Page 39 of Getting Down to Business

Chapter 9

Chanda tossed a lump of clay aside and frowned at the line she’d just created. It wasn’t the way she’d seen it in her head. She lifted her ribbon tool to take another try when her phone vibrated.

She wiped her hands and answered, seeing Doug’s name on the display.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” She could hear the familiar sounds of the bar in the background. “You’re not working tonight.”

“No. I have the night off.”

“That’s nice.” She smiled at his words. One of the things she enjoyed about Doug was the way he didn’t know how to be a player. He was honest to a fault.

“Is it?” she teased.

“Of course. It’s nice for you. I’m sure you’re enjoying your time off. Are you sculpting?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you.”

“What are you up to?”

“I came to see you at the bar. Now I’m trying to figure out how I might get an invite to come watch you sculpt.”

“Watch me sculpt?” She laughed, assuming that was not what he really wanted to do. Maybe he was a player after all.

“Yeah. I saw your art when I was at your place, but I don’t know how it works. I’d like to see you making it.”

“Are you for real?”

She heard him sigh.

“You probably don’t like people watching you. I get that. Would you like to get breakfast on Sunday morning?”

He was serious. She could tell. He actually wanted to watch her work.

“Come over. I’ll show you my stuff.”

“You’re sure? I don’t want to mess up your mojo or anything.”

“I don’t think you will. Maybe you’ll even inspire me.” He laughed at that and with a “see you soon,” he hung up. Chanda put her phone down and drew the perfect contour through the clay. He already inspired her.

It didn’t take him long to get to her place. He smiled when she opened the door. He kissed her and she smiled back.

“So what are you working on?” he asked, genuinely interested.

She showed him her drawing and what she had so far.

“It doesn’t always turn out like the drawing. I sketch it out as a guide, but then as I’m sculpting, I sometimes deviate if the clay wants to go in a different direction.”

“Can I try?” he asked.

“You want to help?” She looked at her project with worry.

“No. I don’t want to touch that. That’s yours.” He looked over to the pile of clay. “Maybe I could work on something of my own. Something way smaller.” He shrugged.

“Why would you want to sculpt?”