The Art Dealer by Megan West Page A

spotless white walls. Colorful paintings hung everywhere, statues filled in some of the empty space on the floor. The place was extremely clean, sharp, and well kept. Not a dust bunny could be found anywhere.
     
    She began to walk towards the receptionist’s desk. She walked with perfect confidence, even though her stomach was turning in knots. She was nervous, she wanted desperately for her painting to hang on one of those impeccable white walls.  
     
    The receptionist was very attractive herself; blond hair, blue eyes. She would have looked more at home on a runway than behind that desk. Jen began to wonder if Harmon purposefully surrounded himself with gorgeous woman. She began to doubt herself. How could she get with Harmon if he had all of New York City to pick from?
     
    “May I help you?” She looked at Jen with raised eyebrows. It crossed Jen's mind if she was on to her little scheme. After all she had been to the gallery numerous times before and never dressed like that.
     
    “Hi my name is Jen Sutton, Is Mr. Harmon in?” She gave her a perfect charming smile. Attempting to calm the potentially troubled waters. The last thing she wanted was some sultry receptionist with big tits getting in the way of her destined career as an artist.
     
    She paused for a moment as she looked Jen up and down. Finally with a reluctant sounding sigh she held down a button on the phone and leaned in to the speaker. 
     
    “Mr. Harmon? A Ms. Sutton is here to see you.”
     
    Within a couple seconds Harmon replied.
     
    “Thank you Heather, send her in.”
     
    Jen couldn't help but try to analyze his tone of voice over the speaker. Was it irritation? Joy? Surprise? She attempted to talk Harmon into allowing her painting in the show twice before. This would be the third time talking to him, she wouldn't be surprised if he had started to get irritated. She quickly gave up on her analysis. He spoke in a straight business man tone. No inflections here or there to give any thoughts or feelings away.  
     
    Heather looked up at Jen and gave her a half smile on only one side of her mouth. It looked more like a smirk than a smile. She began to make her way towards his office door just behind the front desk. As she walked past she caught Heather giving her an up and down once over glance, still wearing the same smirk on her face. As if to say- Nice try bitch, if I couldn't get him, you can't either. Jen began to ponder whether or not she was being too harsh on the receptionist or to paranoid. Nope, she's probably actually a bitch.   
     
    Her pondering quickly came to a halt when she realized she had reached the door to his office. After all this planning she would now have to actually open the door and go through with it. For a moment she wanted to turn around and walk away, but she knew she had already passed the point of no return. She clenched her teeth, reached her hand forward and walked in. 
     
    She felt a lump in her throat form as soon as she laid eyes on him. She remembered him being handsome, but that day he seemed different, and much better looking than before. He had an ideal head of hair; jet black and wavy, and perfectly combed to the side. His strong jaw peppered with stubble. He wore a perfectly tailored thin cut suite as black as his hair, with a pale pink shirt underneath that gave it the right amount of pop. With a thin tie and a bright silver vintage tie clip he looked more like a fashion model than your typical wall street business man. Only a man with equal confidence could pull off his attire. He was the kind of guy that lit up a room when he walked in. He was immaculate, clean and sharp. The only thing sharper than his suite was his piercing blue eyes. The same piercing blue eyes that looked up at Jen as soon as she walked in the room; giving her a terrible catch in her throat.
     
    Harmon had been standing behind his desk studying a paper when Jen walked in. Before the door had shut behind her he had