[ Now it's Cadence's turn to laugh, though hers is all too forced; she places his hand on Clay's arm as if begging him to stop so she can breathe again. ]
Honey, stop, he won't know you're joking--I have to apologize, he really does have a dry sense of humor.
[ The man looks over at Clay with a weak chuckle, looking more concerned about the dark look in his eyes than about any sort of verbal insult. Very quickly he seems to sober up enough to make his excuses, taking one long and inappropriate look at Cadence's cleavage before he scurries back to his wife.
Her "prey" gone, Cadence drops the niceties to glare at Clay. ]
[ Clay's lips curl into a silent snarl at the look he gives to his date's chest, but the lucky bastard gets away. Lucky more, perhaps, that he got away from Cadence rather than facing Clyteus, but regardless he is lucky.
Before he can act any further on that particular impulse, he's drawn to Cadence's less-than-happy stare by her address. His nostrils flare and he doesn't let go of her waist, but rather just looks still-annoyed, but then taken aback. The hand loosens instinctively with a flicker of self-preservation. ]
[ If Cadence's eyes flash dangerously at her client-turned-not-quite-paramour, she's wise enough not to let the wider gallery catch her rage; she grabs his arms as soon as she feels it starts to slip from her waist, outwardly the perfect picture of physical flirtation. She leans in close, using his shoulder as a screen as she hisses at him. ]
That "purveyor of junk bonds" was about to give me some "insider trading" level information on some new stock options for you, you idiot. While he's a washed up hack, he still has old fraternity brothers on the boards of the third and fourth-largest shipping companies on the east coast, and both are eyeing some potential mergers next quarter. But because you were too busy tripping over your own dick in your desperate attempt to insult him and prove you're not getting cucked, I only got half of what I needed. Now I'm going to find some more drunk, old, horny bastards to tease details out from, if anyone else here even has anything of similar value.
[ Her fingers, still lingering on his arm around her waist, dig sharply into his sleeve, enough to feel through the layers of fabric. ]
[ Okay ouch, but he's also kind of into it and that undermines what she's going for ultimately. ]
I am very content with how that played, actually. [ Clyteus' hold on her waist re-tightens, the near-empty glass forgotten where they had sat to follow her lead. He smiles again to match her facade. Cadence's would-be beaux looks to the junk bond asshole and back to his date with increasing skepticism. ]
My funds are fine without you whoring yourself out for more revenue. [ All smiles, he leans into her like whispering into her ear and his other hand finds her waist. The epitome of a happy, lovey couple stepping aside for sweet nothings. ]
Cadence, fuck the bastard; I'm not here for profit. If I have to be here, I would rather enjoy it with you and the open bar than worry about my own jealousy.
[ Cadence is hardly reassured by the bullshit machismo, but there are appearances to be kept, for both her client's and her own reputations among her wider clientele network. Her hand slides up his lapel, curling up his collar until it reaches a sliver of exposed skin; her nails still graze but less harshly this time as she watches him intently. ]
Whoring would imply some inevitable sexual satisfaction for him; I frankly don't appreciate the underestimation of my interpersonal skills. And besides, I thought we agreed this was a work outing. Your books are still a nightmare and an inevitable IRS shitstorm, so you'll need alternate investment portfolios even with the charitable bait and switch.
[ She moves even closer to him, her thigh pressing all-too close to his inseam as she continues to look up at him expectantly. ]
What's worth more: your fortune or your jealous pride?
[ Clay is speechless for a moment, lost to his own inhibitions. Her leg is all but too close, and her hands are on him in such a way that his instinctive, human response is that it is the latter. ]
My fortune. [ He says softly instead, brows furrowed. Why was that answer delayed by a moment? The thought makes him feel uneasy but he slides his hand a bit more behind his back. ]
And I do mean "whoring" to be more than that. It isn't only his potential... sexual satisfaction that would make me jealous. You're more than a one-trick pony when it comes to your talents. [ He kisses her cheek and leans into her. ]
I'll admit my pride if you admit that you enjoy the power of your "interpersonal skills"?
[ It is not a happy smile per se, but it is a satisfied one; it's the safety of knowing that as infuriating as he is, as persistent as he is, he is still largely predictable.
She runs her finger up from the base of his neck to his hairline and back again, following his vertebrae upward. ]
Oh, so I haven't been giving you enough attention then?
[ Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as she accepts the kiss to her cheek, neither moving from nor meeting him. When they reopen there's almost an imperceptible change in her tone, but it's there; slightly softer, with less bite. ]
...Do you think you're capable of admitting it?
