Page 33 of Business Casual
I’m better than good.
Nova is flirting back.
8
NOVA
“What do youhave against pumpkins?”
“I’ve got nothing against pumpkins. I just don’t think we should fill the fountain with them.” A pause. “How do you even fill a fountain with pumpkins?”
“You stack them, you idiot. I saw a picture on Pinterest. It looked very artistic.”
“You’re on Pinterest?”
“I like art.”
“What do you know about art? You can barely write your name.”
“Art is in the eye of the beholder. Right, Nova?”
I ignore Gus and Montgomery’s bickering and flip another sheet of paper over in my stack. I decided to print résumés for the receptionist position, because apparently I’m a sadist. I thought it would be easier than a screen, but the giant stack of paper just makes me feel like I’m on a hamster wheel that leads to nowhere while simultaneously destroying a forest of trees. I feel wasteful and I feel like I’m behind on everything.
And still distracted by Charlie. Exceedingly distracted by Charlie, actually, since weunlocked sexy texting. I’ve gotten a string of pictures over the last day and a half. Charlie in a thick white cozy-looking sweater. Charlie with a chocolate hazelnut cupcake halfway into his mouth. Charlie’s boots standing by a pine tree. A ladybug on the tipof his thumb. A close-up of his face, absolutely delighted by the ladybug on the tip of his thumb. A seven-second video of him yelling into the phone about the ladybug on the tip of his thumb. A full body shot of him in front of the bathroom mirror at the farm guesthouse, the top three buttons of his shirt undone, his finger at the buttons the same way mine were in the photo I sent him.
I wanted to see what Charlie might do if I push. I guess now he’s doing the same.
“That’s not true. Some art is crap. I went to an exhibit at the Visionary Art Museum—”
“You what?”
“—and there was a giant pink poodle. A poodle. Made of tulle. I’m pretty sure it had wheels. How is that art?”
Gus gasps like Montgomery just pulled out a knife and stabbed him directly in the heart. “I know you’re not talking about Fifi.”
“Who the hell is Fifi?”
“Fifi is a kinetic sculpture at the Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore,” I offer without looking up. “And I don’t understand what she has to do with pumpkins in the fountain in the middle of the town.”
I’m starting to regret signing up for this committee. At the time, I thought it would be a good way to integrate myself with local businesses. I grew up here, but I want people to see me as more than little Nova Porter, the girl who used to spray-paint the sides of barns in middle school.
I want people to see me as a serious business owner. This might not be my first official studio, but it’s the first one that truly feels like mine. My studio on the coast is part of a co-op with other artists, an open space we all share. I rented my chair in the back corner and worked my client base through the co-op system. This studio is all me. My first actual location.
Ink & Wild in Inglewild. The place I grew up. The tiny, little town that I love with my whole heart.
“I’m talking about art!” Monty shrieks, and I wince. I may lovethis town, but I do not love this committee. I hold a lot of regret in my heart every other Thursday at 6:30 p.m.
I collect my paperwork in a neat stack and set it to the side. In addition to Gus and Montgomery, the harvest festival committee consists of Ms. Beatrice from the café, Stella from the farm, and Alex Alvarez from the bookstore. Ms. Beatrice showed up to the first meeting, listened to Gus and Montgomery bicker for six minutes, gathered her bag, and walked out of the room. She hasn’t been back since.
“Enough about the pumpkins.” It comes out harsher than I intended. Alex glances up from the beaten-up paperback in his lap and pushes his glasses up his nose. Montgomery presses his hand to his chest like I’ve offended him. “We just—we don’t need to worry about art installations right now. Gus, did you get the proper permits from Dane?”
He leans back in his chair and takes a giant bite out of a slice of pizza. It’s deep-dish night at Matty’s, and I can’t believe I have to eat it in the tiny back room of the bookshop with these lizards.
“Permits are distributed by the fire department.”
I try to channel a patient version of myself. “Did you get the proper permits from the fire department?”
Considering he and Monty are two-thirds of the fire department and they’re both on this committee, it shouldn’t have been difficult. Gus holds his hand out to Monty, and they give each other a very aggressive high five.
