Confessions of the Other Woman [First Draft]

Chapter 8

Authors Note: Sorry for the late post. I was having a hard time trying to figure out how I wanted this chapter to go. So, if you have read some of my past work, I have a surprise for you! You'll see an old face, and I'm happy to introduce her here because...well that in itself is a surprise. So enjoy ^.^.

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I pulled into the parking lot of a small building butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. Part of the reason I moved to L.A three years ago was to run away from the hurt and pain. However the other reason, the most important reason was because it was a great career move. In that way I was a little grateful to Quentin for breaking my heart, if he hadn't I probably would have never left. While I was in L.A I had the pleasure of meeting an agent by the name of Brooke Williams. She represented high profile, as well as unknown and up and coming artist. Brooke was damned good at her job too. We kicked it off and hung out and she was always trying to represent me, but I was not ready to leave photojournalism to settle down in fine art.

I stepped out of my car and saw Brooke on her phone standing in front of the building's entrance. Brooke was five-five, with a light caramel complexion and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen on a black woman. Her hair was dyed burgundy and her usual kinky fro was straightened, so that burgundy locks fell just past her shoulders. She wore a high waisted pencil skirt and a cream colored blouse.

I quickly grabbed my camera bag from my passenger seat and made my way up to her just as she was ending the call. I gave her the once over and said, "I feel under-dressed."

"Oh hush." Brooke said before pulling me into a hug, "I just came from a business meeting, had I not been cutting it so close you know I would've worn something more casual."

I laughed at her and said, "Thank you again for letting me do this."

"Now if only I could get you to let me represent you..." Brooke said trailing off.

I laughed again, "When I'm ready to switch over, you will be the first and only person I call."

She opened the door and I followed behind her. It was exactly as I imagined it would be, paintings everywhere. An average sized man sat in front of a large canvas. He ran his hand through his curly black locks and stared at the canvas intently as if he was waiting for a picture to magically appear. His name was Miguel Ramirez and he was one of the best fine art photographer/painter's in the world. I immediately sat my camera bag on the floor, pulling out my canon 5dmiii and turning it on. I quickly fixed my settings and began to work.

Miguel, was an artist I followed through most of college. Some how every painting he did, every photograph he took, he brought to life. The fact that he specifically asked for me to do the feature for him, for the New York times; with Brooke's suggestion, was awesome. Seasoned journalist would kill for that opportunity. As I took pictures of him thinking, of his surroundings he slowly began to pour paint onto his pallet. He then began to work, slowly. The room was silent with the exception of my camera clicking and his paintbrush against the stretched canvas. When he was finished he moved away to show me and I froze. It was a portrait of me. I wasn't even aware of the fact that he had turned to look at me. In fact I'm sure he hadn't. Yet there I was.

"You're amazing." I said before taking a picture of him standing next to the portrait of me.

I began to pack my equipment up and he walked over to me, Brooke in tow with a large smile on her face. "That was like magic, you two should work together again."

Miguel smiled warmly, "You make an excellent model."

"I could say the same for you." I said returning his smile. "It was a pleasure to meet, I really love your work."

"Brooke has shown me some of your work as well..." Miguel started. I shot Brooke a look.

Brooke beamed at me and said, "I had already suggested you, but he still wanted to see portfolios before he made a decision. I always leave the final decision up to the artist."

"Yes, and I can see why she suggested you. You're work is amazing. I'm looking forward to seeing what you do for my article." He then looked at Brooke and said, "It is time for me to head back, I need a nap."

Brooke simply nodded dialed some numbers on her phone and put it to her ear. When the person answered she said, "He's ready pull up to the front now."

She hung up and Miguel was already headed towards the door. "His flight leaves at midnight, and then he's back to L.A. To finish his newest collection."

"I see." I said watching him leave. "You're flying back out too?"

Brooke gave me a devious smile. "No Rich wants me to scout out a few names here, so I'm staying a few more days. We have to have drinks before I leave. Are you free tonight?"

I was about to say yes, but then I remembered about my date with Bryson. Actually hanging out with Brooke seemed like the perfect thing to do. It had to be way more fun than telling Bryson that my crazy ex threatened to beat him up. I let out a sigh, but then again like Tamera said, I needed to leave it up to Bryson to decide if he felt I was worth the drama.

"No I have a date, but we should definitely do something tomorrow."

Brooke raised a brow, "You have a date?"

"Yes..."

The whole time I was in L.A Brooke had been trying to get me to date someone. Or at least sleep with someone, but I always declined to meet any of the men she tried to introduce me to. So of course it had to have been a shock to her that I had finally decided to date anyone.

"Tell me about this date of yours."

I laughed, "How about I tell you about everything tomorrow over drinks."

"I'm going to hold you to that." Brooke gave me another hug. "I'll call you tomorrow love, have fun on your date."

With that she was off. And with my job done it was time to go home and prepare for my date.