[ It's not an answer because of course it's not, but there does seem to be some genuine curiosity, almost amusement, in the way she looks at him. ]
[ He squeezes her waist and grimaces miles into her hairline. A deep sigh comes a after a moment's consideration, and it sounds a bit like a low growl. ]
I am proud of having you at my side and enjoy your company. I don't think of pride as a sin, but I'll admit it all the same.
[ Clay steps back to gauge her response and tilts his head. The jealousy that was warping his face into a sneer has faded; he looks impassive and his brows are knitted with a touch of uncertainty. ] Sufficient?
[ Whatever Cadence finds in his gaze seems to satisfy her well enough; in lieu of her usual mocking, Clay even earns a kiss to his cheek for his troubles. ]
A little antiquated, but it’ll work. You’re just showing your age.
[ She grabs at his bow tie to pull him down closer to her heights, lips grazing his ear. ]
[ Clay chuckles and his chest does some sort of tightening he almost forgot could happen. It makes him wince and he puts it to the back of his mind. With the hand still holding her waist, he pulls Cadence ever so slightly closer. The uncertainty drops from his eyes and he turns toward the kiss and lifts one of his brows. ]
I don’t believe we’ve discussed age actually; always a touchy topic.
if he calls her a cougar he’s going to be a handbag
[ Clay snickers at that and hums with continued amusement. ]
Antiquated is a... an accurate word for me- I’m probably far older than you, but I’ll save that for the second date—
“Clayton!”
[ Clyteus turns and greets a suit with a smile and a nod, but the balding man keeps coming toward the pair. He turns to Cadence before rolling his eyes and makes to kiss her ear affectionately but whispers in it first. He looks about to brace himself for torture as the footsteps reach him. ]
President of Sykes - yes, that Sykes in the portfolio - I have to be nice for a minute.
[ Cadence resists the urge to roll her eyes at his seemingly boundless self-assurance, electing instead to smooth out a now-wrinkled part of his lapel in lieu of a reply.
It’s not an argument she cares to win this time anyway.
Cadence is about to suggest they make the rounds again around the main ballroom, at least before the first item biddings start, when she’s beaten to the punch by the balding executive moving towards them. ]
I’m aware; play nice and take your time.
[ She moves her head towards him as she says it, getting their lips inches apart before gently shoving him back towards his business acquaintance. ]
[ Clyteus is all smiles but they’re strained ones for the executive as he’s pulled from Cadence’s eyes. There’s something in the look he gives them before he goes to shake hands and talk money. Thankfully, after a few moments of faux playful and vaguely threatening banter there’s a mass movement toward the ballroom for the unveiling of items to auction. A final handshake and an offer for golf which Clay accepts - without irony - quite gladly. A sport he can actually get behind playing. It involves lots of standing in sunlight and smacking things with a metal object. ]
Anything interesting? [ He asks quietly into Cadence’s ear when he finds her and comes behind her to sit in a foldable empty chair. The two beside her were- irritatingly noticeably- filled before the dragon found her after getting separated by the throng. ]
[ 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?
Oh, I do rather like horses. [ Clay snorts with derision. Animals, in fact, didn't like him - shocking. Except perhaps snakes - but his cobra Rachmiel was many years ago now. Far before they became popular as "weirdo" pets and before aquariums. ]
I think so. I'll be golfing next month it seems, so I'll have to research conversation to keep for a couple of hours. ...Did you get me a flute?
[ He frowns rather petulantly, looking around for another caterer who has a full tray. His eyes catch the Ming dynasty vase she aforementioned, so he's slower to bring his attention back to her. ]
You must be a delight during the charity polo matches. A bunch of panicked, wide-eyed animals and you in the middle with a mint Julip.
[ Cadence also lacks an affinity for animals; most land-based frighten at seeing something so tied to the sea on land, and those of the sea are just aware of enough of what she is to maintain a respectful distance, only coming if called.
She doesn’t quite laugh at his petulance, but a sharp breath and a curling smile is probably the best he’ll get from her tonight regardless. ]
I didn’t know how long you’d be. But it’s easy enough to get another round, [ She gestures to a male caterer she’s caught staring, reeling him in towards them. ] see?
[ She takes two by the stem, and nods the man off, the slight glaze over his eyes lifting as he leaves her influence. ]
[ Clay smirks, appreciating the dry humor in her response immensely. He responds as she starts to summon the caterer. ]
Ah well, I bet on hockey rather than ponies for a reason. [ His fingers brush hers when he takes the flute. ] Why yes, I do see. Now that alone almost makes you worth the expense, dear.
