Second Chance (36 page)

“Mary, get out here and see this!”

Gray and I exchange glances.

Another woman walks out
, older, probably in her late sixties
,
a veil of
sophistication
suspended in
the air around her
.
S
he’s wearing
a fitted black
blazer
and slacks.
Her thin ha
ir is dyed light blond and there’s so much
hair
-
spray not a single strand moves when she walks
.
My eyes fall to her feet, whic
h are dressed in red moccasins. Her shoes make me smile. I might have a chance.

She grabs my portfolio and I explain my theme again
.
She stares me up and down and sifts through
the photos
in record speed
.
I watch the diamond rings on her fingers sparkle in the light as she flips her wrist
.
Then, something catches her eye and she slows down
.
She goes back over each photo, one by one and
minutes go by without a word
.
I’m sweating
.

“Very creative,” she says and she reaches out her hand and introduces herself as
Mary,
the owner of the gallery
.
Then s
he introduces the woman behind the counter,
Barb
, as her assistant
.

She holds the album against her chest and taps her red fingernails on the leather
.

“These would go great in my office,” she says and Barb nods
.
Mary gives me a
c
ritical stare
.
“How much for the set?”
she asks.

I bite my bottom lip and look at Gray for help
.

Gray
leans
his hand
casually on the counter
and creases his forehead
. “
What was your last offer
?
” he asks
me
.
“I forget.”

A competitive fire
sparks
Mary’s light blue eyes
.
I finally see what sets this woman of
f
.
I’m wondering if
fifty
dollars is too much to ask
.

“I’ll give you
a hundred and fifty
for the set,” she offers.

“
A hundred and fifty dollars
?
”
I say,
shocked.

Barb interjects. “
Mary
,
don’t
take advantage of
the poor girl
.
That’s great work
.
I’ve never seen
anything like it.”

“Fine,”
Mary
says
.
“One seventy-five
.”
 

I’m in over my head and then Gray opens his mouth
.
“
Didn’t someone offer you
two hundred
?
” he
asks me
.

I stare back
at Mary and try to look modest.

She narrows her eyes but I se
e determination behind them
.
“How many photos are in here?”

“
Eighteen
,” I say
.

“Fine,
two-fifty
.”
 

Two hundred and fifty
dollars!
?
I don’t know where I get the nerve to do this
,
but I raise the stakes
.

“With one more agreement,
”
I say.

“What’s that?”

“Let me show some of my photos here
.
I’d like some wall space, please,” I say
.

Mary and Barb exchange glances and Barbs asks if I do portraits.

      
I shake my head
.
“I’m not a fan of posed pictures,” I say
.
“I like catching people when they’re being natural
.
When they don’t expect it
.
Portraits are too forced
.
It isn’t authentic to me.”

“So what do you prefer to do?” Mary asks and she seems intrigued.

“Anything
.
People
.
Animals
.
Landscapes
.
Architecture
.
”
I tell them about one of my favorite
series
I did
recently
.
It’s
a set
where I’ve taken pictures of people
either
caught in genuine laughter
, or frozen in pouts
.
I tell them it’s a mix of all ages
.
I explain
my favorite picture
, taken of a
boy I caught sitting in the back of a truck and—

“Give her some space,
”
Mary
decides
.

Barb
g
lances through her desk calendar
.
“
In
six
weeks
I can fit you in.”

“
G
ive her fifteen spaces for the set she just described
.
There’s wall space in the back showroom
.
We’ll squeeze her in
now
.” 

“Fine,” Barb says
.
“I can fit you
in for
our show next
Friday,” she says
.
“Come three days in advance with
fifteen
of your best shots, all eight by eleven
.
Keep it to all color or all black and w
hite
.
We
take
thirty-five
percent of the sales.”
She hands me a sheet with the terms
, pricing
and selling conditions and tell
s me to read it over and sign it
when I come back.

“That’s it?” I say
.

Gray senses my question and steps in
.
“Can
you explain how your shows run
?
Every gallery’s a little different.” 
Mary explains they
have two Friday nigh
t showings
a month with
drinks and appetizers
.

“Come
the opening night of your show and be ready to market yourself
,” she tells me. “
Work the room
.
It’s a big deal when the artist takes the time to show up
.
People love havi
ng a face to go with
the art they buy. I
t gives
them
more to talk about when they show it off.
”

“And you’re gorgeous,”
Barb
says
.
I feel my face redden at the compliment
.
“So get your face in the crowd
.
I think you’re the youngest photographer we’ve ever
had
.” 

“But I’d wear something more presentable,”
Mary
offers as she looks at my jeans and dirty flip flops
.
“A skirt will be fine
.
And some heels.” 

Gray nods
.
“Definitely a skirt,” he says.

I try not to wince
.
I have to go clothes shopping?

“I assume you’ll accept cash for these?” Mary asks
.
She taps the portfolio in her hand
.

“Cash works just fine,” I tell her
.

She coordinates a time for me to drop off th
e pictures and Gray is writing
down all the details because I’ve lost all cognitive
skills
.
My mind is floating in a dream
-fog
.