“40 PERCENT?!!”

Alexandra’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the sudden outburst of the female seated across from her. In the corner of the office, Loki too, rose his head, startled awake from his nap. Well, not for long, anyway.

Artists, Alexandra mentally sighed, while plastering a polite smile on her lips in response. “Of course, if a cut of the selling price doesn’t suit your needs, there is always the option of paying a membership fee to the gallery-“

“No, no, no.” A jewelry adorned finger waved through the air, accompanied by the shaking of blonde locks from side to side several times. Alexandra managed to retain a groan, just as it formed in the back of her throat. She hated being interrupted. “You don’t understand.” The finger was pointing at her now, accompanied by pursed lips and the lingering feeling of superiority.

“Oh?” Alexandra questioned, her eyebrows moving slightly higher on her forehead.

“My work will bring people here.” The finger was now tapping on her desk with determination. Alexandra was more fascinated by the damn finger than the woman controlling it. “I’m doing you a favor by exhibiting my work here.” The finger suddenly disappeared, as the woman folded her arms. And with it, so did Alexandra’s patience.

The woman was a good artist. Just not that good.

“I’m sure you are.” She replied in the most polite voice she could muster up. She looked at her watch. “I will think about it, Miss Tanner.” Her next appointment was due in thirty minutes. “Unfortunately, my next appointment will be here any minute now.” She shrugged apologetically, pushing herself off the chair and onto her feet. “I’m afraid I have to cut this meeting short.” Smile.

Miss Tanner huffed, not pleased. She got up from the chair, picking up her belongings – portfolio and purse- as she did. “I would hurry if I were you.” She commented, tucking the leather-covered case under her arm. I already have a few offers on the table.” Alexandra simply nodded, and picked up her keys. “I’m a highly sought-after artist.” And Alexandra wasn’t as desperate as she thought she was.

Inhale. “I’m sure you are.” Alexandra repeated, kindly gesturing toward the door.

Beggars can’t be choosers, they said. Apparently, they were wrong.

She led Miss Tanner out of the office and back into the gallery, wishing she could just teleport across. The gallery space was still a mess – wires were poking out from the walls, lighting fixtures were missing, portions of the wall still needed painting, ladders, buckets of paint and various accessories were laying around. On top of that, Alexandra barely had any artists whose work to hang around.

Two weeks. I have two more weeks, she reminded herself as she reached the door, pulling herself from her thoughts to unlock the door and say proper goodbyes.

Alex conjured up a smile, as she pulled the door wide open. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Tanner.” She said, extending a hand. Miss Tanner shook it briefly, nodding a “Mhmm.” in response.

“Just remember. Tick-tock.” She added, halfway through the door, tapping a non-existent watch on her wrist. And then she was gone.

A long exhale followed. Good riddance.

Finally letting the politeness melt away, she pushed the door closed and turned around, her eyes falling onto the gallery logo, beautifully written in cursive on the reception desk.

Elysium. Alexandra took another deep breath. This gallery was so far from being Elysium right now. Still, there was no turning back now. Pushing her worries aside for the moment, she decided to linger around - maybe even make some much needed phone calls - until her next appointment arrived. 

Sarah’s advice for Nate to put himself out there creatively was well-intentioned, but Nate was not the optimist his girlfriend was. Yes, in a way, he had nothing to lose by throwing his art out into the world, but that was the kind of thinking of a man who knew his odds. The world of art was competitive for names that were not established, and while Nate was not modest about his talents, he knew he was starting with a hefty handicap.

Most artists were not dealing with the stigma of being a former criminal who specialized in (among other things) art forgery and art theft. Part of Nate’s parole agreement made it a requirement that his identity, aliases, and photo were communicated to all museums and art galleries in New York. With his travel restrictions, that meant every member of the city’s art community could blacklist him from their location, and most of them did with gusto.

That was why it was so surprising when Nate checked his voicemails after a day of classes and found one Alexandra Dimitri reaching out to him, asking if he could bring his portfolio to her office later that week. At the end of the call, he could not help but clarify who he was, stating his name again to make sure she was not making some mistake. Sure, this could have been some twisted prank, but the thought of getting a foot into the art scene legitimately was too tempting not to take the chance.

