Possessed hearts - стр. 25

A nice mortal, I'll give you that. Not many of them.

– Goodbye, Mr. Attick, I'll be back at six. – I picked up my bag and woollen cardigan and headed for the door.

– See you tonight, Miss Mroczek.

I had a three-hour wait ahead of me, and I didn't feel like going back to the hotel. I caught a taxi and went to Najada Olivecka's exhibition. After breathing in the aroma of reportage photography, which I would call "social" as this Moldovan photographer's work reflected everyday life and generational conflict, and imagining exactly how I would design my exhibition, I returned to the Colour world office to find out my verdict.

– Your work was to his liking. Congratulations. – Mr. Attick smiled, but I could see that he was clearly hiding something, and it was something that made him mentally uncomfortable.

– Well, I'm glad. So it's time to sign the contract? – I asked. – But there's something troubling about you. Your sponsor must have had some questions about my work.

My bluntness didn't embarrass Bernard. Of course he did – he'd been working at the magazine for twenty-seven years, as editor-in-chief, and had seen a lot.

– No, everything went smoothly. He really liked your work. That's true. But he'll only agree to organise your exhibition on one small, I'd say insignificant condition.

– What condition? – I frowned.

– He wants to buy one of your works on the condition that you never publish it anywhere else. All options, all files.

– Hmm, that's an interesting condition! – I grinned. It flattered me. – Did he like my work that much?

– When he got to this picture, he looked at it for about three minutes. Usually, he looks at each work in ten seconds.

– Which one? – I was getting curious.

– This one. – Mr. Attick held it out to me. – It won't be the subject of the exhibition.

А 4. A girl waiting for a tram. Ten years ago. One of the worst neighbourhoods in Prague. Not my favourite work, I must admit. I photographed this girl by chance because I was fascinated by her long, thick hair, slightly dishevelled by the wind. It was autumn and this girl was wearing a long black coat. Her hands were hidden in her pockets. Expressive brown eyes squinted. Hmm. And this picture so impressed the "great and terrible" sponsor that he was willing to buy all the rights to it?

– If he likes it so much, I can't deny him the joy of owning it," I said in a serious but ironic tone. – So, as you said, the name of your sponsor?

– Mr. Brandon Grayson.

My mouth dropped open, but no sound came out of it. I fell into a stupor.

– I see. – After a long pause, I let it out.

– Is everything all right? – Mr. Attick asked in a slightly concerned tone.

– Yes. It's just… I know him. He's one of my family friends. I didn't know he did exhibitions," I said casually. – How long has it been?

– This will be my seventh. Mr. Grayson is very generous and supports young talent. Like you, Miss Mroczek.

I grinned. To myself. Only a mortal would call me young.

– I'm flattered. So what about the contract? If we've got it all figured out, and I'm willing to give up all the rights and all the files for the job, I'm ready to sign and go to the hotel," I smiled.

Everything went without further ado. The contract was signed. The official opening date was set for the tenth of October.