HIS FOR THE TAKING
nude female form Ava Sinclair had meticulously painted. Sitting back, she felt the
e. Her self-portrait revealed her delicate features frozen in a mix of ecstasy and defiance as she admired
upbringing had drilled into her the importance of innocence and modesty above al
beautiful and worthy of study rather than shame. Each nude self-portrait she created helped shed layers of societal guil
over her like a wave. This painting was different - it was her masterpiece, si
a curse, she silenced the device, almost spilling her cold coffee. The 25-year-old
r chestnut hair into a messy bun. She discarded her tattered oversized shirt and crossed the
va muttered in disgust as she pulled the black polyester polo
age between stale beer and diner grea
l shining with wet oils in the candlelight. She couldn't resist a sly smirk at how thoroughly she
essed the subject of the portrait with a saucy wink. Her attention quickly shot back to
on and beaten messenger bag serving as her purse. With a deep breath to brace herself, the artist-turned-server fl
ng against the linoleum steps. Despite the chores awaiting her, a serene smile traced it's way up her li
ready frizzing from the muggy summer night air. She scanned the cramped back hallway w
doorway leading to the main dining room. Len's bushy caterpillar eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his meaty ar
Ava began babbling her excuses in a breathless ru
ve wave. "I don't give a crap about your fingerpainting hobby. You clock in 10
ing cheap diner slop to ungrateful savages, it was her only tether to survival. Having no family, n
ut her lower lip in a petulant pout that made her look younger than her 25 years. "I
than to further test the volcanic temper of the miserly old man who looked at his
gainst hers perhaps a little too closely. "Then get your sweet ass out on the floor befo
lding. As she hurried to the time clock, she muttered under her breath, "Prick. Y
narrow waist and made her way into the bustling dining room. Plastering on her warmest smile, she grabbed h
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