He doesn't see her

Matt hurried back with both two glasses of wine and a full but uncorked bottle that had cost him another twenty buck tip... only to find the gallery empty.

Fuck. Getting her drunk had seemed important but he never should have left her.

Then he heard a giggle behind him.

"Ohmigod, you are so cute. You really thought I'd left."

He spun to see Mrs. Fellers standing in a doorway. She giggled again. "I confess I was looking around at some of the so-called art. Can't say I really like it."

He was tempted to suggest something about degenerate art but Mrs. Fellers wasn't stupid. Very likely she'd recognize the reference to the Nazi crusade against what they called 'degenerate art'. So he just smiled. "I guess we just don't have the sophisticated tastes other people have. Just as well because I don't think this wine is actually California's greatest vintage." He handed over a glass.

She inspected the bottle. "Two buck Chuck. Really?"

"It cost me twenty."

"You got robbed. Now, back to my question. Tell me about your business model. How do you reach your customers. What sort of niche do you see yourself filling."

Matt took a deep breath and began his round-about path toward explaining his streaming empire... while doing his best to sound all businesslike, as if he really didn't enjoy fucking hot high school girls and being seen as the ultimate cool guy by all of the other guys who wished they could figure out how to talk all of the local girls into taking their clothes off.

He thought he'd approached the matter carefully enough until Mrs. Fellers choked on the slug of wine she'd just partially swallowed. "Wait a second, you're doing porn?"