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Chapter 7: Watching From the Bar

The commotion at the reception continued to build until eight o'clock, when the gallery's receptionist started ushering people out. Alex fell in step towards the tail end of the departing throng, in a position where he could observe and follow Nikola from a safe distance. She and about a dozen other reception attendees stopped outside the gallery and formed a group around Martha, who was obviously directing traffic. Alex raised the collar of his jacket to hide his face as he passed beside the group, and continued walking away from the gallery. When he got to the end of the block, he turned the corner and walked a few feet, before doubling back to observe them. They gathered slowly and then crossed the street to the Greenhouse, an exclusive restaurant and bar.

Alex waited a few minutes before following them in. He went directly to the bar, which was close to the entrance of the restaurant. Fortunately, the bar was situated such that Alex could see most of the main room. Positioned perfectly for his purposes, it was off to one side and not very conspicuous to the crowd in the dining room. Most of the restaurant was contained within one big room, the only exception being a small balcony above the entrance that held a few tables and the rest rooms.

The group he was interested in filled a large table that spanned the width of the back of the restaurant. It stood in its own private section, on a slightly raised platform surrounded by a railing. As if they were on stage, Alex had a clear and unobstructed view of his subjects. He smiled and thought that he couldn't have planned it better if he had tried.

The restaurant was fairly large with very high ceilings and low lighting, like a converted loft space in that artist's studio style that had become very fashionable and a trademark of Soho. The prices were high, but business was brisk nevertheless, both at the bar and in the dining room. Apparently, it was one of the places to be at the moment.  

The gallery group was very animated. After they sat down, almost everyone got up in turn to speak and make a toast, including Nikola. Alex noted the activity at the table without much interest. Although he could lip read, he didn't even try to focus on the mouths of the people facing him. He was just killing time until they left, so he could follow Nikola home and find out where she lived. He turned to his scotch-on-the-rocks and stared at the slick, glistening surfaces of the ice cubes, wondering what he had gotten himself into this time.

After the speeches, the crowd at the table seemed to settle down, and from the distance it looked as if everyone there was involved in one or another serious discussion. Alex also observed a large number of wine bottles arriving at the table, so he imagined that people would start to loosen up, and he proved to be right. The group's volume rose noticeably as the evening went on. At the same time the general noise level in the rest of the room decreased the later it became. A few hours after they got there, Alex could hear frequent laughter and occasional shrieks coming from the group.

They had been there for three hours before the first person made a move to go. When Alex saw that, he immediately paid his bill and headed out. His car was parked within sight of the entrance to the restaurant, so he sat inside and waited for her to come out. It was half an hour later when, finally, she did.

A cab pulled up, apparently pre-arranged, and she entered it, along with three of her dinner companions. Alex had already started his car and followed the cab, almost a block behind them. They didn't go far, only about six blocks, when they stopped again on Wooster Street.

The narrow street was hardly wide enough for a car to pass between those parked on either side, and very dark. One of the street lights was out, and even the ones that worked were not very helpful. The buildings, predominantly brick, appeared to be a dark brown, aggravating the situation. Everything looked run down and gloomy. No galleries had moved to this street so far, and so the gentrification process had not yet begun here. Nikola got out of the cab and entered one of the brown buildings. The cab pulled off, and Alex parked across the street from Nikola's building. He saw lights appear on the top floor.

Alex watched the building for almost an hour. Once she came to the window, and he looked up at her, admiring her silhouette. He was surprised to see how big the windows were. Her whole figure was visible in the window which was nearly twice her height. As he stared up at her, a breeze from the open window rustled her party dress. The thin layers of chiffon deflected the light, blurring her slender silhouette. Alex, who had never thought much about artists before, now found himself staring at the ultimate romantic image of one. Framed in the traditionally huge studio window, she reminded him of the solitary figures in her paintings. He remembered how well he could connect with those figures, even though he had never been much of an art lover. Now, more than anything else, he wanted to reach out to her, join her and enter her world, but that was not his mission. He blinked a few times to regain his grip on reality, and regretted that he had to find her under these circumstances.

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