[ He clinks her glass against his, looking over her with what looks like affection. But he must be thinking about the upcoming round of golf again. Quickly, he jumps to another topic of conversation. ]
Do you play? Or any other sports? [ The smile is hidden behind a sip of champagne. ] ...Swimming?
[ She gives him an unimpressed and slightly withering look for the poor joke, sipping her drink without breaking eye contact. ]
Hilarious, really. No, I’ve never been terribly into any sports.
[ Well that’s not strictly true; she found wrestling and discus amusing when she was younger, and she’s always enjoyed watching sailing. But that was hardly recreational back then, and she’s not looking for more of his sea jokes. ]
But if you’ll recall, most sports weren’t really proper for a lady until recently. Nowadays it seems like every moron thinks he can impress you with court side seats. Hard to say what’s more annoying.
So you are older, it seems. If that’s recent. The question is how long you’ve been singing, isn’t it?
[ Clay smiles thoughtfully, and tried to place her. Based on that statement he puts her back at least a couple hundred years. ...He’s done much worse. He can take the sting of saltwater if it means not feeling ancient.
Another sip of champagne as he looks her over but breaks eye contact first to eye a passing plate of hors d'oeuvres. It stinks of raw fish and he flits back to Cadence. ]
No sports then. What do you like to do outside of... work?
[ She takes another sip as she pointedly refuses to answer implied question. ]
Long enough. And please, you have to have several hundred years under your belt as well. Some of those land deeds were older than the Mayflower.
[ She watches the tray pass by as well; she debated taking some since she’s no hunting this evening, but it’d basically be empty calories. ]
Like I have a wealth of free time; my clients’ antics tend to make long days for me. [ A pointed look. ] And I believe you’re already familiar with my other major time commitment.
[ He grins and moves closer to her by allowing a person with a walker to pass behind him. The assistive device has him actually moving again to give them room and he sighs. ]
My family may have been pilgrims; you don’t know.
[ At that moment he looks down and realizes how close he had gotten and clears his throat before he motions that he’s going toward a piece of art across the room, his free fingers grazing her wrist as he walks toward it. ]
I’m sure you make time for yourself. I imagine you are a fan of something when you are between meals, work, and sleep. [ Sirens sleep, right? Why didn’t that come up in his research? ]
People manage much shorter lives than us. It’s actually impressive, honestly.
[ He's still digging it seems, trying to get a nugget or two of her backstory, or at least interpersonal information she's not willing to concede. Preferring not to lose out on his behaving by throwing him a defensive verbal barb, she elects instead to go with her other default distracting tactic. ]
Yes, I do enjoy some other recreational activities...
[ She slides one hand underneath his jacket to press against his chest, quirking one eyebrow with a knowing look. Her other hand rests again on his neck, runs a line back and worth where spine meets skull. ]
Are you set on sticking around to win that vase, or...?
when u see a typo in the last post and now its fate is sealed
[ Clay knows it’s evasive. He’s very aware, in the back of his mind. However, he's also is a strong martini and three glasses of champagne deep with not much else on his fire-filled stomach. Even without the alcohol, it usually doesn’t take much to get Clyteus to bend to carnal desire.
There’s a dramatic sort of stall as he looks toward the vase with consideration. A small sigh of defeat. ]
I think I’ll survive without it. I believe there must be a hotel nearby with vacancy, if you want to accompany me?
[ A smile that shivers at her touch just a bit. He looks down and meets her eyes and feels the need to make sure she agrees, despite his immunity to her charms. ] ...All part of your compensated responsibilities tonight, of course.
[ The double pat she gives his lapel is only slightly condescending. ]
Good man. [ Man. Lizard. Whatever. ] That sounds great; I'm partial to The St. Regis or Lowell myself.
[ She's trying to make out what exactly that look is for, why he seems so intent; however, uncomfortable with examining it too thoroughly, she labels it as a softer variation on his already self-imposed infatuation with her. He'll learn, as they all do...it's simply a matter of how much she has to double down on that lesson.
In the meantime though, why not have a little fun? As a treat. ]
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hope you have enough paper
Honey, stop, he won't know you're joking--I have to apologize, he really does have a dry sense of humor.
[ The man looks over at Clay with a weak chuckle, looking more concerned about the dark look in his eyes than about any sort of verbal insult. Very quickly he seems to sober up enough to make his excuses, taking one long and inappropriate look at Cadence's cleavage before he scurries back to his wife.
Her "prey" gone, Cadence drops the niceties to glare at Clay. ]
What the fuck was that?
i'll find a fresh notebook.
