I grabbed my things and made sure to call Kim back before I left the room.

“Are you waiting for me inside the limo again?” I asked her light-heartedly. I was calling her on her cell phone.

“Not today, honey, I’m back at the office,” she told me. “But you’re a big boy, you can handle it by yourself. And I’ll see you guys later on tonight.”

I smiled. At least she wasn’t taking things personal.

I said, “About yesterday…”

She cut me off with her response. “Don’t even worry about it. I understand.”

Do you? I asked myself. I still felt guilty about turning her down, but I wasn’t going to be a part of a science baby.

“I’ll see you later on tonight then,” I told her.

“Yeah, we’ll talk tonight.”

I ARRIVED AT the Museum of Chicago, a tall stone building that reminded me of ancient Rome and the many other aging buildings of art and culture. It had the high ceilings, archways, and intricate stone designs that were rarely done anymore. Modern architecture liked to deal more with shapes, colors, and different materials. But the old-school stone look was always classic to me. I’d take an old stone place over a colorful modern place any day of the week. So I walked around and felt good in there.

“Terrance Mitchell,” a woman’s voice greeted me. I turned and faced Paula Robinson, a makeup artist I hadn’t been around in years. She had her hand extended toward me, wearing the color of the day, basic white. She looked damned good, too, with a wife-beater tank top popping out against her flawless brown skin.

I smiled and took her hand.

“What has it been, eight years since I seen you last?” I asked her.

“Yeah, at the old BET studios in D.C. I did your makeup for the Tavis Smiley show.”

I looked at her again, and was amazed. Paula had to be at least fifty, but she looked thirty-five, if not younger. She had toned up her muscles with a flat belly and everything.

I said, “Are you sure you’re only doing makeup? Did they bring you in here to take some healthy, cancer-free shots, too?”

She laughed and smacked my arm. “I see you still got that sharp tongue of yours. But yeah, they are gonna let me do a few shots.”

“So who have you been working with lately? You still independent?” I asked her. I knew she had stopped working for BET, but that was the last time I heard from her.

“Yeah, I’m still independent, but I’ve mainly been working with my niece. We’re getting ready to bust her out of the ranks. She’s really gonna be something.”

She said that with real gusto, but I had heard it all before. You can’t imagine how many family members had high hopes for some cutey in the family that they felt should be taking pictures for a living. Seeing it is believing it, so I just nodded to her.