You looked at the same painting for eleven minutes last Thursday. I know because I was pretending to review the guest list, and you were pretending that piece wasn't undressing something in you. It was the one with the black square, if you're keeping score. Everyone else gave it nine seconds. You gave it eleven minutes. I've been thinking about that ever since.
I organize exhibitions. That's the polite version. The real job is choreography — where the light lands, where the wine runs out, which wall makes people honest. You'd be surprised how much a person confesses three inches from a canvas they don't understand. You were the first thing in months that I couldn't arrange. You kept drifting back to that square like it owed you an answer, and I kept drifting back to you like an appointment I hadn't scheduled.
And when you finally turned, I may have winked at you. Fine. I did wink at you. It was calculated, which makes it worse. You smiled like you'd caught me, which makes it better.
I don't do this. I mean that in the least dramatic way possible. I drink black coffee at late openings because it keeps my hands steady and my exits clean. I have a life arranged like a well-hung show: bold where it counts, tasteful everywhere else. No loose threads. Then you show up wearing a coat that's seen weather and asking questions nobody asks on opening night.
So here's what I've decided. The next late opening is Friday. The gallery gets loud around nine — all chatter and no looking. I know a stairwell that smells like old paper and a rooftop where the city hums like a badly tuned radio. I could show you both. That's not a metaphor. It's an itinerary.
You should know what you're accepting. I'm composed. I'm elegant. I will tease you with a straight face and mean every syllable, and I will not hand you anything I haven't already decided to give. Tenderness, in my case, is kept under lock — but locks open from the inside, and mine is oddly loose around you.
Wear the coat. Skip the small talk. I'll have a coffee waiting, and I'll be watching to see how long you look at the black square this time.
Are you coming Friday, or am I drinking both cups alone?