And so there he was, waiting for his meeting with the curator of a new gallery in the city. Doing work on behalf of Haven had shored up his wardrobe, and while it was nowhere near the collection he assembled as a conman, it was nice to have a closet of well-tailored suits again. Some artists would not corrupt their “artistic integrity” by wearing something so business-like, but the art world was full of different styles, after all. At his core, Nate was a professional.

“40 PERCENT?!!”

Professionalism sounded like it might be at a premium today, he thought with a smirk as a boisterous woman could be heard through the door. Nate had arrived to the gallery early; he wanted to be punctual, and part of him just wanted to be in an art gallery. Since the day he found his way into checking out Sarah’s exhibit, he had not gone within ten yards of a house of art. The place was still clearly in development, but Nate could see the vision slowly taking shape. Despite the work it needed, it was a good space—it just needed art. Hopefully he could help on that front.

Two women walked out of the office, right past Nate, who had been off to the side picturing how he would arrange his paintings on a nearby wall. The younger, dark haired woman was clearly the curator he was scheduled to meet, and the more… indignant woman was recognizable as Diana Tanner, (pronounced Dee-ah-nuh, because pretentiousness was all about branding.) Nate had never met her in person, but stories in the art community traveled, and even an ex-con stayed as current as he could.

Alexandra walked Miss Tanner through the door, and immediately Nate could see her body language relax as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He fought the urge to chuckle, but walked toward the curator, finally making his presence known. ”You know, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Diana Tanner in person. Seems like a real gem,” he joked. So maybe it was not the most professional comment, but given what Alexandra had just dealt with, he could only assume she might appreciate his sarcastic brand of empathy.

”Nate Holloway,” he said, offering his hand along with the greeting. ”My apologies, I know I’m early, I just wanted to get a feel for this place.”

It appeared that she wouldn’t make any calls just yet.

”You know, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Diana Tanner in person. Seems like a real gem,”

Startled, Alexandra turned around as soon as the male’s voice reached her ears, her body tensed, her heart skipping several beats. Immersed in the sea of thoughts and worries, with whatever attention span she had left being focused on sending Miss Tanner on her merry way, she had become completely oblivious to her surroundings. She mentally admonished herself as soon as his words wrapped around her startled mind, for both her lack of attention and being so quickly alarmed. He was only her next appointment, after all. Her body soon relaxed – her heart rate slowed down to a normal rhythm, the tension in her muscles began to melt away as the sudden surge of adrenaline wore away. Exhaling slowly, she regained her composure and even allowed herself to chuckle in response to his comment. “You have no idea what you’ve been missing out.” She replied, making no effort to hide the hint of sarcasm in her voice.

”Nate Holloway,”… ”My apologies, I know I’m early, I just wanted to get a feel for this place.”

Ah yes. Nate Holloway. The artist that came with a warning. A FBI issued warning, that is. He had seemed unconvinced of her intentions during their call. Then again, he didn’t know just how difficult it was for the new curator in town to find good artists that weren’t already signed or simply not too crazy. And nor would he find out.  She quickly scanned Nate  – at this point of the day, the lack of fingers pointed in her direction was good enough in her book but she was pleasantly surprised by the professional attire – she had had just about enough of pastel colors and flowery prints.

Alexandra extended her hand. “Alexandra Dimitri, pleased to meet you.” The corners of her lips turned up into a welcoming smile. “No problem.” She assured him, in regards to being early – she wasn’t exactly in the mood for making any phone calls to berate the renovation company for missing their deadlines (again!). “So what did this place tell you?” she questioned, her eyes wandering around the space for a few seconds. She paused briefly, before she looked back at Nate. “Well, besides the obvious mess that is around.” She added, the tone of her voice a perfectly balanced mix of disdain and amusement.

