Tempo Read Online Free PDF Page A

that your designs are original.”
    “Realistically, nothing I do is original. I use paint produced by companies. I purchase preprinted fabrics by the bolt. Carpets are weaved by artists or mass produced. Nothing is mine; it’s the way I mix and blend these items that makes the space unique. People pay for my unique perspective. Would I steal a design from a book and sell it to a client as if it were my own? Absolutely not! Can I get inspiration from looking at the pages? You bet!”
    Pondering my explanation, he tilts his head and nods. “What’s the separate portfolio about?”
    Pulling out the red folder, I set it on top of the stack. “Now this folder is my book of dreams, each page is the perfect design for me.” Opening it to the first page, I smile. “I love the clean lines of contemporary design; and this kitchen is the perfect example. The stainless steel appliances and quartz counters are sleek and sophisticated. The blues, greens and ocher in these hand-painted glass mosaic tiles makes for a beautiful backsplash. The dark bamboo floors are rich and are easy to maintain. As a bonus they are a renewable resource. The cabinetry is simple yet stylish and hides frequently used appliances. This keeps the counters free of clutter.  I don’t like clutter.”
    John wheels his cart towards us and offers us a drink. I am having such a nice time that I hardly notice the glass of champagne he places in my hand.
    Going from page to page I share my dreams with a complete stranger.
    He looks through the folder as if searching for something.
    “Why don’t you have a master suite?”
    “That’s a good question. I don’t really have an answer , but my best guess is that a master suite is the intimate place shared by two people. I would want to take my partners wishes into consideration when I design this space. I currently have no partner so it’s irrelevant at this point in my life.”
    “No boyfriend, fiancé, dating buddy?” he asks.
    Shocked by his personal interrogation, I open my mouth to speak, but only a stutter breaks through. “N-no, I don’t have anyone.” Looking up at the seatbelt indicator I see that I am free to move about the cabin. I fidget with my seatbelt trying to release it. It pops open. I quickly stand and make my way to the bathroom. I feel light headed and dizzy, no doubt the result of too many glasses of champagne. In the restroom, I look myself over in the mirror and splash my face with water. I just visually undressed a man I don’t know and I shared some intimate details of my life with him. The girl looking back seems happy in spite of the mans intrusion into her personal life. Reliving the easy banter I was having with Michael I commit myself to enjoying the remainder of the flight. Smiling at the girl in the mirror, I decide that it’s time for her to move on with her life.  As I leave the bathroom, the smart girl whispers: I am so ready to move on! Thinking I may have lost my mind I head back to my seat. Sliding into 3B, Michael asks if I’m all right.
    “Perfect, I couldn’t be better,” smiling like a kid in a candy store.
    John stops by to see if we need anything, feeling a little chilled I ask for a blanket. As he turns to leave, I stop him to ask one more question.
    “After several glasses of champagne, and no breakfast, is there anything you can bring me to snack on?”
    John looks at me and replies, “I have warm nuts.”
    He obviously didn’t see the humor in his statement. Unable to control myself, I laugh so hard that I snort which makes me laugh even harder. Looking around I can see that the passengers in front and behind my seat are also laughing. Looking over at Michael, he is barely able to control himself. Glancing up, John shakes his head and leaves to retrieve my blanket and nuts.
    Fed and warm, I curl up on my side, and look at Michael. His profile is perfect; his lips are full and kissable. I thought his eyes were brown, but I can see now that they