Dumb Blond

Chapter 12

Brian spent his weekend fucking and drinking.  He wanted to blow off some steam and the backrooms at Woody’s and Babylon provided that.  Two nagging thoughts dogged him all through his marathon of fucking.  Who was writing those notes?  Should he try to see the Dumb Blond one more time?  He didn’t really want to deal with either of those thoughts, but he knew deep inside that he should.  His lost weekend didn’t make him feel any better when he went into Kinnetik on Monday morning.

As usual he glanced over at the Eyeconics boards.  He saw a post-it note near the top.  That was not where he had placed his message.  He dropped his briefcase on the desk and went over to the boards.

The new message read:

We both have a great eye.  A quick wit?  I’m not so sure.  I haven’t met you yet.

Brian snorted and then chuckled out loud.  He had to meet whoever was doing this.

Brian grabbed a post-it and quickly wrote:

I haven’t met you yet either, but not for lack of trying.  Contact me, Mr. Quick Wit.  BK

He stuck it on the lower portion of the board wondering if this note would get any better results.

*****

Justin stood beside his painting which was on an easel in the open space of the art department.  Each student in his class was doing the same thing.  This was their evaluation session with each other and with the professor.  Four other students had gone already, getting some constructive criticism about their work.  Justin had to admit that he wasn’t all that impressed with any of their paintings. 

Now it was Mark Botelli’s turn, and then him.  Mark’s painting was quite striking – all angles and piercing shards.  Justin thought it was quite wonderful.  Even though he detested Mark and his wise ass comments, Justin had to admit that the guy had talent.

“Some of those sharp pieces feel like they could rip you to shreds,” Justin commented.  “The painting is very powerful, cutting.  It captures the feeling of danger and fear.”

“Glad you can recognize real talent,” Mark whispered to Justin.

Justin almost regretted what he had said about Mark’s painting, but he also knew that his words were the truth.  He merely smiled at his fellow student.  Mark stared at him for a moment before looking away.

“Interesting,” the professor said as Justin finished.  “I would have to agree.  Very powerful, Mr. Botelli.  Well done!”

“Thank you,” Mark said to the professor.  Mark glanced at Justin who was looking at the professor as she walked over to his painting.

A couple of students commented that they loved the color combination of Justin’s painting.  Another student said she could feel the emotional intensity that the painting seemed to represent.  Justin was pleased.

Mark cleared his throat like he was about to speak.  Justin cringed inside.  Mark could be so caustic with his comments.  Justin braced himself against what he was sure would be a verbal onslaught.

“I think this is the best thing Taylor has created so far,” Mark began. 

Some of the students nodded.  Justin waited knowing that the zinger was likely coming in Mark’s next words.

“I advised him not to overwork his canvas,” Mark explained.  Justin shook his head knowing that Mark was indirectly taking credit for Justin’s work.  He couldn’t believe the gall of the guy.  “For once he listened to me.”  Several students chuckled, while some others snorted knowing only too well about Mark’s oversized ego.  “This painting has such power and emotion.  It’s all heat and passion.  I can’t think of another abstract that I’ve seen that can evoke such a powerful response, except of course my own.”

There was some laughter at Mark’s self- aggrandizement.  He was a horse’s ass most of the time, but they all knew he usually spoke the truth too.

Justin looked at Mark then.  Had he just heard a ringing endorsement of his painting even if it was with an uncalled for remark tacked on the end of it?

“I would have to agree with you, Mr. Botelli,” the professor said.  “This is a most wonderful piece, excellent color choices and great depth of feeling.  Well done, Mr. Taylor.”

Justin’s smile was radiant as he heard his professor’s praise.  It almost made all his struggle and hard work seem worthwhile.  This was why he painted – to evoke emotion and understanding from the viewer.

“Thank you, Professor Martin,” Justin said suddenly feeling humble.