Nate’s sarcasm was thankfully appreciated, meaning his gamble on Alexandra’s sense of humor was well-wagered. Plenty of curators in New York were humorless businesspeople, but this was a good sign that Alexandra might have a personality to her name, putting her leagues ahead of the others. (Not that he was in the position to be picky, of course.) He was quietly thankful that the appointment before him was not with a more amicable artist.

He readjusted his glasses, looking over the woman who invited him to meet with her. Nate was the type to do his homework, and Alexandra had a reputation as a rising star in the art world. She had only been on the scene a few years, but she gained popularity as an artist in her own right, showcased her artistic eye as a consultant, and now she was looking to put her refined taste to use with her own gallery. It was ambitious, but ambition was a luxury of the talented, and she certainly fell in that category.

Alexandra offered her hand in greeting and Nate replied with a friendly shake. She was curious about his first impressions of her gallery in progress, well aware that her space was still a ways away from being put together. ”Well, I would probably hold off on schedule the grand opening just yet,” he joked, acknowledging the construction still required to get the space ready for business, ”But I like this space you chose. It encourages the eye to wander and find new pieces, and it has places to really showcase some marquee works.” There was still plenty of work to do and plenty of ways to squander the place, but Alexandra had vision if the rumors were to be believed, so he had faith.

”So,” he began, not afraid to address the elephant in the room, ”nice to see someone feeling more curious than cautious.” There were reasons for his apparent exile from the art world. The obvious worry was that Nate might not be as reformed as he claimed and could use a gallery as his hunting grounds. A pettier concern was that other artists might mistrust a gallery that would willingly host a man with his record. Ignoring this would do him no favors, and he was not going to let it be something Alexandra could silently hold over his head in any negotiations.

While Nate gave his opinion on the gallery, Alexandra found herself suppressing a groan. Way too late for her not to schedule the grand opening. Oh, poor Jerry of the renovating company, he was in real trouble now. “Yeah.” She muttered, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear to mask her nervousness. “Might be a little too late for that.” Two weeks. Two more weeks, she had. Quite enough to make Jerry regret the day he heard the name Alexandra Dimitri, if the damned renovation wasn’t done in time. “The gallery opens in two weeks.” The brunette explained with a small shrug, summoning every ounce of confidence inside her to make that statement. No need for her potential artists to be concerned about logistics.

“So,”…”nice to see someone feeling more curious than cautious.”

Ah, so Nate Halloway was a brave man. Alexandra did admire the straight to the point approach. She smirked, slightly tilting her head to the side. “I take calculated risks, Mr. Holloway.” It wasn’t like she didn’t know what she was getting herself into; then again, if something happened, she knew who to look for. Still, for a man with such impressive rap sheet, she certainly hoped he would be smarter than use her gallery as hunting grounds when she was well aware of his past. There was also the problem of bad publicity but in her book, bad publicity was just publicity. Free publicity, as a matter of fact. Evan Spiegel had done it with Snapchat just recently and the company’s shares climbed higher and higher every day after the initial backlash.

Still, Alexandra felt like they should be seated in order to carry on with this conversation. “Should we move this discussion to the office?” she asked, raising her hand in to the air to gesture toward the other end of the gallery, where the office was located. Then she remembered Loki, dozing off onto a makeshift bed in one corner. “My dog is in the office; I hope you won’t mind?” Miss Tanner had wiggled her nose at the fact so Alexandra felt like it was polite to ask. It also served as a good way to shift the focus of the conversation, for now. “Apparently you need to schedule a dog sitter.” She shook her head. “Everything in New York needs to be scheduled, apparently.” She commented with a chuckle. Moscow wasn’t that busy. “I need to get myself accustomed to that.”

Nate was making a light-hearted joke about the condition of the gallery and its impending grand opening, but he was genuinely surprised to hear Elysium would be unveiled to the public in two weeks. He was sure the gallery could be ready in two weeks… probably… if they really buckled down and got the renovations handled. Still, Alexandra had vision, they said, and he was sure she could see the gallery completed when she looked out from her office. If he was in her shoes, Nate was sure he would sit there and just picture this brainchild in his head, so he was sure no one was more ready to get the gallery ready for opening than she was.

