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Annie slammed the palette to the ground, this was the third interruption of the day and she was getting frustrated. Sylvia was the first a long time family friend, the interruption was welcomed as they had not seen each other in a while. But after she left the music was cranked and Annie got down to business, however Chad soon let himself in. Chad was her older, less responsible brother. Their father had given over his company to Chad and everything got royally fucked up. She had groaned when he pulled the plug on her music they argued and fussed over why she had unplugged her phone and turned her cell off. “Perhaps some of us are working on important things and don’t want distractions! What the hell do you want THIS time?” He’d barged in a few months ago pissed at their father for taking the company back.
She stood there, he in his navy designer suit, red tie undone and starched white shirt, her clothes were less sophisticate. She wore a pair of worn and weathered once blue jeans now multi colored jeans and matching tank in a color that once was grey. Her feet were bare and she had smudges of paint on them and on her cheek, neck and nose. Her long blonde tresses were twisted into braided pigtails on each side of her head and hung down her back. Large blue eyes took in his apologetic looks and pathetic attempt at hiding his shame. “What do you mean THEY want to see me? What is it about?” she narrowed her eyes at him, “What did you DO this time?” She crossed her slender arms over her chest and glared at him, he was acting way to guilty not to know the reason.
She picked up her brush and ignored him she slid angry strokes of deep red over the large white canvas as he picked through some of her displays. She sighed a breath of relief when he finally closed the door behind him. She forgot about the music and soon thin black lines were added to the canvas along with some yellow. She stood back and admired her work then pulled out her palette to work on the small intricate details and some of the shadowing. She clenched straight white teeth over her pink lower lip as she concentrated. She flicked her wrist sending long lines of color feathering out from one section. She smiled and repeated the process to acquire the desired affect all along the one area. She jumped and cursed loudly as the three sharp raps to the door startled her. She looked up to find her hard work had been ruined and that, was when she flung the palette to the ground causing little dots of paint to appear, not that this was a problem.
“Annette Olivia Mignonette Creed we do not speak such filth!” Her mother’s soft lilt drifted through the complete silence of the airy loft. Olivia rolled her eyes and peeked around the outer edge of the large canvas only to retreat once more. Her father’s larger form followed that of her small mother. “Oh dear, what a mess...” Her mother mumbled and shook her head. Olivia only shrugged, “That’s what happens when I get “in-the-zone” Mama,” she smiled and wiped her hands on a turpentine soaked rag. Her father frowned looking from her to the canvas; he always thought that artist was not a “real” career. She smiled up at him and spoke softly, “Hey Daddy.” She led them into the little sitting room off to the side of her studio before she ran up the stairs to her bedroom to clean up.
She slid on clean clothes her mother would approve of, dark blue jeans and a white vintage rose appliqué dress. She brushed through blonde strands still wet from her shower and pinned them back in sloppy waves, her signature style. She slid her feet into white espadrille sandals and once tied she headed down the stairs. She turned once smiling at her mother’s nod of approval. She seated herself across from them and waited to hear what was so important. Her face fell and the bright blue eyes widened. Her mother swiped away tears as her father told them of their master plan. A collaboration of oil companies, her families and another’s. But in order to do so it was required of her to marry the son of the other company’s owner. She clasped her hands over her stomach as she stood and paced. Everything was spinning and blurry, the tears that built in her eyes refused to fall. She pressed a palm to her brow and stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts.
A few minutes later she stood yelling at the couple as they sat hands clasped together. “How could you Daddy, am I not as important to you as your company?” her blue eyes bore into his, “And YOU!” she turned on her mother who cringed, expecting this from her free spirited daughter. “How dare you allow him to do such a thing? You knew I never ever wanted to get married, THAT’S why you did this, isn’t it?” her arms flailed around as she spoke going this way then that as she attempted to convey her displeasure. “I will not marry some stranger to make up for Chad and your mistakes! I refuse!” She flopped back onto the couch the white dress furling out and around her causing her to look younger than her 24 years. She felt sick and disgusted at the same time, she was only a pawn in her father’s life, an object to get them what they needed in order to maintain a life style they were so used to.
She hated it, but knew she’d do anything for them. She clenched her jaw and nodded as her mother mentioned dinner. She followed them out the door turning off lights in her studio as she went. She didn’t refuse as, once in the car, her mother added lip gloss and mascara to her face. She hated being made up but it made her mother happy so she complied, she wondered which restaurant Joseph would be taking them to, Rocco’s or The Noodle Bowl. But was surprised when they pulled up in front of a large white, colonial style, manor. “Don’t be nervous Annette.” Her mother said squeezing her hand. They were crazy, had to be if she thought marrying her off to anyone who lived like this would make her happy. She couldn’t help the feeling of nausea that swept over her as a neatly dressed butler opened the door and ushered them inside. She slid her hands down her dress smoothing the wrinkles and looking around at the massive foyer. She couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.
