[ Surprising herself slightly, Cadence feels the urge to hang back rather than renew her mission to tease out more trade secrets from old, drunk blowhards. (Besides, the night is still young, she tells herself.) She indulges the feeling, taking a complimentary champagne flute from an aspiring actor-turned-caterer and retreating back to stand against a large, white pillar at the edge of the main ballroom.
She’s loathe to admit it, but the look suits him; for all his grimacing and whining, it’s clear how he’s amassed and more importantly kept the fortune she’s now saddled with saving from international tax authorities. What’s she’s typically (and for the most part rightfully) chalked up as bravado is clearly a clear, ruthless competence she can appreciate; even without reading lips he’s clearly controlling the conversation, securing what she’d been pressing him on for half the night. Scanning her eyes over the clean lines of his suit, the way that collar cuts a sharp, parallel line with his jaw, also doesn’t hurt the view...but even complimenting him in her head feels like a betrayal of her principles, and she swallows the remaining half-glass of champagne in one gulf in compensation.
Luckily, she doesn’t have to sit with that thought too long before he rejoins her. She takes the continued physical proximity with a fairly calm indifference, leaning out for a moment to hand her now empty glass back to another caterer. ]
Nothing too impressive: a couple high-priced 19th pastoral and equine painting, a couple antique jade lion sculptures, and a few Ming Dynasty vases. Have a nice chat?
no subject
She’s loathe to admit it, but the look suits him; for all his grimacing and whining, it’s clear how he’s amassed and more importantly kept the fortune she’s now saddled with saving from international tax authorities. What’s she’s typically (and for the most part rightfully) chalked up as bravado is clearly a clear, ruthless competence she can appreciate; even without reading lips he’s clearly controlling the conversation, securing what she’d been pressing him on for half the night. Scanning her eyes over the clean lines of his suit, the way that collar cuts a sharp, parallel line with his jaw, also doesn’t hurt the view...but even complimenting him in her head feels like a betrayal of her principles, and she swallows the remaining half-glass of champagne in one gulf in compensation.
Luckily, she doesn’t have to sit with that thought too long before he rejoins her. She takes the continued physical proximity with a fairly calm indifference, leaning out for a moment to hand her now empty glass back to another caterer. ]
Nothing too impressive: a couple high-priced 19th pastoral and equine painting, a couple antique jade lion sculptures, and a few Ming Dynasty vases. Have a nice chat?