"Miss Barbetti, I assume?" the woman asked.

"Um, er, yes," Tali stammered.

"This way," the woman said, holding her perfectly-manicured hand out to show Tali the way. "Mr. Sorrelman is waiting for you in his office."

"Oh. Thank you." Tali stepped inside, taking a moment to wipe her boots off thoroughly on the welcome mat. She followed the woman down the hallway, trying not to stop and stare. Just like the outside, it was all straight lines, with hardwood floors, wooden walls, armless chairs, and artistic area rugs. There was the faint smell of new carpet, although she couldn't tell where from since all she could see were hardwood floors. She passed by a large living room with a grand piano, fireplace, and an entire wall made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The room looked out on the lake, where a large cruiser boat was docked just in front of the backyard. It was so picturesque as if it were an open house and not somewhere someone actually lived.

Benjamin Sorrelman's office was located next to the living room. The woman knocked on the open door.  "Natalie Barbetti is here."

"Thank you, Jessica," a deep voice answered from inside the office.

And without fanfare, Jessica was gone, leaving Tali standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Come in," the voice said, somewhat warmly. "Don't be shy."

Tali entered the office. Standing behind the desk flipping through a manila folder, was Benjamin Sorrelman, the multi-millionaire owner of Sorrelman Landscaping and Architecture. According to Wikipedia, he was in his mid-thirties, nearly ten years older than Tali. His looks were dark and rugged, with dark brown, curly hair and a short, well-trimmed beard. He wore a navy blue suit with a printed t-shirt underneath, easily giving off the vibe that he was the perfect mixture of business and fun.

He looked up from his folder, his face brightening. "Ah! Now here is just the artist I've been wanting to see."

Tali knew he was probably turning on the businessman charm, but she still couldn't help feeling a little flattered. She held out her hand, which he took in a firm handshake. "Natalie Barbetti," she said in her best business voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sorrelman."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," he said, giving her hand one last shake before letting go. "But please, call me Ben."

Tali flushed. "Oh, I don't know..."

"I insist," he said. "Why don't you sit down?"

"All right," Tali said, a little overwhelmed. She sat down in the chair he held out for her, crossing her ankles and placing her purse on her lap. The office was designed to fit in seamlessly with the rest of the house. Behind the bamboo and glass-top desk was a large bar that could be accessed both from the office and the living room, stocked with expensive bottles of bourbon, vodka, wine, and tequila. Like the living room, the office had the same window wall, giving a perfect view of the sun setting on the opposite shore of Lake Washington. The sunlight reflected off the water, filling the room with a warm, rosy glow.

Ben sat on the edge of his desk, a little too close for comfort. "I know I mentioned it in the letter, but I must say that I was rather impressed with your work at the SOIL exhibition."

"Oh, thank you." Tali wasn't used to dealing with such obvious flattery.

"Your ability to provide such realism with watercolors is just astounding," Ben continued. "And yet you still manage to give them just the slightest breath of magic."

Tali shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Despite his enthusiasm, there was something off about him that really bothered her.

"One painting, in particular, seemed to jump out at me. I was almost floored with emotion when I saw it."

"Oh?" Now Tali could see what bothered her. At first, his flattery was very general, his eyes dull and his hands still. Now, though, his entire face lit up and his hands gestured animatedly.

"I can't begin to tell you how excited I was to see your painting." He slid from his perch to pull a large 18 by 24 canvas painting from behind the desk. Tali was startled to see that it was one of hers.

"Where did you get that?" Tali asked. The last time she had seen it was at the exhibition. What was it doing here?

"Hmm?" Ben looked up from the painting. "Oh, I bought it."

"But..." Tali was now seriously confused. "It wasn't for sale."

Ben shrugged. "Don't worry, I paid a handsome sum for it. I think the gallery owner was going to take 5 percent and give you the rest. He probably intended to give you the money once the exhibition was over."

Tali stood and took a step toward him. "Don't you think you should have gotten my permission before purchasing it?"

"I apologize," he said, not looking the least bit sorry. "But I just had to have it. You don't seem to realize how important your painting is."

Tali frowned. The painting, Bridge of the Mist, was one of her earlier works but it was one of her favorites. Not only had it won an award at the University of Washington, but it had also been featured in Watercolor Artist Magazine. She still felt she could have done a better job but the painting had sentimental value. The subject was a small bridge arching over a creek that ran through her Great-Grandfather's property. She had spent the summer there when she was eight and that little bridge had been one of her favorite places to play. She had first come to love drawing that summer and had spent many afternoons with her back to the bridge, scribbling away on the little sketchpad her Pabi had given her.

Tali swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden lump in her throat. "I don't know why you want it, but that painting is very important to me. I'll return all your money, but I would like the painting back, please."

Ben stood and set the painting on top of the desk, his brow folding into neat, parallel wrinkles. "I'm afraid the money means nothing to me. It's the bridge that's important to me."

Tali was still bewildered. "Are you saying you would like a copy of the painting? Is that what the commission is for, another painting of the bridge?"

"Commission?" He looked confused for a split second before understanding lit his eyes. He shook his head, waving one hand in the air. "No, that was just an excuse. I'm only interested in the bridge."

She blinked, clenching her teeth. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

He sighed, then tapped the bridge painted on the canvas. "This bridge is real, right?"

"Yes, but I don't see why that gives you the right to lie to me about commissioning a painting." 

"Can you tell me where it is?"

"It's just a bridge on my great-grandfather's property! Why are you so hung up on this?" Tali felt the anger bubbling up, ready to boil over.

"And where is your great-grandfather's property?" he asked.

Tali suddenly didn't like where this was going. "Are you seriously asking me this right now? Why do you want to know?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Oh, Natalie, you really don't understand, do you?"

The dam of anger broke. "No, I don't understand. I don't understand why you would buy my painting without my permission, and I don't understand why you would lie about wanting a commission. So I'll take my painting, and I'm going to leave, and we'll be done."

Tali expected him to act angry and was taken aback when he simply closed his eyes and sighed. "I was hoping you would be a bit more cooperative. I'm afraid I can't let you leave."

"Excuse me?" Tali couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I mean just what I said." He stood in front of her, his six-foot frame towering over her. "I'm not letting you leave. Not until you show me the bridge."

Tali took a few steps back, unnerved by the sudden change in attitude. "Wait, you can't just keep me here!"

He pulled his lighter out of his suit pocket and fiddled with it, despite not having a cigarette to light. "You live alone, do you not? And you took the bus to get here, right? So nobody will realize you are gone. You won't even be missed."

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finding her voice. "That's a felony! You can't just hold people against their will!"

He flipped open the lighter, lit it, closed the lid, and did it again. "Apparently I can." He looked past her at the door. "Stan?"

Tali whirled around to see a large, buff man enter the room. 

"Sir?"

Ben waved a hand toward Tali. "Please escort Miss Barbetti to one of the guest rooms. And make sure to lock the door."

"Right away." He took Tali by the elbow. "Come with me."

Tali yanked her arm free. "I can walk by myself." She grabbed her purse off the floor where it had fallen off her lap. She glared at Ben. "Don't think you can get your way just because you have bodyguards on your payroll."

He continued to play with the lighter, the flame flickering for a brief second before being snuffed out again. "I'll give you the night to think it over. We'll leave early tomorrow morning."

Tali was so angry and disgusted that she didn't even bother trying to respond. She left the room in a huff with Stan following close behind.