Before he can act any further on that particular impulse, he's drawn to Cadence's less-than-happy stare by her address. His nostrils flare and he doesn't let go of her waist, but rather just looks still-annoyed, but then taken aback. The hand loosens instinctively with a flicker of self-preservation. ]
What?
you may want several.
That "purveyor of junk bonds" was about to give me some "insider trading" level information on some new stock options for you, you idiot. While he's a washed up hack, he still has old fraternity brothers on the boards of the third and fourth-largest shipping companies on the east coast, and both are eyeing some potential mergers next quarter. But because you were too busy tripping over your own dick in your desperate attempt to insult him and prove you're not getting cucked, I only got half of what I needed. Now I'm going to find some more drunk, old, horny bastards to tease details out from, if anyone else here even has anything of similar value.
[ Her fingers, still lingering on his arm around her waist, dig sharply into his sleeve, enough to feel through the layers of fabric. ]
Are you happy with yourself?
no subject
I am very content with how that played, actually. [ Clyteus' hold on her waist re-tightens, the near-empty glass forgotten where they had sat to follow her lead. He smiles again to match her facade. Cadence's would-be beaux looks to the junk bond asshole and back to his date with increasing skepticism. ]
My funds are fine without you whoring yourself out for more revenue. [ All smiles, he leans into her like whispering into her ear and his other hand finds her waist. The epitome of a happy, lovey couple stepping aside for sweet nothings. ]
Cadence, fuck the bastard; I'm not here for profit. If I have to be here, I would rather enjoy it with you and the open bar than worry about my own jealousy.
no subject
Whoring would imply some inevitable sexual satisfaction for him; I frankly don't appreciate the underestimation of my interpersonal skills. And besides, I thought we agreed this was a work outing. Your books are still a nightmare and an inevitable IRS shitstorm, so you'll need alternate investment portfolios even with the charitable bait and switch.
[ She moves even closer to him, her thigh pressing all-too close to his inseam as she continues to look up at him expectantly. ]
What's worth more: your fortune or your jealous pride?
no subject
My fortune. [ He says softly instead, brows furrowed. Why was that answer delayed by a moment? The thought makes him feel uneasy but he slides his hand a bit more behind his back. ]
And I do mean "whoring" to be more than that. It isn't only his potential... sexual satisfaction that would make me jealous. You're more than a one-trick pony when it comes to your talents. [ He kisses her cheek and leans into her. ]
I'll admit my pride if you admit that you enjoy the power of your "interpersonal skills"?
hi i'm soft for them
She runs her finger up from the base of his neck to his hairline and back again, following his vertebrae upward. ]
Oh, so I haven't been giving you enough attention then?
[ Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as she accepts the kiss to her cheek, neither moving from nor meeting him. When they reopen there's almost an imperceptible change in her tone, but it's there; slightly softer, with less bite. ]
...Do you think you're capable of admitting it?
[ It's not an answer because of course it's not, but there does seem to be some genuine curiosity, almost amusement, in the way she looks at him. ]
i had no idea! alert the media
I am proud of having you at my side and enjoy your company. I don't think of pride as a sin, but I'll admit it all the same.
[ Clay steps back to gauge her response and tilts his head. The jealousy that was warping his face into a sneer has faded; he looks impassive and his brows are knitted with a touch of uncertainty. ] Sufficient?
no subject
A little antiquated, but it’ll work. You’re just showing your age.
[ She grabs at his bow tie to pull him down closer to her heights, lips grazing his ear. ]
And yes, I very much enjoy it.
no subject
I don’t believe we’ve discussed age actually; always a touchy topic.
if he calls her a cougar he’s going to be a handbag
It is...especially for women.
[ And by her dangerously light tone, also for men who want their evenings to remain pleasant. ]
oh no instead let’s have him be smug
Antiquated is a... an accurate word for me- I’m probably far older than you, but I’ll save that for the second date—
“Clayton!”
[ Clyteus turns and greets a suit with a smile and a nod, but the balding man keeps coming toward the pair. He turns to Cadence before rolling his eyes and makes to kiss her ear affectionately but whispers in it first. He looks about to brace himself for torture as the footsteps reach him. ]
President of Sykes - yes, that Sykes in the portfolio - I have to be nice for a minute.
no subject
It’s not an argument she cares to win this time anyway.
Cadence is about to suggest they make the rounds again around the main ballroom, at least before the first item biddings start, when she’s beaten to the punch by the balding executive moving towards them. ]
I’m aware; play nice and take your time.
