The soft strings of the band reverberated throughout the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum of New York. Everyone was dressed to the nines, here to celebrate the nonprofit organizations that promote the arts. The beautiful marble columns and arches, as well as the ever-present champagne flutes and food, added to the glamour of the night.
It was just the place for Sharon Raydor to revel in. Clad in a purple, floor length Monique Lhuiller gown, she absorbed the swankiness of the event and the art that adorned the halls at the Met. She took another sip of her champagne as she studied the man who stood several feet away from her.
His name was Elliot Daniels. He was a billionaire business magnate, well-known for the many businesses he built as well as the lucrative and questionable ones he supported. It was also no secret that he loved the arts and had an impressive collection of priceless paintings. Rumor had it that Elliot recently purchased an Edward Hopper painting at Christie's for about 4 million dollars.
Sharon was itching for new art. There was a spot in her cabin up in the mountains that was begging for a piece of fine art.
She also knew what kind of man Elliot was. A ladies man. Needed a constant feeding of the ego. Tonight would be an easy job for her. He was an almost too easy mark; there wasn't much chance he'd fight back. It was a shame. Sharon might've actually considered him a potential lover, if only to scratch an itch.
She turned to place her now empty flute onto the server's waiting plate. When she turned back to fix her gaze on Daniels, she found herself in direct eye contact with the silver haired fox. Steel gray eyes pierced into Sharon's emerald ones. She looked away, as if she was embarrassed, and slowly made her way to the bar. If she did it right, she knew he would be right on her tail.
"A Macallan. Neat, please," she ordered.
The suave, Armani-dressed silver haired fox walked up to her right. "I'll what she's having, thanks."
She fiddled with her diamond bracelet, not yet making eye contact with him.
"A pretty lady all alone at the Met," Elliot moved a fraction closer to Sharon, "that just isn't right. The name's Elliot Daniels."
If she could, she'd roll her eyes at the man's attempt at a line. She took a sip of her Macallan, letting the burn of the malt scotch whisky coat her throat.
"Well now, Mr. Daniels it seems," she looked up at him, "I am no longer alone anymore."
She extended her hand to him. "Meredith. Meredith Winslow."
He smiled at her, accepting her handshake. After a shared Macallan and light conversation, Elliot asked her to dance. They were only one-third into the song before being interrupted by a blonde woman in a simple black dress.
Sharon was highly skilled in her ability to school her expressions, so she was able to study the woman before them without raising suspicion from Elliot. She had to admit it to herself. For a stagehand, the blonde was quite beautiful. She was well-built, with slender legs that looked like they could go on forever.
"I'm so sorry, sir," the blonde looked over at her, "and ma'am. The awards portion is about to begin. You're needed backstage."
Elliot let go of Sharon's hand and smiled at the blonde. "Of course. If you'll excuse me, Meredith. Duty calls."
The two of them made their way backstage, but not before the blonde turned back to take a second glance at Sharon. To a layman observer, it would seem like she was wondering if she knew Sharon or not. To Sharon, however, it felt as though she was being studied. Gauged, even. She wondered if she wasn't the only one itching for a piece of artwork tonight.
In the meantime, if there was one thing Sharon truly hated about events like this, it was all the pomp and circumstance with the awards. She hated speeches. It was always so dry, mundane, and lacking originality. There was no spontaneity or passion in people's words.
As the evening wound down, Elliot came back to Sharon and invited her back to his hotel room at The Mark. A night cap, he offered. She knew he wanted more.
But that was okay - she wanted more as well. Much, much more.