"That depends on your budget and what else catches your eye. There's also a beautiful Picasso in lot twenty-three that would work well in your space."
We spend the next twenty minutes reviewing the catalog, talking about which pieces are worth pursuing and which are overvalued. I can feel some of the tension leaving my shoulders. This is what I'm good at. This is where I can forget about mysterious gifts and the feeling of being watched.
The auction starts at seven. We find our seats—good ones, close to the front—and I settle in with my paddle, ready to bid on Richard's behalf.
The first few lots go smoothly. I bid on a small Warhol print and drop out when the price gets too high. We pass on a different painting that Richard likes but that I know is overpriced. The Kahlo comes up and I bid aggressively, but we're outbid, and I let it go.
Richard takes each loss with good humor, ordering more champagne between lots. By the time we get to the Picasso, he's on his fourth glass and his words are starting to slur slightly.
"Get it for me," he says, leaning close enough that I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "Whatever it takes."
I nod and raise my paddle when the bidding opens. The price climbs quickly—there's interest from multiple bidders. I stay in, watching the auctioneer, tracking the competition. When it hits the high estimate, two bidders drop out. When it goes twenty percent over, another drops out.
It's down to me and a woman in the back row.
I bid. She bids. I bid again.
Richard's hand presses against my lower back, warm through the thin fabric of my dress. "That's it," he murmurs. "Show her who's boss."
I shift slightly, trying to dislodge his hand without being obvious. It doesn't work. His palm presses more firmly against my spine.
The woman in the back bids again. I counter. The price is now forty percent over estimate, pushing the edge of what Richard authorized me to spend.
"Should I keep going?" I ask, turning to look at him.
His face is flushed, his eyes slightly unfocused. "Absolutely. I want it."
His hand slides lower, resting just above the curve of my ass.
I freeze for a moment, then deliberately lean forward, away from his touch, and raise my paddle again.
The woman in the back hesitates, then shakes her head. The auctioneer's gavel comes down.
"Sold! Lot twenty-three to paddle number forty-seven."
Richard whoops, loud enough that people turn to look. His arm goes around my waist, pulling me against his side. "That's my girl! Knew you could do it."
"Congratulations," I say, extracting myself from his grip and standing up. "I need to go register the sale. I'll be right back."
I don't wait for his response. I head toward the registration desk, my skin crawling where he touched me.
This isn't the first time a client has been inappropriate. It comes with the territory, wealthy men often their money buys them access to more than just art. I've learned to deflect their advances and maintain professional boundaries, while not offending them enough that they take their business elsewhere.
But tonight, with everything else that's been happening, I have no patience for it.
I register the sale, arrange for shipping, and return to find Richard at the bar, ordering another drink. Katie is nowhere to be seen—probably in the bathroom, or anywhere that isn't next to her drunk husband.
"There she is!" Richard says when he sees me. "Come have a drink. We're celebrating."
"I should probably get going." I glance at my watch. "Early morning tomorrow."
"Nonsense. One drink. I insist." He orders a champagne for me without asking what I want, then hands it to me with a smile that's probably meant to be charming but just looks sloppy.
I take the glass only because I can tell he’s in a stubborn mood, and I don’t want to cause a scene. The bar area is less crowded than the main auction room—most people are still watching the remaining lots. It's just us and a few other people scattered around, and I'm suddenly very aware of how isolated this corner is.
"You did great tonight," Richard says, moving closer. Too close. "Really great. I'm lucky to have you."
"Thank you. I'm glad you're happy with the purchase."