It was a risk bringing up his own past, but like Alexandra, Nate Halloway was also one to take calculated risks. It was going to come up anyway, and with the elephant in the room acknowledged, they were on the closest thing to even footing Nate could manage. For all his words and his confidence, he was an artist and an ex-con, and Alexandra held the money, the reputation, and the gallery, putting most of the power in her court. Unlike the recently departed Miss Tanner, Nate was willing to accept that and negotiate for what was reasonable. He knew his worth, even with the demerits connected to his name.

Alexandra invited him to the office to continue what was eventually going to have to be a business meeting, and Nate nodded, obliging her. He could do business meetings, even if they reminded him of how fake and clinical the world of business was. Obviously, part of what had been fake was always him, usually in an office under a false name, commencing with equally insincere niceties. Still, this was art business, and he hoped that would be an interaction where he could be himself.

Doing what she evidently could to remind him that their meeting would not be clinical and dull, Alexandra warned her guest that their meeting would have a dog sitting in as an observer. ”That will not be a problem at all; I love dogs,” he assured her. Had he not been convinced Parker would eat a dog if he brought one home, he would have loved to adopt one himself. ”I have a…” he paused, deciding to shy away from the phrase “cat-sized spider” for this first-time interaction, ”pet that can be a handful, so finding someone to attend to him can be a task.” Even Sarah was not overly thrilled at the idea of pet-sitting, which was why Nate was lucky Parker was smart enough to take care of himself most of the time.

”I still feel like I’m adjusting to the New York way of life,” he admitted. After his childhood, he spent little time making return trips to his old home, but he considered himself a Southerner at his core. ”I’ll admit, I used to be all schedules and plans and timelines, but that was only when I was working. It feels like everything up here is on the clock and past due.” Obviously, he would not have been a particularly good thief if he could not manage a schedule, but that did not make regimented timelines his default state.

Nate followed her into her office, but before he moved toward the chairs and desk, he took a few steps toward the dog curled up in the corner of the room. ”Is he or she receptive to petting or would that be a great way to lose a hand?” He felt it only appropriate to give some affection to the dog in the room as a greeting before getting down to business, but he wanted to make sure he would have the blessing of the dog and its owner first.

Nate’s answers made Alexandra feel more relaxed – the meeting was already going better than her previous one, even with Nate’s reputation in the art world looming nearby. Diana Tanner was really a gem if she’d managed to make Elysium’s curator prefer talking about theft and forgery over dealing one more second with her and the sizeable stick stuck up her … oh well.

She smiled a sympathetic smile as he spoke about his own pet – while Loki was relatively easy to deal with when he had a human’s attention at his beck and call, he didn’t handle too well being left alone for long periods of time. Couch pillows and curtains suffered most at the paws of the vengeful pug.

Seeing as Nate agreed to take the meeting to the office, she began to walk toward it at a relaxed pace, guiding Nate while he spoke. She nodded in agreement – things felt rushed in New York, everybody was in a hurry, everybody was stressed about something, herself included. “So it doesn’t get easier, huh?” she joked, looking over to the man. Adapt to survive wasn’t something that only applied to the jungle.

Loki looked up curiously as they entered the office; he remained seated on his makeshift bed, but his short, curly tail wiggled joyfully behind him, waiting to see if the humans paid him any attention. Nate did, moving toward him, stopping to ask for permission. While Loki’s tail moved faster at the prospect of petting, Alexandra couldn’t help but chuckle at his question. “Oh, I believe your hand is quite safe.” She replied, keeping her lips curled up into a smile as she moved her attention to Loki, then back. “Loki loves every bit of attention he can get.” She added, nodding slightly to suggest that Nate had both Loki’s and his owner’s permission to do as he pleased.

She watched over the two, patiently waiting for Nate to finish greeting Loki before she moved over to the desk; As professional courtesy demanded, she waited for him to be seated before she let herself slid into her own chair. Yeah, the meeting was certainly better than the previous. Now, if only the rest would go just as smooth…

"So, Mr. Holloway. Let's talk art."

