"Carmela la peintre," he greeted me with a radiant smile. I mirrored his enthusiasm, but my awkwardness betrayed me. His keen observation caught my discomfort in an instant.
"You don't understand French?" he queried, and with a hesitant nod, I confirmed his suspicion. A chuckle escaped him. "It's okay though... Shall we get down to business?" he continued, prompting me to place my sketchbook and tablet on the table.
"You saw my work at my school audition, so here are some of my other completed works," I explained as I handed him my tablet. He nodded thoughtfully as he swiped through the images. "Truth be told, you're surely a talented painter... but I don't want any of these. Can you paint a portrait of me? I've always wanted a huge portrait of myself, but I've never found the right artist until now. My instincts tell me you're the one for the job," he declared, his smile unwavering as he slid a blank check across the table.
