The Fundraiser

Jacquelyn looked at herself skeptically in the mirror and cocked her head up just slightly. “You still clean up beautifully,” she thought to herself, tucking a tumbling strand of blonde hair behind her ear and then promptly changing her mind and pulling it loose to hang down next to her face. She had used makeup to hide the creases she could; she felt as good as ever when she put the effort in.

She picked up her favorite perfume, a light floral scent, family-made and hypoallergenic, it reminded her of walking through the tulip fields in the springtime. A couple of spritzes and one diamond necklace later she was done. She picked up the end of her long, blue evening dress and let the silky fabric fall to the floor. She hadn’t had a reason to wear a dress like this in a very long time, it was exciting.

Her little white Volkswagen wove expertly through traffic, and she arrived at the gallery just 15 minutes after the door opened. 15 minutes was fashionably late, right? Jacquelyn wasn’t sure she had ever known exactly when fashionably late was.

She stood at the bottom of the large stone steps and gazed for a moment up at the building. The straight white walls were adorned with just a few panes of frosted glass and a large doorway that was currently propped open. She walked carefully up the stairs, letting the cool evening air blow tendrils of her hair across her face, she inhaled deeply, trying to remaster her long-neglected heels.

Her steps clacked on the marble lobby floor as she approached the desk to check in, “Hello, I’m Jacquelyn Strauss, I’m here with M & S Realty.”

The young woman at the front desk gave her a small smile, “Welcome, here is your name tag and a gallery map. Thank you for your contribution.” Jacquelyn couldn’t help but be thankful she didn’t have to give lines like that anymore, the poor girl sounded downright bored.

She took the items gratefully and walked down a hall to the right that sported a sign “Fundraiser” with an arrow pointing forward. There were fewer lights near the end of the hall, and she could hear a low, trendy electronic beat welcoming her into its fold. She felt so out of place, usually her boss came to these fundraisers to mingle with his friends, but he was out of town and needed the company to represent, so Jacquelyn – who had no kids, no social obligations, no reason not to – volunteered as tribute. She could be at home with a book, why didn’t she just let someone hire a babysitter?

At the end of the hall a large canvas adorned an otherwise flat wall, with a doorway just off to the left she was sure she was supposed to enter. Jacquelyn paused for a moment to look at the painting – it was a city skyline, dark, blues and blacks with an abstract red through the middle that helped the buildings stand out. It was titled “The End.” She took a moment to contemplate the insinuation before marching forward to battle.

The fundraiser room itself was dimly lit, with individual spotlights shining over the various paintings. A few young men and women in black slacks and comfortable shoes carried around plates of hors d’oeuvres, and there was a small bar standing in the corner.

Jacquelyn stood in line at the bar behind a tall man with wavy brown hair, he turned around with a smile, “Let me buy you a drink?”

She took a good look at him, slightly taken aback. The man couldn’t be much older than her, although it was hard to tell anymore. He had kind eyes and a soft smile, and despite her hesitation, she warmed to the genuine look of his face. Without much thought, she had to ask, “I thought this was an open bar?”

“Oh, it is, but you seem like you could use a drink so I figured I’d offer. It’s even in my budget for this evening, ‘Buy the pretty lady you haven’t seen at one of these functions a glass of wine at the open bar’, invoiced line item.”

Jacquelyn laughed timidly, “Very well, I will have a glass of wine – red – thank you.”

He grinned again, and she had to admit, it was a handsome man who was “buying her a drink.” He had deep brown eyes that crinkled in a friendly way, his skin looked like he enjoyed the outdoors, and his mannerisms were soft and open.

“Two glasses of your finest merlot, please!” He told the bartender jovially. Jacquelyn watched with satisfaction as her new acquaintance slipped a $10 bill into the bartender’s tip jar – she would have been rather upset if he’d offered to “buy” but didn’t tip the poor man. She slid up next to him and added another five, just for good measure.

The bartender was busy pouring their glasses, so she took the chance to introduce herself. “I’m Jacquelyn, I work for M & S Realty,” she gestured to her name badge, feeling the absurdity of the situation starting to sink in.

“Oh! You work for Marty and his partner! I’m Marshall, I work for the most creatively named property management company on the block – PM. I end up at these things all the time, I secretly think they’re fun.”

He winked, handing her a glass of wine, then turned back to the bartender, “I’m a wine guy, I have to know what I’m drinking.”