Nate had to give the enterprising curator credit; establishing one’s self in any business world was difficult enough without doing it in the center of the universe. ”’Fraid not, but I’m sure you’ll get by.”

Loki confirmed what his owner claimed, looking up at the offered hand with anticipation, wagging a curly tail in approval. Over the years, Nate had finally started working on his inherent distrust of people, but dogs were different. Who could be suspicious of a dog? He pet the dog’s back and the top of his head, and the entire time Loki was happily wagging his tail, leaning into the affection.

Now that the prerequisite meeting with the occupant of the office, Nate turned and joined Alexandra at her desk, taking a seat across from her. They had business to get to, of course; with an impending gallery opening, she needed to fill some walls, and he needed to earn a spot on them.

She opened the door for art talk, and Nate opened his portfolio, which contained copies of some of the paintings he had recently worked on. Now that he had his hand in Haven, he had less free time than when he got out of prison. At that point, he was doing little besides teaching, and had an abundance of free time to work through things with art. With a more regimented, full schedule, those windows were smaller, but that did not mean he would stop creating.

The art was split between his traditional realistic style and a more vivid, color saturated style. There were various subjects, from scenes sliced from the city streets to individuals to a particularly notable one of Parker. In the painting, it looked like a lazy Sunday in an apartment, with a pet curled up lazily on the couch. The only issue was the pet was, in fact, a giant spider. To anyone who was unaware of Nate’s pet, they would assume this was done to add an unexpected surreal aspect to the piece. In truth, Parker was just being a lazy lump that day and it worked for the tone of the painting, so Nate left him in.

”I wanted to bring a sampling, but I am malleable. I’ve had to learn to flex my style over the years to accommodate different influences,” so he could forge them, he left out. ”Never been partial to abstract art,” which he found pretentious, he also left out, ”but for just about anything else, I think my work could fill the roll.” He watched as she looked over his art, confident in the work itself, but wondering how much she was going to use his reputation to her advantage in negotiations.

And art they would talk.

Nate opened up his portfolio; Alexandra reached across the desk, sliding it towards her to see better. She too, moved, leaning forward as she perused through the pictures. Nate Holloway was good. Good enough for her to be impressed, good enough to take the risk and represent him. A small smile appeared on her lips as she reached the painting of a common enough apartment, basked in the sunlight, a giant spider curled up on the couch. It kind of reminded her of Loki and the weekend days they spent together. She could imagine herself next to the window, with an easel in front of her, with paint covered fingers and Loki’s familiar snoring providing background noise.

Alexandra enjoyed that. The art the viewer could transpose into, feel like a part of it. The feeling lingered as she browsed through slices of city life or individuals captured in various scenes, emotions captured on their features with just the right stroke of a brush. She didn’t hide the fact that she was pleased with what she saw.

”I wanted to bring a sampling, but I am malleable. I’ve had to learn to flex my style over the years to accommodate different influences,”

The brunette looked up briefly, her lips turning into a smirk. She pretty much guessed that accommodating different influences would be something Nate would excel at. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a very good forger and rumors and research had it that he was another thing he exceled at. Other than the smirk, she kept her amusement and her thoughts to herself.

”Never been partial to abstract art, but for just about anything else, I think my work could fill the roll.”

Alex only nodded briefly in response, her smirk fading, her eyes returning to the pictures – she was going through the last two pages of the portfolio. A few seconds passed, as she turned the last page; she left the portfolio open on her desk as she leaned back into her chair, her eyes searching for Nate’s.

“These-” her eyes shifted briefly to indicate the open portfolio “are very good.” She didn’t insist on the matter, she didn’t gush over them, as she was never the one to flatter or overuse words, especially not in business meetings. But she was impressed by the art. Combined with the fact that Nate was a pleasing human being, unlike some other stuck up artists, she had already decided to put his work in the gallery – if they also reached an agreement when it came to discussing financial matters and other contract stipulations.

“As for styles… being an artist myself, I would feel like a hypocrite to ask a fellow artist to paint in just a particular style. The muse comes and goes, for any style.” Alexandra continued shortly after verbalizing her appreciation. At the last sentence, she smiled, shrugging slightly, the tone of her voice implying that she spoke from experience. She had a half-finished abstract painting in the works for weeks now and she wasn’t partial to abstract as a whole.

