"Yes, this is her," I said. He chuckled on the other end.
"Mr. Dylan here. I would like to know if it would be possible for us to meet today. It is strictly business of course," Wayne said.
"Today you say?" I asked.
"Yes, the thing is I would like to invest in your gallery," he said.
"You know, I'm not the right person to call for that," I said.
"Well, you are the only one I know," Wayne replied.
I needed to get out of the house anyway.
"Can we do a lunchtime meeting? I have to go see a doctor first," I said.
"Okay, but if you are not well then we can reschedule, maybe tomorrow?" he asked.
"No! Uhm, I can do today," I insisted.
"Okay, I'll send the location of my office. I'll see you then," he said.
"Definitely, bye," I said.
"Bye," he replied.
I hung up and Sean looked at me, his eyes inquiring who I was on the call with.
"Can you take me to the doctor? I won't be able to drive myself," I said.
"Dr. Philips does house calls. I'll call him for you," Sean said.
"Okay," I replied.
"Who were you on call with?" he asked.
"Someone who is interested in investing in the art gallery," I said.
"I didn't know you handled investments," he said.
"I am the owner of the business. I handle everything," I told him.
"It was just a joke," he said.
He handed me a tray with my breakfast and we ate in silence.
"I'll be in the painting room should the doctor arrive," I said.
"Okay," he replied.
I walked from the kitchen to the basement. We had turned it into my art room. This is where the magic happens, every art piece from what I've exhibited to what the world hasn't seen of me. It is filled with color and every time I come here I am reminded of where I come from and where I am heading. It is where I escape reality and create my own.
Dr. Phillips and I go way back. He has treated most of my bruises and cuts. Yes, it had happened before. Sean had laid his hands on me before and it always ends with the doctor coming to me. This may be the last time he is doing so. He arrived an hour later and I moved from the basement to the lounge.
"When are you leaving him?" the doctor asked randomly as he examined my bruises.
He was a fifty-year-old man with grey hair and his face was showing wrinkles already.
"Anytime from today. I am tired," I said.
"I am too, of seeing you like this. I pray every time I am called that I don't find you halfway dead or already rotting," he said.
"I thank you for that, praying for me. I also think that it is now time for me to leave. He has caused enough pain and I cannot bear anymore," I said.
"I thought what happened in Cape Town would've opened your eyes, but I am not blaming you. Love is blind," he said.
I felt a shiver down my spine as a memory of what had happened in Cape Town a year ago crossed my mind.
"Can we please not talk about that incident?" I asked.
"I understand. I am sorry," he said.
We decided to keep quiet and he continued with his examination.
"No major damage done. The bruises will fade as time goes. No broken ribs or broken arm. The swelling on your arm will go down too. Just drink the pills I gave you and rest. You are still young and beautiful, Beauty. You don't deserve this. I pray this is the last time I treat you for beatings," he said.
I nodded. "Thank you very much, Doctor," I said.
He smiled, packed his equipment, and walked out of the house. I drank the pills and laid my head on the couch. I must've passed out because I was woken up by my ringing cell phone. Sean's name flashed.
"Hello," I said.
"Hey, the driver is there to drive you to your meeting today," Sean said.
"Uhm okay, that is very thoughtful of you. Thank you very much," I said.
"I'll see you later today," he said.
"Sure," I replied.
I hung up and the pills indeed helped with the swelling on my left hand. The pain subsided in my ribs, but I could still feel it when I bent over. The plan was to not bend over. I walked to my room for a change of clothes and did a little makeup on my face to hide the fading color of my nose. The driver knew the place when I gave him the coordinates to the location. We arrived at the building; it was just outside the North End and it was a law firm.
I walked in and I was greeted by a nice receptionist who led me to the office of Mr. Dylan. I knocked once and entered. There he was looking cute, yes he was cute with his glasses on. I smiled.
"Mrs. Sean, welcome," Wayne said. We shook hands and I took my seat.
"You do know that my name is Beauty, right?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied.
"Please address me by it then," I told him.
"Okay. How are you, Beauty?" he asked.
"I am very well thanks, how are you?" I asked.
"I am okay too," he said. He looked at me like he was reading me, like he was searching for something in my eyes.
"Uhm, you said we were going to discuss business and not stare at each other," I said.
"I am sorry. It's just that there's something on your face," he said.
"What?" I asked.
"The makeup. What are you hiding?" he asked.
"And how is that related to what I am here for?" I asked.
"It's not at all related, but I can't help the tension you are giving away. Madlomo, I can sense it all. The hurt, the pain, and the deep scars," he said.