Back downstairs, Evan went to get dressed but was stopped by Linda. "Leave them off. I like looking at your naked body," she said.
"But, the food will be here any minute," Evan protested.
"Then be glad I didn't make you drive like that to go get it!" she countered. She made no effort to get dressed either.
She went and sat down on the couch; Evan followed behind her. She idly began flipping through Evan's sketchbook again.
"Evan, your skill is amazing. Have you ever thought of doing work like this professionally?"
Evan laughed. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'Starving artist?'" he retorted. Linda returned the laugh.
"I'm serious. You have incredible skill here. What mediums do you work in?" she asked.
"I sketch in charcoal, I paint with watercolor, and tattoos, of course."
"You need a studio that you can work out of," Linda mused. She seemed to be saying it more to herself than Evan, but Evan responded anyway.
"Ma'am, I make $7.75 an hour. I have shit for credit because of a bunch of bills I racked up while living with my ex-girlfriend and while I was in rehab after. I can barely afford to put change in a parking meter in front of a professional studio."
Linda dismissed his objection with a wave. "I realize all that," she said, "but there are options out there..."
She was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing.
Linda stood up and headed for the door. Evan frantically shouted, "Ma'am! You're still naked!"
Linda acted as if she hadn't heard him and continued to the door. Evan grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and placed it over his crotch.
She opened the door and exposed her nude body to a late twenties Asian guy holding a brown paper bag. He didn't so much as glance at her body.
"Good evening, Ms. Andrews. The total came to $32.88."
He ripped off the credit card receipt from the bag and handed it to her with a pen. Linda took them and placed the receipt against the open door to sign the slip and write in the driver's tip. Evan watched to see if the driver would check out Linda's ass while her back was turned, but he didn't so much as glance at her. He actually seemed mildly bored.
"Thanks, Jeff," Linda said, turning back to him and taking the food. He smiled, thanked her, and left. Evan didn't know it, but Jeff was quite a regular to both Linda's house and, only slightly less regularly, to her bedroom. He was very good in the sack. She, for her part, was an EXCELLENT tipper.
Linda set the bag down on the kitchen table and removed the various containers. "I got you General Tso's chicken. I hope that's ok. They have AWESOME General's chicken."
"Yes, fine thanks," Evan responded, pulling a chair up to the table.