"I don't know how you can work down here and not get turned on by these things," Donna exclaimed, running her hand across the taut, marble buttocks of the nearest piece.
"You realize they're just statues, don't you, Don?" Julie chuckled, pushing her friend's hand from their newest perch. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch them?"
"Sorry, Jules, but they look so real, and damn if it hasn't been a while since I had me some nice ass in these hands," she declared, her palms drifting just above the ample buttocks of "Apollo Chasing Daphne."
"C'mon, let's go before you defile any more of the gods," Julie admonished half-heartedly. She turned to pick up her coat and backpack, flipping her desk lamp off before shuffling out of the darkened room behind her giggling friend.
At dinner Donna grilled Julie about life in the city. She asked a million questions and Julie managed to evade actually answering most of them until they go to: "And what about your sex life?"
"What sex life?" Julie mumbled back over a forkful of Cobb salad. She stuffed the lettuce into her mouth before she was forced to elaborate at that very second. She chewed thoughtfully as long as possible, Donna waiting patiently as she sipped her glass of Riesling. Julie rolled her eyes as she swallowed, saying, "What? I have no time for a life least of all a sex life."
"Please, Jules, how long have I known you? Forever?" Donna exaggerated, flipping her hands in the air. "Ever since the day we met you've been saying you're too busy for a little nookie."
Julie flushed red. "Call it something else, Don!"
"Fine, how about the horizontal bop? The good ole slap and tickle? Perhaps-"
"Shhh, someone will hear you," Julie hushed, eyes darting around at the other people in the restaurant. "Just call it sex, for goodness sakes, you've got me use to that word after eight years!"
"One day you're going to do it, you know, Jules, and you're going to love it so much you'll never come up for air," Donna prophesized. "Until then you can hide in your little hole in the basement of the museum. Mark my words, though, someone is going to find you down there and he's going to show you what you've been missing all these years."
"Dear God, I really hope not," Julie groaned. "All I need is one more thing to worry about."
Donna let a great guffaw out as she leaned back in her chair. "Girl, you really are a trip. Sex gets your mind off of things you've been worrying about."
"Well, right now, can we can our minds off of the sex?" Julie beseeched.
The rest of the conversation over dinner consisted of catching up on old college friends, old times, and what they were doing that was new. Donna was now a magazine editor in Chicago after six years of being some dick-head's assistant she had plunged head first into something she really loved. The same could be said about Julie. Having been an assistant researcher at a small museum in California, she had applied for a project manager at The Metropolitan Museum of Art and found herself in the position three months later. It was a dream come true for the Art History major who would rather spend time in the collections than with real people.
When dinner was done, the women promised to keep in touch. Donna handed over her business card and Julie scratched out her newest email address on the back of an old receipt. They hugged and parted ways, Julie rushing to catch a cab that would take her to the tiny apartment she had managed to find for herself.
The next day, down in the basement, scratching pieces of information on the yellow legal pad set before her, Julie could not help but feel a little lonely as she remembered her years spent in college, fruitless in the area of dating. She had been so caught up in getting grades that would provide money for her studies, she really had no time to focus on anything else. Donna had been her outlet to the world beyond the classroom. They had been roommates from the very beginning to the brilliant end, managing to keep in touch even when they graduated and separated to different sides of the continent.
Sighing, Julie shook her head, trying to clear it of the regrets that threatened to overpower her thoughts about plaster and conservation. Pushing away from her low, cherry wood desk, she swiveled her chair toward the statues that loomed behind her. Three of the hundreds of carved majesties had been carted into her basement office for her perusal. She had been trying to decide which pieces to display in the upcoming exhibition.
Her eyes drifted to the statue of Apollo with his rippling muscles, long limbs, and incredibly life like facial features. He really was a beautiful statue, carved from one solid piece, his skin seemed to ripple when the dim light shone down on it.
"If I put you out, we'll have to definitely put Daphne on display," Julie said, breaking the heavy silence of the room. She tapped her finger against her lips, standing to make circles around the figure. "But if I put Daphne out there I have to take Neptune down, won't I?"
She stopped in front of the sculpture, hands settled firmly on her slight hips. Her eyes roamed over the finely carved piece of marble, tracing the curve of Apollo's ankle as it met his shin and bulging calves, moving higher to his well defined thighs, even higher to the flaccid manhood that dangled between his legs. Her eyes fixated on that piece of marble as she felt a flush steal over her cheeks.
Her assistant came trudging into the large office space, banging the door loudly as he stumbled down the low steps. "Morning, Julie."
Julie rushed back to her desk, trying to hide her flushed face as she scribbled things down on her legal pad. "Good morning, Ben, how's it going?"
"Terrible," was the answer. "My dad got in a bad car accident this morning. I was wondering if we don't have too much to do today, maybe I can go home a little early?"
"Oh my goodness, Ben," Julie exclaimed, forgetting about her flush, she jumped from her chair. "Just go. I can take care of things here today . You need to be with your family right now."
"Are you sure, Julie?" he asked, already slipping back into the jacket he had just took off. "I really appreciate this. I'll check in with you and let you know how things are going."
"Yes, please. Now, go," she ordered, pushing him out the door. Leaning back against the door, she muttered, "Christ, Jules, you idiot, you're not Superwoman."