Within 1 week of searching I had found it, it was absolutely perfect. High vaulted ceilings, with the original wooden beams exposed with generously placed skylights accentuating every corner of the room. I hugged Gloria in almost childlike excitement. I purchased the building and immediately placed an ad in the paper for an assistant. Again the universe blessed me with James. A recent graduate of UCLA with an art degree. He was straight, I was ok with that. After all we would have one thing in common. It wasn’t that though, it was an uncanny chemistry we had. We worked feverishly day and night. It had to be right, perfect. Nothing less would do. No this was no fly-by-night gallery. This was the Better Porter gallery. It would be nothing less than the best. I could feel it. Something was happening, something big and beyond my control. Little did I know that the gallery was just scenery in the background of the painting. The force leading me since the beginning was getting so strong I could now almost physically feel it. Bette Porter, letting something else control her??? I had to laugh even at myself. After 3 long months, the opening was only 4 days away. I managed to pull every string I had in NY and LA and secured some of the most intriguing up and coming new artists. The publicity was taken care of, the caterers were ready, the gallery was nothing short of magnificent.  I was running on pure adrenaline and I knew I need to rest. I took the next 2 days and did just that. James was flabberghasted when I told him we were done. I promised him a healthy bonus upon a timely completion. I surprised him with 2 days off paid as well. After 2 days off, I was ready. I never felt more ready for anything in my entire life. This was a sink or swim situation. Tonight had to be a success. But somehow, I wasn’t nervous, I felt no stress. I coasted through the day as if it were a dream. 7:00pm came and I stood with James on one side and Gloria on the other welcoming the guests one by one. I smiled, I shook hands and I charmed. James and Gloria the perfectly complimenting me. We welcomed such visitors as the mayor, several Directors slash art conneseiurs, lawyers, doctors and budding new artists. Everything seemed so surreal. Sure I had been through several opening nights for other galleries. But this was MY gallery. MY dream. Everything was just as I had imagined it. The guests, the art, the lighting, the catering, the wineJust when I thought everything was as it should be, I felt something tugging at my soul again. “It’s not quite right yet. Something is out of place.” Then like a ton of bricks, it hit me,  I found it. And it was indeed out of place

TBC or not? What do you think? Want more?