cold-hearted.

––

“Stirred, not shaken.” 

Rosellini had spotted Claudine across the club, a beacon of platinum hair twisted into a French coil at the nape of her neck. Unsurprised, but rather––opportunistically pleased––to see the spot next to her vacant, Nick had risen with his whiskey in hand and crossed the establishment, glittering with gorgeous women and expensive clientele, to occupy it. Claudine’s vicinity was, as ever, electric; her blue eyes glowing beneath the moody lustre of the club. His gaze flickers between Claudine and the bartender, waiting as if on tenterhooks for his next cue. “That’s still how you take it, isn’t it?” 

That charismatic––some Republicans would counter, sleazy––grin unfurls across his face, as patriotic as Don McLean crooning American pie. Nick lounges in the seat beside her, one knee strewn suavely over the other, slacks freshly laundered. “We’ll see,” he quips. “Where’s Mrs. Bannister? Or have you given him the night off?” 

The presence of the Mayor provoked Claudine to raise a brow. There was no way she was surprised about running into him, although, she was certainly amused. They saw each other all day, every day, and still they managed to rub shoulders after hours. It was no fault of their own, but New York’s high society wasn’t quite as large as it seemed.

“Of course it is. Shaken martinis get diluted too quickly.” With a shrug of her shoulders, the blonde watched as the bartender slid her fresh drink towards her, the crystal glass glimmering under the light. Nick, at times, was a complete nightmare to work for, yet his charm was intoxicating — obnoxiously so. In a way, she considered him a friend... after all, they were a cunning team. “He’s probably in the VIP section stuffing a few hundreds down a dancer’s thong. Don’t know, don’t care.” She chuckled at the thought for a moment before her gaze settled back on her boss. “How’s Genevieve? I take it this isn’t quite her scene?”

He was definitely a face that could blend in without much of a problem, especially around here. Not much was needed to blend in, just a face that looked like he knew what he was doing. Gentille Fille was a good place to do what he wanted, without the repercussions of anything. His fingers tapped on the glass of his drink, “Pleasure, I guess,” Definitely wasn’t business. Not here, at least. “Why are you here?” Though he thought he already knew the answer to the question, just by the martini in front of her. “Because of it’s just to drink, feel free to join me for the rest of the night.” 

As the bartender slid her drink towards her, Claudine picked it up with ease, bringing it to her lips for a slow sip. The stranger’s face seemed rather familiar... did they run in the same circles? Or had she encountered him due to her job? She wracked her brain in an attempt to conjure up a memory of him, but so far, no luck. “You’re right about that. I’m with my husband... he’s off somewhere with the dancers, while my main destination for this evening is the bar.” A chuckle rolled off her tongue. “What are you drinking? I’d like to buy you another.”

open to anyone location art gallery (it can be blair’s or a random one)

One of the things Blair loved most about art was its ability to be interpreted endless amounts of ways. You could look at a piece a hundred different times and find a hundred different views. She never grew tired of it ; always curious to know the story behind each piece, and, what others interpret to the stories to be themselves. Arms that were folded across her chest were now falling back to her side as she felt another join her. Head turning towards them, but eyes remaining on the piece. “ What do you think? ’

—

At first, the blonde’s poised nature suggests her nature to be different than that of the usual guest — at least past those hidden doors. And perhaps this is why he’s eyeing her so, gaze back and forth between her and the staffer which tends to her; the young guy’s smile brighter, chin perked up as he over-performs in front of the boss. But if Jacques had any questions about the woman’s visit, her question makes them all vanish; simple, easy, like the snapping of a pair of fingers. Business or pleasure.

“Ha,” Jacques grins. “I’d like to think those things blend together, here — wouldnt’cha say?” The whiskey-clad hand lowers down to his hip, a light shrug following. “Is my business, and I take pleasure in it.” 

Her turn. “What’sa woman like you doin’ ‘round these parts?” 

Claudine had always been known for her charm. From the time she was a tiny little tot, she’d acquired the skill of being able to wrap those in her vicinity around her little finger. The skill never faded away, which allowed her to use it in her favor. 

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s quite refreshing to being working and actually enjoying it. A hobby you get paid for. I wish my job was quite as enthralling.” Her own comment made her laugh slightly, shaking her head. Political scandals were all fun and games, but the life of a politician’s Chief of Staff wasn’t as action-packed as shows like House of Cards made it seem. Not quite.

