Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins by Danika Stone Read Free Book Online

to.  Illegal or not.  She
woke sometimes in the night wondering if she should go and do it again. 
Other times she woke, listening to the rain and remembering the beach she’d stood
on as a child, wondering if Cole was awake too. 
    On Friday, Ava
skipped class like she always did.
    She painted all
day in the studio and when she came home, itching to check the answering
machine (though she wouldn’t even admit that to herself), she discovered a note
taped to the door.  It was a new reading list from Wilkins that someone
had brought by.  “ More fucking Greenburg!”   Ava swore as she
stomped inside, knowing she’d be spending the weekend in the library making
notes.  Reaching the living room, she threw herself down onto the
couch.  She flipped the page over and then froze, heart pounding. 
    There, in Cole
Thomas’s tidy handwriting, was a note:
    Ava: 
Leaving to go to my parents’ house this weekend. 
    Sorry I missed
you in class today.  - Cole
    The message left
her even more frustrated than before, so she poured herself into the
readings.  The convoluted descriptions and modernistic lingo left her
irritated and angry.  She needed to vent, but all she was doing was
reading and regurgitating.  No time for actual thought.  ‘ Fucking
précis!’ her mind screamed again.
    She spent all of
Saturday in the library fighting with the assignment, then met up with Marcus
and Suzanne and a few other friends from the university for drinks later that
night.  Chim offered to proof her précis – he was about as good at
double-talking his way through art history as stirring up controversy – so Ava
promised to give him a copy the following day, and Saturday ended with happy
laughter. 
    Sunday, Ava
painted again. 
    She hadn’t had
the dream in two days, so she left the canvas to sit and dry, and moved to
another sitting in her studio. It was one which captured her darker
moods.  This particular painting was a swirl of purple and blue smudges
darkening to black in the middle. Today she added details, realizing she had
been painting clouds rolling in off the water all along.  ‘A storm on
the ocean, ’ her mind whispered apprehensively.  She frowned seeing it.
The image worried her.
    That afternoon,
Raya Simpson showed up with a photocopied information package for Ava to
complete.  The agent stood for a long while in Chim’s studio space, her
shantung silk suit and high heels looking odd alongside the drop cloths and
clutter.  She asked Marcus to pull out his recent works and lay them along
the wall, taking pictures with a digital camera and giving him a card
afterwards. 
    Then she did the
same for Ava. 
    Raya stopped
speaking when Ava reached the swirling clouds.  The room was quiet as Ava
pulled out the remaining canvases, ending with the last, unfinished piece for
the student show.  Raya looked at them fiercely.
    “I need to show
these to Kip,” Raya said abruptly, her ringed finger tapping the papers she was
holding.  “But he’s in Lisbon.”
    “What?”
    Simpson looked
up, face businesslike again.  She gave Ava a once up and down, measuring
something.
    “I want to send
Kip over to see your real artwork when he gets back,” she said, stepping
forward and dropping her voice.  “I’ve got an idea for a collaboration for
you two.”
    “What do you
mean?”  Ava asked, feeling a little unsettled.  The words ‘real
artwork’ left her bristling.
    Raya smiled
benignly, pushing the heavy information package into her hands.
    “The summer
exhibition in the public space and the filming is just one of the things I want you to consider, but I have other projects on the go, too.  I’m
going to give your friend Marcus a call in the Summer. Seeing these,” she said,
“I have an idea for you and Chambers.” 
    She tipped her
auburn head and Ava fought the urge to fidget.   Raya Simpson exuded
a powerful force of authority in the art world, and Ava was wary of playing her
cards