Her Ruthless Russian

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Vlad Karev sipped his morning coffee as he leaned lazily against the bus stop shelter across from the O’Connor Fine Arts Gallery. He certainly wasn’t expecting the first exhibition he saw to be going on outside of the building.

“And I’m telling you I want to speak to your supervisor,” a very feminine voice insisted. Even from where he stood, she sounded at the limits of her patience. Vlad guessed the dispute had been going on long before he arrived.

“I am the supervisor!” the man returned vehemently. “I drive, and I supervise! Anything you have to say, you say to me!”

A moving van was parked in the Gallery’s loading bay with the ramp down. Two men were in the process of unloading a large, bubble-wrapped frame from the trailer. A third man stood in the alley arguing with the redheaded woman carrying a clipboard. Vlad watched as the woman took a tentative step back when the man arguing waith her leaned toward her.

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