Billionaire Baby Deal

The atmosphere at Sofia Collins's art studio was exceptionally fumed with the stale stench of turpentine and a slight odor of canvas. The room was alive with color: some artists' pieces were left half painted and stacked against the wall while others had paintings hanging on easels with thick red and blue decorations in rusty brown wooden stands. The chair, on which sat Sofia, was so frail that one could guess it could wobble at any given minute while the brush she held was dipped into the pot of the green paint, coming out as steady but racing inside her head.

This piece had to be perfect. The breakthrough strokes-ambition/desperation-fueled her as she labored over the centerpiece for her first solo show.

For the final time in her life, the gallery exhibit was the only opportunity for her to make her mark in the city filled with talent and apathy.

Her phone rang, and she was immediately alert. She glanced at the screen.

"Unknown Number."

Turning away, she shook her head and sighed before replying, bringing a cloth to her hands.

"Ms. Collins?" A cold, inflected voice was waiting for her.

"Yes, speaking."

"This is Karen Whitley from the Stanton Gallery. I have some good news. I know because the arrangements you made for the exhibit are for next month."

Sofia gasped and nearly slipped out of the phone. It was for this very Stanton Gallery for which she had been chasing for years, its name something of a glory for the art scene in Manhattan.

"Uh... incredible," Sofia stammered out. "Thank you so much."

He waited for her to go on and then said in her most official, granite voice, "There is a detail." "This gallery has recently been bought by someone new, and the owner is very keen to be involved in the organization of all future shows."

Sofia frowned. "Who's the new owner?"

There was a momentary pause, then Karen responded, "Austin Reed."

Sofia was astounded by the name as if someone had blown a gust of cold wind over her. The egotistical, often ruthless, Austin Reed, the billionaire who made the headlines almost on a daily basis. A known figure in hostile takeovers and ruthless negotiations; a complete personification of everything Sofia despised about the corporate world.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Karen asked.

Sofia hesitated. It was impossible for her not to help. This was her only job, and even if she felt some displeasure, she would endure all that was required for this show to be successful.

"Not a problem," replied Sofia, fear in her voice more evident than before. The next afternoon, riding the elevator to the upper floor of Austin Reed's penthouse felt like years. Sofia clutched a portfolio of sketches to her bosom as if it were an armor and was still filled with a combination of adrenaline-like feelings of excitement and fear.

As the doors of the lift opened halfway, Sofia entered a room that was beyond vulgar and kitsch it was vulgar luxury. Manhattan skyline views visible through large glass panels were on all the walls around us. It was cold, and the sun was pale, but otherwise it was a fine winter day in Mildura, as the light illuminating the city suggests. All furniture was modern with black and white color combinations; a light and pleasant smell of cedar and leather could be detected.

And there he was.

Austin Reed leaned against the windows; his figure was visible He stood Tall broad shouldered and impeccably clad Austin Reed was the epitome of power and authority. Sofia stared into his jagged gray eyes when he turned to her and she saw the hatred.

"Ms. Collins," he said in fluent English, speaking and extending his hand.