“I want every piece of art in this gallery to pull in the viewer. My artists could paint an abstract spaceship, if it’s engaging enough, I’m happy. And I can view myself in these.” She tapped her finger lightly on the last piece displayed in the portfolio. “Even in the spider one. Granted, it would be Loki snoring on the couch.” She added with a chuckle. “As long as you can see yourself in these, it doesn’t matter for me which style you paint in.” she concluded with a small tilt of her head as her eyes moved to the picture displayed. It was another slice of life in the city. The styles varied, the saturations of colors varied, the intensity of the brush strokes varied but somehow, his choice of subject – everyday life, individuals in a wide range of human emotions made her think that unconsciously Nate was expressing his wish for normalcy. With his tumultuous history, she couldn’t exactly blame him, if her guess was right.

Alexandra looked back to him, a small smile forming on her lips. “I have a feeling you won’t be having trouble with that. You seem like someone who longs for the normal.” She spoke the last words relaxed, in a non-threatening manner. It was a subtle invite to talk about his reputation and any concerns he had on how that might affect potential business between the two, if he wished to do so.

Nate watched on as his work was assessed by his potential curator. It was a process that could be stressful depending on who he was sitting across from. There were people who would look over his art, stone-faced, trying not to give away their first impression at a glance.

Alexandra, to her credit, was openly expressive, showing appreciation for his work. The curator was not afraid to let him into her process, and even smirked at his claims of flexibility. She was a smart woman; she knew exactly what Nate did with “different influences,” and she was willing to be amused by his criminal past. In a way, they were both feeling out their potential business partners, and early impressions were looking positive on all ends.

With the portfolio still left open before them, Alexandra let him know she saw the value in his work, this time verbally. Nate had to fight the overconfident urge to reply with, “I know.”

It was comforting talking to another artist. Not all curators worked in their own field, relying on a decent eye for art and some business savvy. Alexandra understood the craft as well as the crafters, and it made her the type of person Nate knew he wanted to work with.

Elysium would be a gallery that valued engagement and immersion over flashiness and set styles, which sounded like the kind of playground made for Nate. After prison, he would be the first to admit he was becoming enamored with capturing slices of life and the way each person was a major part of their own story amidst a world that dwarfed them. There was more to Nate’s repertoire, but as Alexandra said, muse comes and goes. The key was to follow where it led.

The painting of Parker was pointed out, and Nate could not resist making a comment. ”You have no clue how rare it is that he sits still long enough for a painting like this.” She might dismiss the statement as a joke, and it would be hard to blame her; it was a much more logical explanation than believing Nate owned a giant spider house pet.

In the end, Alexandra was willing to bring Nate in as one of her artists, and it sounded like she thought she had him pegged. Truthfully, she hit the nail on the head: with newfound freedom and a newer-found daughter, Nate was ready to move as close to normal as he could manage. ”Well, I think we’re on the same page, Miss Dimitri. I suppose that leaves us talking about business, correct?” Nate spent plenty of time talking business for Haven, but that did not mean he liked to mix his art with business. ”I believe I heard someone shouting manically about forty percent earlier?”

Alexandra did consider Nate’s comment about the spider a joke. It seemed much more plausible than someone owning a giant spider as a pet and letting it nap on the couch. She and any type of arachnoid didn’t mix well so she preferred to believe that the spider was a product of Nate’s imagination. Still, she laughed at the comment, looking briefly behind Nate at Loki. The trickster was sitting undisturbed on his pillow, blinking slowly and having difficulties keeping awake. Nothing new there.

”Well, I think we’re on the same page, Miss Dimitri.”

Her gaze shifted back to him and she nodded softly in agreement.

”I suppose that leaves us talking about business, correct?”