There was one more student who presented her painting, but the whole thing was a blur to Justin.  All he could think about were the professor’s words of praise.  He had received good comments before but nothing like this.  And nothing based on a painting that meant so much to him.

*****

Monday evening Justin went to his job with Joe.  He was feeling great about the feedback on his painting and he told Joe all about it over their break.  Joe was pleased for the lad and stated that he wished he could see the painting.  It sounded beautiful.

Justin smiled when Joe told him that.  Most people would think someone who ran an office cleaning service would hardly be interested in art.  But Justin had quickly learned that there was a lot more to Joe than first appearances would lead you to believe.  Joe read several newspapers every day and was up to date on all current events.  He and his wife went to museums and art shows.  They went to the theater occasionally when there was something they really wanted to see.  Joe was a very well rounded man.

“You should bring Lydia to PIFA one day when I’m there.  I’ll show you my space and you could see the painting,” Justin suggested.

“I’d like that,” Joe said with a warm smile.  “I’ll check with Lydia, and maybe we can work out something so that happens.”

“That would be great,” Justin replied.  Joe was as close to a family as Justin currently had, so having him come to PIFA would be really nice.

Joe studied his young employee.  Justin had seemed happy lately.  He wondered if that happiness had to do with the man that Justin had met.  “Are you and your man still seeing each other?” Joe asked.

Justin made a face and shook his head.  “Naw, it didn’t work out,” Justin said barely above a whisper.

“That’s too bad.  He seemed to make you really happy.”

Justin thought about that for a minute.  “He did, but he was from a whole different world.  He has money and he’s gorgeous.”

“You ain’t so bad looking yourself,” Joe declared making Justin blush.  “Just sayin’.”

Justin chuckled.  “Thanks, but don’t tell Lydia.  She might not like us being together three nights a week.”

Joe guffawed.  “She’s happy to have me out of her hair for a while when I’m working.”

“Well tell her tonight’s soup was especially good,” Justin said starting to clean up their dishes.

“I will.  She loves to hear how great her cooking is.”

“She’s the best.”

“Darn tootin’.”

While Joe went back to work on his offices, Justin cleaned up and headed for the big office at the front of the building.  He always ended his work in that space.  He could get a whiff of Baldessarini and see if there was a message for him tonight.  He was quite enjoying the anonymous repartee with BK, who must be someone important in the advertising agency.  It almost sounded like he was being offered a job by this guy, but Justin had his future mapped out and he didn’t plan to deviate from that, especially when he might be communicating with some flunky who had no real power at all.

Justin hurried into the office and over to the boards.  The Eyeconics ads with the purple colors still sat on the easels across from the Fluke boards.  Justin always felt proud when he saw his slogan staring back at him from the Fluke boards.  He thought they all looked great.  His heart jumped when he saw a post-it in the lower half of the first board.  It must be a new one.  His heart skipped a beat as he reached for the note.  He wondered what it would say.

I haven’t met you yet either, but not for lack of trying.  Contact me, Mr. Quick Wit.  BK

Justin chuckled to himself.  He liked being called Mr. Quick Wit.  That appealed to him.  BK wanted him to contact him.  He was agreeable to this kind of contact but he wasn’t going to actually speak to the man.  He needed to think up a good but non-committal response to the note.  He enjoyed this game they were playing and the right note would keep it going.

Justin got to work.  While he cleaned and dusted he was thinking about how to reply to the note.  He took a sniff of the Baldessarini after finishing the restroom.  And then it hit him – how to reply to the note.

Are you the person who wears Baldessarini?  I love that scent.  You should do an ad campaign for it.

Justin stuck the post-it on the board and went to dust the big desk.  That was always his last job of the night.  Then he could go home and get some sleep.

“Justin, you done?” Joe called from the hall.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out.”  Justin took a last look around before picking up his cleaning supplies and leaving the office.