[ She moves her head towards him as she says it, getting their lips inches apart before gently shoving him back towards his business acquaintance. ]
no subject
Anything interesting? [ He asks quietly into Cadence’s ear when he finds her and comes behind her to sit in a foldable empty chair. The two beside her were- irritatingly noticeably- filled before the dragon found her after getting separated by the throng. ]
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?
oh no i got them feelings
I think so. I'll be golfing next month it seems, so I'll have to research conversation to keep for a couple of hours. ...Did you get me a flute?
[ He frowns rather petulantly, looking around for another caterer who has a full tray. His eyes catch the Ming dynasty vase she aforementioned, so he's slower to bring his attention back to her. ]
welcome to the party bucko
[ Cadence also lacks an affinity for animals; most land-based frighten at seeing something so tied to the sea on land, and those of the sea are just aware of enough of what she is to maintain a respectful distance, only coming if called.
She doesn’t quite laugh at his petulance, but a sharp breath and a curling smile is probably the best he’ll get from her tonight regardless. ]
I didn’t know how long you’d be. But it’s easy enough to get another round, [ She gestures to a male caterer she’s caught staring, reeling him in towards them. ] see?
[ She takes two by the stem, and nods the man off, the slight glaze over his eyes lifting as he leaves her influence. ]
Cheers: to a good time on the green.
no subject
Ah well, I bet on hockey rather than ponies for a reason. [ His fingers brush hers when he takes the flute. ] Why yes, I do see. Now that alone almost makes you worth the expense, dear.
[ He clinks her glass against his, looking over her with what looks like affection. But he must be thinking about the upcoming round of golf again. Quickly, he jumps to another topic of conversation. ]
Do you play? Or any other sports? [ The smile is hidden behind a sip of champagne. ] ...Swimming?
no subject
Hilarious, really. No, I’ve never been terribly into any sports.
[ Well that’s not strictly true; she found wrestling and discus amusing when she was younger, and she’s always enjoyed watching sailing. But that was hardly recreational back then, and she’s not looking for more of his sea jokes. ]
But if you’ll recall, most sports weren’t really proper for a lady until recently. Nowadays it seems like every moron thinks he can impress you with court side seats. Hard to say what’s more annoying.
no subject
[ Clay smiles thoughtfully, and tried to place her. Based on that statement he puts her back at least a couple hundred years. ...He’s done much worse. He can take the sting of saltwater if it means not feeling ancient.
Another sip of champagne as he looks her over but breaks eye contact first to eye a passing plate of hors d'oeuvres. It stinks of raw fish and he flits back to Cadence. ]
No sports then. What do you like to do outside of... work?
no subject
Long enough. And please, you have to have several hundred years under your belt as well. Some of those land deeds were older than the Mayflower.
[ She watches the tray pass by as well; she debated taking some since she’s no hunting this evening, but it’d basically be empty calories. ]
Like I have a wealth of free time; my clients’ antics tend to make long days for me. [ A pointed look. ] And I believe you’re already familiar with my other major time commitment.
no subject
My family may have been pilgrims; you don’t know.
[ At that moment he looks down and realizes how close he had gotten and clears his throat before he motions that he’s going toward a piece of art across the room, his free fingers grazing her wrist as he walks toward it. ]
I’m sure you make time for yourself. I imagine you are a fan of something when you are between meals, work, and sleep. [ Sirens sleep, right? Why didn’t that come up in his research? ]
People manage much shorter lives than us. It’s actually impressive, honestly.
no subject
Yes, I do enjoy some other recreational activities...
[ She slides one hand underneath his jacket to press against his chest, quirking one eyebrow with a knowing look. Her other hand rests again on his neck, runs a line back and worth where spine meets skull. ]
Are you set on sticking around to win that vase, or...?
when u see a typo in the last post and now its fate is sealed
There’s a dramatic sort of stall as he looks toward the vase with consideration. A small sigh of defeat. ]
I think I’ll survive without it. I believe there must be a hotel nearby with vacancy, if you want to accompany me?
[ A smile that shivers at her touch just a bit. He looks down and meets her eyes and feels the need to make sure she agrees, despite his immunity to her charms. ] ...All part of your compensated responsibilities tonight, of course.
no!! that's the thing i'm sensitive about!!
Good man. [ Man. Lizard. Whatever. ] That sounds great; I'm partial to The St. Regis or Lowell myself.
[ She's trying to make out what exactly that look is for, why he seems so intent; however, uncomfortable with examining it too thoroughly, she labels it as a softer variation on his already self-imposed infatuation with her. He'll learn, as they all do...it's simply a matter of how much she has to double down on that lesson.
In the meantime though, why not have a little fun? As a treat. ]
i didn’t know you were so sensitive!!
jokes on you: i'm always sensitive