@pcrastrid
The evening was wild, riotous, full of energy and adrenaline — he’d known from the start what he wished to bid on, and he’d known from the start that he would win. There was left the question, of course, of what he would do with his prizes: the artwork was easy; he’d display it either in his house, in a corner where it could be properly venerated, or in his office, where multitudes of people would be able to appreciate it as it deserved to be — plus he would get to see it every day while he worked, a beautiful piece to inspire him to be greater than he is..
The date was much harder.
He liked Astrid. He liked her more than he had ever expected to, he liked her more than he had expected to like anyone, especially given his image and his proclivities (a playboy, a user, a man with two models hanging off each arm, to be thrown away at the end of the night). He liked her; he admired her artwork and her talent and her skill and she made him feel funny when she spoke to him and perhaps he was just the slightest bit smitten by someone who he was in all regards barely more than a stranger to. He adored her, and all he wanted to do was give her the best night of her life. One she wouldn’t forget, one that would make her happy, one that would bring that damned cute smile to her face, that smile that he’d so far only caught in glimpses.
It took a lot of thought, spread through the entire evening, informing every single moment and action and speech, each one distant and distracted and occupied with something so much more important. It took a lot of thought to arrive at his brilliant idea, and it came, actually, as he was bidding on New York in The Clouds. It came as the prices rose and his determination grew into steel, as he and Morgan gouged the prices higher and higher. It came, that single thought, the one that would lead to his demise.
Yes, he knew exactly how he was going to give Astrid Van Renesslaer the perfect night.
(His stomach churned, his heart beat slowly and quickly in his chest all at once. Oh, the thought of it. How stupid all of this had made Felix Salamanca.)
When the biddings came to an end, he spotted Astrid descending from the stage back into the great, wide hall and he approached her. A gentle smile passed his lips, and he kept a respectful amount of distance from her. He already felt so pushy — he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “Meet the lucky owner of one of the most brilliant Van Renesslaer pieces yet. You don’t know how happy I am,” he said, grinning brightly, his hands in his pockets, “I think we need to talk about our date, though. Would you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?” He offered her his arm to escort her properly, though he wouldn’t take offense if she refused to accept it.
