To Love in Full

Chapter 2: Appetence

Appetence (n.) An eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bond.

Arabella's P.O.V.

The rest of the tour did not last for long, Mr. Baglioni had explained that I needed to help his clients select their finest works of art and organize them in the galleries to form a display that was pleasing to the public eye.

I parted ways with Alexander and Mr. Baglioni as they went over to an office to discuss the security details for the museum. I found myself gazing at the paintings that were framed against the walls as I walked through the gallery aimlessly.

I stopped in front of a painting that exhibited a landscape of wildflowers in a field. The thin brushstrokes lined out every detail, the colors created a vivid scene, and the sunlight from the windows helped the painting come to life.

It's elegant, natural, and radiant. It's impressionism.

The next painting that I came across was unusual and eccentric. The objects and figures painted on the canvas were not something one would find in reality, but from a whimsical imagination.

Expressionism? Or maybe surrealism.

As I came across the last painting, I noticed it was very different from the others. It was not extravagant; it was minimalistic. Not colorful, but plain.

It's boring, I thought to myself as I stared at the black canvas with one white dot in the center.

Definitely modern art. How do these things sell for millions of dollars? Or better yet, who in their right mind would think to purchase one of these for a million dollars? It must be nice to be rich.

Taking one last glance around the room, I noticed that some frames were tilted out of place and one canvas was slightly sticking out of its frame, almost like it was removed. It was strange, the previous curator must have been fired given that they did an awful job at rearranging these pieces.

I sighed and roamed over to the next gallery but stopped in my tracks when I saw the peculiar man in black from earlier. He made brief eye contact with me but then directed his attention towards another sculpture.

How long has he been here?

Should I say something to him? If he is an employee I should introduce myself to my future coworker.

What if he doesn't understand English? I cringed at the thought when I remembered what happened with Alexander.

Well would it make any difference? I already talk to myself a lot anyway. I sighed, alright.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said while nodding towards the statue he was looking at.

I walked closer to stand next to him, mindful to keep my distance, as he looked at me not saying a word.

Great.

"It's called the Girl from Anzio."

Still no reply.

This is truly embarrassing, why must I always say something? Next time I will just keep my mouth shut.

Actually, no. This is not my fault, why do none of these men respond when they are spoken to?

"Where is the man you were with earlier?" he asked abruptly in a gruff Italian accent.

He caught me off by surprise. So, he does talk.

"Baglioni," he said with impatience and irritability in his voice.

What was with the attitude? I turned towards him with my eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed over my chest, and head slightly tilted to the side to look up at him.