As they rode home in Joe’s van, Justin was thinking about his response to the post-it note.  Maybe he shouldn’t have made that suggestion.  He didn’t know how ad campaigns came about, but he supposed you couldn’t just choose a product and get to do that campaign.  BK would probably think he was an idiot for proposing such a thing.  No more Mr. Quick Wit.  He had probably made a fool of himself and he would never get another note from BK.  He heaved a weary sigh.

“Tired?” Joe asked as they turned into Justin’s street.

“Yeah, and I’m a stupid fool.”

“What?  What are you talking about?  You’re not stupid, and don’t ever let me hear you say that again.  You’re smart and talented.  Remember that.”

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” Justin said softly, “but I am stupid.”

“Don’t say that, Justin.  I’ve had a lot of guys work for me over the years.  You’re smarter than all of them put together, and you know how to work.  You’re a good person.  Don’t get down on yourself.  And that’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Justin said suddenly feeling a little better because of Joe’s fierce defense of him.  He needed somebody to stand up for him.  Today had been full of highs and lows.  What difference did it make if BK thought he was dumb?  He had never met the person and his opinion didn’t really matter.  It was just that Justin had enjoyed playing the note game with the man … or woman.  It had been fun and challenging, something out of the ordinary in the mundane routine of his life.  He had liked it, and he would be sorry to see it end.

“I’ll talk to Lydia tonight about coming to PIFA to see your work.  What days would work best?” Joe asked.

“Probably Thursday would be the best … around lunchtime, and I’ll treat you to lunch in the cafeteria.  It’s nothing like Lydia’s food, but it’s not too bad,” Justin replied.

“You don’t have to treat us,” Joe protested.

“I know I don’t, but I want to.  So let me know if Thursday works,” Justin said as they pulled up in front of his building.

“I will.  Goodnight, Justin.”

“Night, Joe, see you Wednesday night.”

Joe nodded before he drove away.

Justin started his long journey up the stairs to his tiny apartment.  Someday he would live in a nice building with an elevator and a huge shower … like the one in Brian’s apartment.  Justin wished things would stop making him think about Brian.  There had been no sign of the man since their night together.  He hadn’t asked for Justin’s address or his phone number.  He wasn’t interested in anything more than their one night together.  He was making that clear by his absence.  Emmett had warned him about Brian’s one time only policy.  He should know better.

But how did you stop your heart and your body and your brain from wanting something.  If he could find the answer to that, he would be rich and famous … like Brian. 

Shit!!!

*****

Brian checked the boards when he got into Kinnetik on Tuesday morning.  He noticed the post-it in a new location and went to retrieve it.  He read:

Are you the person who wears Baldessarini?  I love that scent.  You should do an ad campaign for it.

The handwriting was the same as always, but the message troubled him.  Whoever wrote that wasn’t familiar with how advertising worked.  That made it unlikely that it was someone who worked at Kinnetik.  Who was getting into Kinnetik to leave these messages?

And how the fuck did someone know about the Baldessarini cologne that he wore?  Had he met this person somewhere?

Brian found this whole thing more and more disturbing.  Something had to be done.

“Cynthia, come in here,” Brian said into his phone.

“Yes, Boss?” Cynthia asked as she entered the office.  Something wasn’t right in Brian’s tone.

“Find out all the people who have access to this place – from couriers to repairmen to cleaners.  Check over the last two weeks, and I do mean, include everybody.  I want a comprehensive list of who they are and when they were in here.  Understood?”

“Yes,” Cynthia said with a frown.  “What’s happened?”

“Whoever has been leaving the post-its on the boards has to be someone that doesn’t work here,” Brian stated tersely.

“Um, how do you know that?”

“Suffice it to say that I know.”

“Okaaay, but … you think it’s somebody who is getting in here from time to time?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s not … good,” Cynthia said.

“It’s fucking unacceptable!”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it.”  She quickly left the office.

Brian sat down in his chair.  He did not like this situation at all.  Something was really amiss.  He thought about the note.  He wondered if he should respond to it.

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