“How much for it, then?”
“I keep telling you Miss.”
“Ms., actually.”
“Ms. That the artwork over there you’re asking about is not for sale. That one right over there.” He points for emphasis, but she doesn’t look. She’d seen enough. She *wanted* it. “Orders of the owner,” he says again.
“How about… I tell you that I created ‘Heathen’? How ’bout that?”
Benny looked Wheeler over better, noticed the forehead especially. “But… you’re a *demo*.”
“Precisely,” she shot back. She smiled that secret smile which told him she knew more than him, and that she was on top now. They set them up and she bowls them over per usual. He had no other choice; couldn’t take a chance that she was actually *the one*. He sighed.
“Very well. Follow me.”
She was ready to flip the hair back to reveal the other eye if needed. But it wasn’t.
“Just down the walk,” he said heading out the door.
Sunklands 