OPEN STARTER @ THE MONLEON MEMORIAL GALA.
Rumors were scuttled around Atticus on East for weeks before the Gala, and yet whilst Emilia claimed to be immune to the curiosity that gripped her coworkers with the strength and might of Zeus, she had to admit–– she wondered, too, who would be catering the massive event. It wasn’t until the day prior that the restaurant’s name, a rival to the establishment she worked at, was splashed on the front cover of the local paper. She carefully examined the seemingly endless trays of food being passed around, raising her brow in appraisal at one shrimp cocktail that came her way. She comments to the individual beside her, “Monleon knows how to throw a 1920s extravaganza. Cocktails, Oysters Rockefeller’s, deviled eggs... I couldn’t have done it better myself.” There’s an embittered twist in her heart at the thought. “Think we’ll see blood at the auction?”
