Re: The City: Sasha, Jude, Oliver
The detour was grandiose ('look at the lights, in the trees!', Jude all sunny delight at a majestic spectacle clearly put on for yours truly) and winding, and they rode through the doors on a tide of chiffon curtain and good humor. Oliver with his appetite whetted for a good con was a pleasant Oliver indeed, hence the gamble with the lady-distraction, thank you very much - Jude knew well enough which side his bread was buttered. Jude had paintbrushes tucked in the inside pocket of his coat, as a just-in-case but best behavior smiles were on parade.
He swung a flute of champagne off a server's tray and handed it to Sasha, with another two slung between fingers in careless grace and then passed to Oliver with a sharp, wordless look that indicated there was to be no drinking at all. Sasha? Yes. But Jude had told her it was a party, not a grand scheme.
"So there's dancing over there," Jude pointed, at the weaving figures in the room beyond the hallway they'd entered through, "And old people talking about money through there." Canapes, too. Jude's stomach turned over with a predictable growl.