Again, Alexandra nodded. “Indeed.” It was time for the hardest part of the meeting – talking about the contract. That’s where the discussion usually went downhill – it was incredible how many artists were under the impression that their name had the same resonance as Picasso, Van Gogh, Rembrandt or da Vinci. Alexandra Dimitri wasn’t one that couldn’t appreciate the value of a painting – she knew very well how much work went in some of them but rent and bills didn’t pay themselves nor did she feed herself on the artists’ reputation. Still, she didn’t feel like bracing herself as she and Nate neared that part of the conversation.

”I believe I heard someone shouting manically about forty percent earlier?”

Underneath the desk, Alexandra shifted her legs, folding them one over the other and laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole neighborhood heard my offer for Miss Tanner.” she joked, leaning away from her chair, resting her elbows on the desk. “Joke aside, yes, forty percent of the selling price is the gallery’s starting fee. In time, it can drop, depending on the popularity of the art and how well it sells. There’s also the possibility of a monthly membership fee paid to the gallery for the duration of the contract. The selling fee in that case varies from zero to ten percent, depending on the type of membership the artist purchased.” she smiled as she finished, tilting her head to the side and decided to be blunt. “In your case, I wouldn’t recommend the second option.”

Alexandra paused briefly and straightened her neck while scanning Nate’s features for a reaction to her words. She believed that they were both aware of the fact that Elysium might not be able to sell Nate’s art. While hoping that this wasn’t the case, the possibility had to be taken into consideration.

“There’s also an exclusivity clause for the duration of the contract, which is a minimum of two years in the case of emerging artists.” she paused again, looking down at Nate’s still open portfolio for a brief moment, then back at him. She was aware that Nate wasn’t exactly an emerging artist – he was well known in the art community but it would take time and effort to rebuild his reputation and start selling his art. If she offered him the deal for the already established artists – a year, the contract - and with it the exclusivity clause - would expire before the gallery could reap any benefits. After all, there was no guarantee that Nate would renew the contract.

Alexandra inhaled deeply before she spoke again. “Of course, I’ll give you a draft of the contract to study before signing but these are the non-negotiable terms of the offer. Anything else in the contract is up for discussion.” she concluded with a smile – her own way of saying that she was offering him a fair deal, all things considered.

Alexandra kept quiet about Parker, which Nate knew meant she did not believe him. He would not press the matter; he was all too aware how much it sounded like a joke to talk about a giant mutant spider curling up on his couch. Unless she planned to stop by his apartment to check on new pieces, the odds of Alexandra and Parker crossing paths was not a concern. If that situation ever came up, then he would find it pertinent to warn Alexandra about his affectionate fuzzy companion.

They broke into the business end of their meeting with a shared laugh at Miss Tanner’s expense, which seemed appropriate. That woman, for all her ego and delusions of grandeur, was turning out to be an excellent ice breaker. Alexandra was able to casually transition into the deals they could strike to divvy up profits from his work.

There were two choices, but she made it clear which made the most sense for his situation. Who was he to argue when she was right? Nate was a gamble, not just for her, but for himself. Forty percent meant he would come in with low risk on his part, and the potential for high reward went to Alexandra. A membership meant he would be paying to put up art they had no guarantee of selling. ”You sure know how to build up a man’s confidence,” he joked, smirking, but quickly adding, ”But yeah, I get it.” She was putting them both in the best position to succeed.

It was all Nate could do to keep a straight face when Alexandra mentioned exclusivity. Because art galleries were chomping at the bit to bring him into the fold. He would sign the clause gladly, because Alexandra deserved two years of his time for calling him in at all. It would have been quicker and without risk to pass over his phone number and deal with the next Miss Tanner on her schedule.

It was a fair deal, all things considered. Nate was no fool, and he was in no position to play hardball. ”Well, sounds like you’ve got me right where you want me. It all sounds fair to me. The forty percent, the two years. I’m in.” It was still an odd sensation, making commitments. This really was a new life.

”I’ll obviously have to look over the details of the contract once you have it drafted up. I’m currently transitioning from one living situation to another,” he warned. He was still living at the Mansion, but soon enough, Devon was arranging for him to be “released to the custody of Haven,” so to speak. ”If you can just send a copy of the contract to the school I’m working at, I’ll read it over and make sure you’re not sneaking anything by me in the fine print.” He added a wink, because he honestly had faith Alexandra was not looking to screw him out of a fair deal. She was pragmatic, but she also wanted to have a gallery of her own. This was all just another step on the road to that goal.

