major law firm in New York. He was on a mission today to find a masterpiece, one that he may want to purchase for his collection in his home. He walked through the same doors she had walked through but with much more determination. As he walked through the lobby, he too saw wall to wall art, but he was much more nervous than she was. He knew where he wanted to start, he had already found his masterpiece.

             She stood with her shoulders slouched and picking at her fingernails nervously. He was drawn to her, her scent, her aurora. He knew it was her that he came here for. He takes into mind her perfect black dress that cut off right below her knees, form fitting yet classy. One to leave to the imagination, and that’s where he left it. He could see silky blonde, brown hair reaching down the deep of her back. But her face, he couldn’t see her face and it was killing him. He began to freeze up. He knew he had to get to her, he had to talk to her, he had to let her know she was a masterpiece.

             When he walked up slowly near her, she was still staring through the masterpiece as if she were trying to figure out what the artist was feeling during production. He noticed she had the most beautiful profile, a well chiseled chin, well defined cheek bones and plump pink lips to match. She didn’t notice him standing there. Nervousness set in and then he decided to speak. “She’s divine, isn’t she?” She in that moment looked to the side towards him. He met her gaze with a generous smile showing pearly white teeth and kindness you pay for. In that moment, she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the Mona Lisa.

             He was beautiful. He had well-manicured hair, brown hair. He was clean shaven. He had bright blue beautiful eyes that would look at her into her soul. She didn’t know how a stranger could look at her like that, but he did. It was as if he was a treasure hunter who had just found a treasure, he was searching for his entire life. He was wearing a pair of grey slacks clearly dry cleaned, a white button up dress shirt tucked in with a black belt to set it off. He wore a Rolex; I know how much those cost and I would never be able to afford that in my time. He was rich, he did something that made him a lot of money. What would he want with someone like me?

             “Yes, she is divine.” I have always admired the Mona Lisa. I guess I’m with the rest of the art lovers of the world when I say that. “My name is Lance, I couldn’t help but notice that you were over here by yourself, and you seemed very fascinated yet lonely when studying this piece of work, any particular reason why?” She was taken back a bit by his question but then also admired his bluntness when asking questions. “Well to be honest with you I wasn’t going to come into the museum as I terrified of being overwhelmed and not knowing enough for the experience. As far as being lonely, well to be blunt, I am. I have been in this great city for two years now studying to be an art major at NYU. I know no one and I feel like I’m missing my younger years. Sometimes I like to see the art because I feel like some of the artists felt like how I feel being lonely sometimes.”

             He stood and he listened peered right into her dark green eyes, noticing the gold ring that circles around the pupil. Noticed that whenever she speaks, she looks down or she figits with her fingers or does both. She’s been hurt. He can tell, and he wants to be that person that mends all the pain for her. “I’m being rude, my name is Rowan and its very nice to meet you.” It would be nice to say that I have one friend in this big city that’s for sure.” “Well Rowan you have a friend in me, a friend for life, for sure. “I sure do like you Lance; you have kind eyes and a welcoming spirit. Would you like to go to the coffee shop down the street with me so we can get to know each other?” At that moment Lance knew, he knew he had his masterpiece, he just had to make sure he didn’t lose it. “Of course I would love to go have coffee with you, I would have coffee with you any day.”

             They walked side by side down the block passing stores and restraints alike. Finally, they reached the coffee shop that read The Black Bean and they went in. They picked a small table to the back of the coffee shop and sat down. The server came to the table, a young blonde girl, cute and spunky. She immediately stares at Lance and holds her gaze as she asks him what he would like to order. The gentleman that Lance is he states “my lovely friend here would like to order first, go ahead dear tell her what you’d like. She side eyes me and takes my order of a French vanilla Latte. Lance then goes ahead and orders a black coffee.

             Rowan tells Lance how she grew up in Connecticut and decided to come to NYU to pursue an art decree after doing two years at a community college back home. She has always loved art but gets very discouraged because she has no artistic skills, she explains such as drawing and painting. As she talked, he took in everything she would say, he loved to hear her talk, he loved to breathe her in. She was everything he had ever wanted and was missing from his life, and he barely knew her. He felt like the museum had given her to him. He stated he wanted to leave with a masterpiece of his own and so far, he has made it out of the building with her.

             Lance tells Rowan how he was the top of his class in high school, it was expected that he be in the top of his class. After he graduated, he went to school for pre-law and then went to Law school here in NY. After he graduated law school, he was able to make partner fast at a large law firm in NY because his father owned it. He admitted that working for and under his father could be overbearing at times and sometimes he wishes he would’ve picked another career path. He really wanted to be a science teacher but that was not acceptable to his father, so he did what was expected and went to become a lawyer.

             “Lawyers make good money Lance; you must have a wonderful life and be able to do anything you would like to do without worries of money. You’re gorgeous and intelligent and I know you can get any woman you would like just by merely opening your mouth. You are kind, inviting, calming, you are everything.” When she said this, he knew, he knew she was falling for him. Finally. She caught up. He had already fell for her after noticing her black dress with her hair laying across her back, her scent, her aura. All of it. He wanted all of it.” Having money or a prestigious job doesn’t make you necessarily happy Rowan, does it make it easier for life, yes, but I’m just as lonely as you are. But I tell you what, why don’t we go back to the museum, look back at that painting we both couldn’t take our eyes off and decide if we would like this to go any further. What do you think about that?” She was shocked. She didn’t expect him to be so straight forward and want to keep seeing her again. Wait, that was a lie. She knew by the way he looked at her at the museum that he was hers. It was up to her to determine if she wanted him to be hers. And she did. He was the most spectacular human being that she had ever met. They hadn’t even spent that much time together and she felt at home, she felt at peace and warm. She wanted to go back to the Mona Lisa, and she wanted to go home with him.

             They leave the Black Bean coffee shop and head back to the museum. Its chilly outside so Lance takes his blazer off and wraps it around her shoulders. A simple gesture no man had ever done for her before. She does something that she knows she has to do for him to know she is serious; she reaches for his hand. She stumbles and he pulls her close and closes her hand within his. She exhales, he exhales, and they begin to breathe together. As one.

             They reach the museum right before it closes and are told by the security guards, they close in 15 minutes, so they make there way into the museum and through the lobby. Both notice the masterpiece and walk over to it. She faces it first while he is still facing her. “Look, she says, there’s so much happiness and gratitude in this painting now that I’ve never seen before. Love.” As she looks over to him, he leans in and places his hand across her face moving the hair behind her ear and then pulls her in close and tight, then he kisses her. Deeply and passionately. Shocks wave through each other their bodies and she places her hands on each side of his face and kisses him deeper. They come slightly apart and with eyes still closed and foreheads touching they both say at the same time “I love you, my masterpiece.”