She stood there, he in his navy designer suit, red tie undone and starched white shirt, her clothes were less sophisticate. She wore a pair of worn and weathered once blue jeans now multi colored jeans and matching tank in a color that once was grey. Her feet were bare and she had smudges of paint on them and on her cheek, neck and nose. Her long blonde tresses were twisted into braided pigtails on each side of her head and hung down her back. Large blue eyes took in his apologetic looks and pathetic attempt at hiding his shame. “What do you mean THEY want to see me? What is it about?” she narrowed her eyes at him, “What did you DO this time?” She crossed her slender arms over her chest and glared at him, he was acting way to guilty not to know the reason.
She picked up her brush and ignored him she slid angry strokes of deep red over the large white canvas as he picked through some of her displays. She sighed a breath of relief when he finally closed the door behind him. She forgot about the music and soon thin black lines were added to the canvas along with some yellow. She stood back and admired her work then pulled out her palette to work on the small intricate details and some of the shadowing. She clenched straight white teeth over her pink lower lip as she concentrated. She flicked her wrist sending long lines of color feathering out from one section. She smiled and repeated the process to acquire the desired affect all along the one area. She jumped and cursed loudly as the three sharp raps to the door startled her. She looked up to find her hard work had been ruined and that, was when she flung the palette to the ground causing little dots of paint to appear, not that this was a problem.
“Annette Olivia Mignonette Creed we do not speak such filth!” Her mother’s soft lilt drifted through the complete silence of the airy loft. Olivia rolled her eyes and peeked around the outer edge of the large canvas only to retreat once more. Her father’s larger form followed that of her small mother. “Oh dear, what a mess...” Her mother mumbled and shook her head. Olivia only shrugged, “That’s what happens when I get “in-the-zone” Mama,” she smiled and wiped her hands on a turpentine soaked rag. Her father frowned looking from her to the canvas; he always thought that artist was not a “real” career. She smiled up at him and spoke softly, “Hey Daddy.” She led them into the little sitting room off to the side of her studio before she ran up the stairs to her bedroom to clean up.
She slid on clean clothes her mother would approve of, dark blue jeans and a white vintage rose appliqué dress. She brushed through blonde strands still wet from her shower and pinned them back in sloppy waves, her signature style. She slid her feet into white espadrille sandals and once tied she headed down the stairs. She turned once smiling at her mother’s nod of approval. She seated herself across from them and waited to hear what was so important. Her face fell and the bright blue eyes widened. Her mother swiped away tears as her father told them of their master plan. A collaboration of oil companies, her families and another’s. But in order to do so it was required of her to marry the son of the other company’s owner. She clasped her hands over her stomach as she stood and paced. Everything was spinning and blurry, the tears that built in her eyes refused to fall. She pressed a palm to her brow and stood there for a moment collecting her thoughts.
A few minutes later she stood yelling at the couple as they sat hands clasped together. “How could you Daddy, am I not as important to you as your company?” her blue eyes bore into his, “And YOU!” she turned on her mother who cringed, expecting this from her free spirited daughter. “How dare you allow him to do such a thing? You knew I never ever wanted to get married, THAT’S why you did this, isn’t it?” her arms flailed around as she spoke going this way then that as she attempted to convey her displeasure. “I will not marry some stranger to make up for Chad and your mistakes! I refuse!” She flopped back onto the couch the white dress furling out and around her causing her to look younger than her 24 years. She felt sick and disgusted at the same time, she was only a pawn in her father’s life, an object to get them what they needed in order to maintain a life style they were so used to.
She hated it, but knew she’d do anything for them. She clenched her jaw and nodded as her mother mentioned dinner. She followed them out the door turning off lights in her studio as she went. She didn’t refuse as, once in the car, her mother added lip gloss and mascara to her face. She hated being made up but it made her mother happy so she complied, she wondered which restaurant Joseph would be taking them to, Rocco’s or The Noodle Bowl. But was surprised when they pulled up in front of a large white, colonial style, manor. “Don’t be nervous Annette.” Her mother said squeezing her hand. They were crazy, had to be if she thought marrying her off to anyone who lived like this would make her happy. She couldn’t help the feeling of nausea that swept over her as a neatly dressed butler opened the door and ushered them inside. She slid her hands down her dress smoothing the wrinkles and looking around at the massive foyer. She couldn’t help but be a bit nervous.