The blonde brought the martini glass to her lips, her eyes still locked on the other, his question caused her to shrug. “A woman like me? Am I not supposed to be here?” She inquired teasingly with a raised brow, her finger beginning to circle the rim of the crystal glass. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before, but I feel like you’re someone I should know.”

“Business, of-course.” Though a trip to a casino (among other facets) with a potential business partner many not particularly count as a business trip. But Ahmet had no superiors to justify the same to. Almost a shame; the lack of people to answer to. It had resulted in a lifetime of decisions dictated by his own accord, prompting a rather emboldened audacity in him.

He finished the remnants of his drink before taking a brief glance around. Familiar faces stood out but none of whom were the one was looking for. “But I might have been ditched,” he conceded, “—how odd. I thought we were really getting along.” His words may have been doused in jest but there was a hint of truth to them. For Ahmet was unaware of exactly where his previous company had disappeared to. 

While he most likely had not ditched their… meeting entirely, the fact of the matter was that he was currently nowhere to be found. At least as far as his eyes reached— Ahmet had stayed rooted in the position where he had been left in ten minutes before. “What about you?” he asked her. It was rude not to, after all. 

“I knew it. Maybe it’s the immaculate suit and the shoes that gave it away, but you’re certainly do look like you mean business.” A light laugh floated through the room once the words left her lips, her attention only being caught when the bartender handed her a martini. She took it in her hands swiftly, offering an appreciate smile before her gaze returned to the gentleman by her side.

Frankly, Claudine was surprised she’d never seen the stranger before. She was practically the Crown Princess of New York City, considering who her family were... it seemed rather odd that he’d slipped by without her noticing. “Getting ditched is never fun. Not that I’ve ever experienced it, but I’ve been told it’s quite disheartening.” Her words were said in jest, but there was also complete truth behind them. “Well, I may not be a business deal, but I’m here now if you need some company. My husband is probably too busy with his face buried in a dancer’s cleavage.”

WHO ━ Open to everyone.

For most women, accompanying their husband to a strip club was completely taboo. The perfect way to provoke one’s inner jealousy to make itself known and disrupt the peace within a marriage, but for Claudine, it was her favorite pastime. It gave her the opportunity to flirt, drink, dabble in illicit substances and spend a shit ton of money on the gorgeous women that worked there... what more could she want on a weekday? 

"Another martini, darling. Two olives.” Her request rolled off her tongue as she flashed the bartender a faint smirk before turning her attention back to the hordes of people that filled the casino. It seemed as though the flow of people at Gentille Fille was constant, and she wasn’t surprised in the slightest... being one of the hottest clubs in the city for those who could afford it, there was no wonder some of these dancers made more in a night than the regular joe made in a month.

Icy hues zeroed in on the person at her side, surveying them for a few moments in an attempt to figure out their reason for the night’s visit. “You here for business? Or pleasure?”

No good for you. He had to chuckle at that. She was charming. “That depends. You gonna keep lecturing me, lady?” He quipped back, already reaching for his light. 

He clicked it, bringing the flame closer to her, taking a moment to really drink her in. Beautiful wasn’t the word he would use, though she most definitely was; but powerful, disarming–– confident. Not just anyone could pull off a haircut like that. And she certainly didn’t look like the kind of woman he was used to seeing strolling down these streets. But she was absolutely familiar, positive he’d seen her somewhere before, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Nice flowers. Who are they for?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in her business; just her. “Never seen you around here before.” He’d have remembered. “What’s a fancy lady like you doing out here, huh?” 

“It’s not my place to lecture you.” A smirk tugged at her lips in that moment, watching him like a hawk as he fetched the lighter ━ the flame igniting the cigarette she held. “Thank you very much. That’s very kind of you... As far as I remember, the last time I saw you, you looked as though you were going to beat someone to a pulp. It’s nice to see a contrast, though.”

“Smash! I like him. Although, I don’t think he could keep up with me. If you know what I mean.” ━ @antonmoretti

“Of course it’d be a pass. He’s my boss. Are you kidding?” It’s a most definitely smash. She loves a man in a position of power.   ━ @mayorrosellini​

“If I wasn’t married, it’d be a definite smash. One hundred percent. Any time, any place, any way... I’m there.” ━ @mramos

“I have already ‘smashed’ her, so, the answer’s obvious.” ━ @claireshepard