Typically, Simon only dealt in paintings. They were easier to handle, easier to stash in the back of a truck. Sculptures always required so much extra labor that he never found them worth it to take or to sell. But this piece had been whispered to him from various contacts and once he had seen it in person, he knew it had to be his.
Partly to turn a profit. A few years and it would surely appreciate in his favor. The artist was new, freshly out of school, the only reason he was able to snag such a good deal.
But it would require machinery to get it into his house. Simon did think he might be able to lift it with another of similar strength to himself, but that would have to be done without mortals present.
This was on his calendar before Rose had forced an introduction with Jeffrey. Was it apt that he could not get the undead off his mind? She had chosen well, but Simon had not tried to contact him since that night. Now it was a few days later and he was trying to think if the statue that was sitting in the entrance to his home was a good enough excuse to invite him back over.
Simon had been true to his word. There was the duffel bag still upstairs, full of even more clothes that might suit Jeffrey's size and style, though that was hard to judge having only met him once. A list was made of those he knew who might be looking for personal chefs. But he hadn't attempted to send any of this to Jeffrey. As he stared up to the statue, an abstract shape with various metallic colors, he knew this was as good a time as any.
The best part of his line of work was that he set his own schedule. Once this statue had been delivered early in the evening, he had no other plans. He might have gone to paint, but phone in hand, the itch to know more about Jeffrey has him pressing the call button.
He could have texted, but he never feels text can communicate tone. Before Jeff can speak, Simon is talking, "Are you strong? I don't mean your muscles, your body doesn't scream gym goer, I mean your undead strength."
@geminiundead