The bartender smiled, probably happy someone wanted more than just a nameless drink to get them through the night, “It’s 2019 Jet Bird – from the North Coast, California of course – they actually serve good wine around here.”

“Excellent, thank you! Shall we?” Marshall turned to Jacquelyn and motioned toward the room. She beamed up at him, grateful for the company of someone more familiar with the situation.

As they walked toward the first painting, Jacquelyn grabbed a deviled egg off a tray and popped it into her mouth with unfortunate timing, as Marshall chose that moment to comment, “I don’t mean to keep you from anyone, if you need to make the rounds feel free to.”

Jacquelyn, her mouth uncomfortably full, chewed ferociously while shaking her head, and after swallowing in an embarrassingly dramatic manner she was able to respond, “I wasn’t even sure who I was going to talk to here.”

He flashed his charming smile again, “Excellent, you are now saddled with my bad jokes for the time being.”

As they stood in front of the first painting Jacquelyn was unsure what to say next – the painting was white with a few small squares in the middle. She didn’t have anything to say about it, “What do you do for PM?”

He chuckled, “I own it!”

“Wait, you're mocking the name of your own company? Why did you call it PM then?”

“It turns out I’m better at managing property than naming property management companies,” Marshall shrugged, “I was literally staring at the LLC paperwork when I first started trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I panicked and just wrote down ‘PM Property Management LLC’. In my head it stood for ‘Probably Marshall’s,' but everyone just thinks of it as ‘Property Management Property Management’ now.” He sighed, “Oh well, it gets the point across. Now I think of it as doubly effective branding.”

Jacquelyn giggled, at least she thought she giggled, is that what that sound was? “I work in marketing, and I suppose effective branding is one term for it.”

His smile returned, more mischievous in manner this time, “Oh, marketing – an artistic expert – what is the deep and profound meaning of this piece?”

They were standing in front of the second painting now. It was black and layered with a bunch of different-sized orange circular shapes. Jacquelyn thought it was an interesting piece of art, but she wasn’t sure she saw a deep and profound meaning, so she went for the absurd, “God went to Oregon State.”

Her new companion laughed soulfully, “What?”

“It’s like the circle of life but it’s all orange and black – God went to Oregon State,” she smiled at her ability to one-up Marshall’s entertaining ridiculousness.

“That is perfect,” he nodded approvingly, “Maybe we can learn about God’s extracurriculars in the rest of these paintings.”

Jacquelyn took a sip of her wine. It had complex, dark fruit flavors that highlighted sweet, intense undertones she wasn't expecting. “This is really good," she commented.

Another one of Marshall's increasingly disarming smiles was pointed at her, “I’m glad you like it – Merlot is one of my favorites, it’s vastly underrated.”

“I wish I knew more about wine,” Jacquelyn admitted.

“I wish I knew more about branding!” her new companion quipped.

The two of them moved through an easy evening exchanging jokes and increasingly absurd interpretations of the paintings. Jacquelyn felt at ease, she couldn’t believe she was enjoying herself so much – especially with an attractive man. She hadn’t had a chance to meet an attractive man in a couple of years, ever since she’d uninstalled all her online dating apps. She hadn't had a chance to actually enjoy the company of one since long before that.

At the last painting they paused; it was incredibly scenic, less abstract than anything they’d seen that evening. A small cottage stood at the edge of a field, a stag stood just off to the right; there was certainly a composition lesson involved Jacquelyn had missed, but she appreciated the end result.

Marshall turned his large brown eyes to her, reflecting the broad green field in the painting, his face in a more serious expression than she’d seen it all night, “I haven’t had fun like this at one of these in a long time. I always enjoy them, but I laughed a lot tonight.”

Jacquelyn nodded with thoughtful contentment, “Me too – the laughing – not the coming to one of these.”

Marshall’s face took on a more playful nature, “Do you think I could actually buy you a drink sometime? Someplace not a fundraiser?”

“I would like that a lot! Maybe you can take me wine tasting? Teach me a thing or two.”

“It’s a date!” He exclaimed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to exchange numbers, “I know the perfect spot that specializes in Right Bank Bordeaux blends, Merlot blends.”

With a nod and a smile, Jacquelyn marveled at the simplicity of what should have been an awkward conversation, and at the simplicity of what should have been an awkward evening. She had been so nervous before she left home. She glanced down at the blue evening dress, feeling oddly at home and excited for whatever lay ahead.