Nate’s comment about building up his confidence was met with a light chuckle. Alexandra did appreciate the fact that they could talk business and still be lighthearted about it – the fact that Nate’s special circumstances were hardly something one would joke about made her appreciate the meeting, and him, even more.

As soon as the man sitting in front of her announced that he agreed to her non-negotiable clauses, Alexandra let her self relax. Strangely, she hadn’t even noticed when she had begun to tense up but it didn’t come as a surprise either; she tended to stress herself over negotiations, regardless of their difficulty. Unfolding her legs under the table, she shifted her position on the chair, straightening her back.

She didn’t laugh at Nate’s last comment – instead she pursed her lips, slightly shaking her head from side to side and let out an exaggerated sigh. “It’s going to take a while then.” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “You know, until I edit out all the sneaky fine print.” She kept her serious look for a second longer, before she the straight line of her lips turned into a mischievous smirk.

Joke aside, she reached for a pen and and a sticky note. “So, you teach, huh?” she questioned, raising her eyes briefly from the paper as she scribbled down his name. “Art school…?” It was more of a guess rather than a question – the tip of the pen rested on the piece of paper as brown eyes shifted back to him. “I’ll need an address. Or the name of the school.”

Things between Alexandra and Nate were off to a flying start, as far as business ventures went, with the two enjoying some honest, humorous conversation. Nate was not expecting friendship, given the nature of their new relationship, but it was nice to be working with someone who he was on the same page with from the onset.

There was nothing more disheartening than the moment where you crossed a previously undiscovered line. Nate’s joke about “the fine print” missed the mark, and Alexandra’s tone and expression became more closed off. Did he offend her? It was clearly not his intent, and was nowhere near as bad as some of the thing he said about Miss Tanner. He knitted his brow in concern.

And then she smirked. Of course; she was messing with him. He breathed a sigh of relief, shaking his head at her act. They were going to get along just fine, provided she kept the faux offense to a minimum.

As she took information down on where to send any important documents, Alexandra inquired curiously as to where Nate was teaching. He chuckled at the idea of teaching in art school. Yes, he was probably qualified, but a man banned from most art venues would have a hard time convincing a school devoted to art that he was on the up and up. ”Nothing so official. I’ve been teaching the kids at the Xavier’s Sister School.” He almost added “Mutant Manor,” but he thought it best to keep the nickname to himself, in case Alexandra was unaware of the student base at the school. ”I have another, more corporate job, but the Mansion will be the best place to send it along.”

Xavier’s? Alexandra’s eyebrows went up with surprise for a moment. Talk about a small world – she mused, recalling the encounter with Xavia. During their talk she’d quickly learned that the plant manipulator also taught there, although they didn’t expand enough on the matter to learn which subject. The current train of thought led to the next logical question – was Nate also a mutant? Not that it would change her opinion on Nate or their business deals. She had no quarrel with mutants – or humans, alike – if they didn’t cause her troubles.

“That’s interesting.” She commented while scribbling down Xavier’s next to Nate’s name; more out of habit rather than needing the post it to remember -there weren’t that many mutant schools in New York City. “I met someone who teaches there as well, just a few days ago.” She mentioned, pushing the sticky note and pen to the side. “Xavia.” Alex paused, letting her eyes wander to the side as she tried to remember the peculiar last name she’d read on the business card. “Worshalai is her last name, I think.” She shifted her attention back to him, looking slightly uncertain about the last name of his fellow teacher. “You might know her…?” She added with a shrug. A few moments of silence followed, before she continued to the next question. “Are you a mutant yourself? Or do you just teach the kids?” The question sounded neutral – at most, a hint of curiosity in the undertone. After her encounter with Xavia, she became more intrigued about the mutant community and their interactions with humans such as herself. At this point, with all the matters which interested Alexandra discussed and agreed upon, she was just making small talk.