When I’m not reading, I draw, filling my sketchbook with more and more pages of jewelry. Sometimes Mrs. Daniels comes to watch me, exclaiming about how talented I am.
The day Reiko
delivers the first batch of my clothes, I’ve been in Seattle for a little less than a week. As soon as Mrs. Daniel’s lets her in, she fills the apartment with her chatter.
“Wait till you see your new clothes.” She tells me, as Mrs. Daniels wheels the full clothes rack into the apartment.
I’ve been sitting in the living room, sketching at the window seat. As I get up to join them, Reiko comes over to me. “I didn’t know you were an artist.” She remarks, her eyes on the sketchpad I just abandoned on the coffee table.
“I’m not.” I deny, suddenly a little shy of my work. “I just like to draw jewelry.
“May I?” She looks closer, thumbing through a few pages, “These are really good.” She looks up at me, her eyes shining, “Why are you keeping them hidden?”
I laugh, “Please don’t spare my feelings.”
“No, really!” She nods, “I know what I’m talking about. My mother designs jewelry.”
I vaguely remember, her mentioning something like that.
She sound excited. “I’d totally rock these.” She turns to me “Have you made any of them?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I haven’t been to art school or anything.”
Reiko’s curtain of black and scarlet hair moves as she shrugs, “My mother didn’t go either. She took a private course and learned how to smith herself.”
“Really!” I’m impressed.
“Do you have any plans to make them?” she asks. Mrs. Daniels is wheeling the rack of clothes towards the door that leads to my dressing room from the hallway while we follow her behind.
I give a little grimace. “Not really, no.” I say, “at least, not for now. I just like to draw.”
She gives me a look. “You should though, with your talent, you could make a name for yourself.” She sounds serious. “I wish I could talk to my mother about you,” she says, “but I’m sure that would violate the NDA.”
Mrs. Daniels is already inside the dressing room. I stop at the door. What NDA? I think.
“What NDA?” I ask, an involuntary frown working its way to my face.
Reiko studies my face. “I...” for the first time since I met her she seems unsure what to say. She frowns, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m just not supposed to tell anyone about you.” She says finally.
I swallow, trying to keep my face calm even though my mind is churning. “Of course.” I pause outside for a moment while she joins Mrs. Daniels in the dressing room. A Non-Disclosure Agreement! Why? I don’t understand.
Is David keeping me a secret?
I think of the beauty team, the only other people I’ve met. Do they have orders not to mention me to anyone too?
Reiko and Mrs. Daniels are hanging up clothes, talking pleasantly about how to organize the closet. I can’t bring myself to join them. The questions are raging in my mind. Why am I a secret?
Why am I such a secret that people have to sign a contract before they can see me.
My mind goes into overdrive, churning out possibilities.
Is he ashamed of me, ashamed of his spur of the moment decision to tie himself to me? As far as I know, he could be working with his lawyers now trying to find a quiet way to get rid of me.
Is there someone else, someone he would rather be with maybe, someone he wouldn’t want to find out about me?
Everything starts to fall into place. Almost a week in Seattle, and I have never been anywhere with him.
Leaving Reiko and Mrs. Daniels in the dressing room, I find my tablet and go to David’s study. There is a soft leather sofa near the door, and I sit there, starting the tablet and going straight to the web browser.