Chapter 24: Natalie
The week leading up to the gala flew by. It was a bit surprising, because Major chose broccoli as that week’s vegetable. I nearly cried when I saw the bag in my lunch box. The first two days he took pity on me and put a container of ranch in, but on Wednesday it was gone. I could honestly say raw broccoli was the most disgusting thing I’d ever eaten.
When I saw Major on Friday I told him about the art gala. I let him know my coworker was my date, but I made it extremely clear Patrick and I were just friends. Fortunately, he wasn’t jealous. It made me both happy and sad that he didn’t care who I went with. I wished he would be a bit jealous that I would be out with another man. If only I could go to the gala with Major.
He sounded genuinely interested in the art gala and asked many questions about it. I had been to a few charity events with Nathan before, so I knew what to expect. There would be dinner, followed by an auction event, then dancing and socializing the rest of the night. Major said to have fun, and he’d ask how it went next week.
I stood in Scott’s apartment as I waited for everyone to arrive. A tendril of hair fell out of my loose updo, and I brushed it out of my face. I wore a black dress with a golden brooch clipped at my waist. The slight open back made the dress simple, yet classy. I had bought it with the intention of going out with Nathan, so it was good I finally had a chance to wear it.
Patrick walked in wearing a tuxedo, and it became apparent why every girl in HR was in love with him. The bowtie drew attention to his prominent Adam’s apple. Wait, was I checking him out again? No, I was just examining his outfit.
“You look very nice, Natalie.”
“Th-thank you. You as well, Patrick.”
“Okay!” Scott burst out from his bedroom. “Jacques is going to pick us up, and we’ll stay at his place after. He lives a block away and we’ll all be, um, inebriated. So, we can just stumble home.”
I could only imagine how popular Jacques’ art was. The gala was being held at the ritziest hotel in Nob Hill, an area that was defined by its wealth. As if on cue, Scott’s phone rang. A two-sentence conversation confirmed Jacques was downstairs.
The three of us piled into his brand-new Bentley. His choice of vehicle only confirmed my suspicions that his art was in high demand. Patrick and I awkwardly introduced ourselves from the backseat. From the bit of talking we did in the car, I decided Jacques was a nice guy. He was from France, and his accent was extremely noticeable.
The valet took Jacques’ car after we pulled into the hotel. I didn’t want to look nosy, but I could have sworn I saw him slip five hundred-dollar bills into his hands. It must be nice to have that kind of money. Technically, I did. But it came from my aunt, and I didn’t know if I wanted to use it.
Employees checked us in immediately after we entered the hotel, making sure to carefully examine our ID’s. Upon entering the building, I realized that at least three quarters of the hotel was closed for this event.
“Fancy, huh?” Patrick whispered in my ear.
“It’s very nice.”
It definitely rivaled the ones I had been to with Nathan. The galas we had attended were filled with politicians pushing their agendas. I was relieved that this was an art gala, so politicians should be a small minority.
The four of us went to our assigned table. Each table had six seats to it, so I was interested in who our other seatmates would be.
“This is really cool, Scotty.” Patrick commented. “How have you never brought me to one of these before?”
“He calls you Scotty?” Jacques said ‘Scotty’ in his thick accent, which further emphasized how ridiculous it sounded.
“Since I was born. And it’s because I’d rather take a date than my obnoxious older brother.”
Patrick feigned hurt, and Scott rolled his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile at their bickering. The brothers had never argued in front of me before, and watching it was adorable. I wished the two knew how lucky they were to have each other as siblings.
They would have kept going had our table mates not joined us. A man and someone I presumed to be his son joined us at the table. The man’s name was Gary Hawthorne, CEO of Hawthorne Properties. I’d heard multiple rumors about this man, and none of them were good. He often made large political donations so government officials would make decisions in favor of his company.
“Good evening, everyone. My name is Gary Hawthorne and this is my son, James.”
Men normally took wives or dates to these types of events, but Gary’s wife had died a few years ago. She had died under mysterious circumstances, but it was eventually deemed a suicide. I found it suspicious, but it could be that I watched too many crime documentaries.
I pretended not to know who he was as I greeted him. The six of us made light conversation about the gala before waiters came to take our dinner orders.
“Where do you work, Natalie?” James asked.
“I’m the accounting manager at IY Games. Do you work at your father’s business?” I mentally cursed myself for asking. At no point had I let on that I knew who Gary Hawthorne was.
“So, you know of Hawthorne Properties?”
“I’ve read a bit in the news.”
“Good things, I hope.”
I didn’t like to lie, but I would if I had to. “Of course.”
We talked about Hawthorne Properties for a few more minutes before his father politely interrupted us for James’ attention.
Patrick leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I had no idea who he was.”
“It’s not something you would know.”
“Is he your ex-boyfriend?”
I scowled at him. “No. I just meant it’s not something you would follow.”
Fortunately, the food arrived and ended our conversation. The meal looked absolutely delicious. I had ordered chicken cordon bleu with a side of garlic mashed potatoes. I hadn’t tried any of the vegetable options, so I took a leap of faith and went with green beans. Major would get a kick out of me eating a vegetable I’d never tried before in public.
I pierced one green bean on my fork and examined it. Hopefully I wasn’t being too obvious about my hatred for vegetables.
“You know, you always seem so fascinated with your vegetables.” Patrick said as he popped a bite of steak in his mouth.
“I’m not!” I turned bright red and shoved the food in my mouth. I quickly chewed and swallowed the food. “See?”
He chuckled. “So, I guess it was just the peas you were hesitant about?”
“Right. How do you even remember that?”
“I’ve never seen someone eye peas so distastefully. It was worse than a five-year-old.”
I rolled my eyes and him and continued to eat my dinner. After we finished, there was a quick thank-you speech, and an announcement that bidding for art was one hall over.
With the massive inheritance I had received, I could afford to bid on the art. However, I had no intentions to do so. Not once had I touched the money, and probably never would.
“Want to head to the bar? Maybe we can get drunk enough to socialize.” Patrick grinned at me.
I couldn’t help but smile back. I was glad he didn’t bullshit me with his charming act. “Let’s do it.”
Two Blue Hawaiians later, I was ready to socialize. They probably weren’t the classiest drinks for this event. But I didn’t want to drink wine if there were better options available.
“I’m just going to use the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute,” I said.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Patrick smirked at me.
“Are you going to hold my purse while I pee?”
“No, I was going to fuck you in the bathroom stall.” The amused look on Patrick’s face told me he was joking. At least, he better have been.
“Shut up. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I gazed into the bidding area as I walked through the hallways. A few of the pieces were beautiful, and I wondered what it would be like to own one. I had always enjoyed most art, and I could spend hours looking at it online. Owning a painting instead of a print would be amazing. I shook my head, trying to avoid the distraction. If I wanted to look at art I could go to a gallery.
I wished my bathroom was half as nice as the hotel’s. The white marble floor was so shiny I could see my reflection. Its vaulted ceilings could have been taken out of the neoclassical art era. I gave the bathroom one last glance as I made my way out. At least I could keep it in my memories.
The hallways were littered with a few leftover painting bidders, whose expressions varied largely depending on if they won the bid. Maybe I would just poke my head in and see what type of art they had. I’ll just stay for a moment; Patrick won’t even notice.
A painting of a woman in a red dress was being taken offstage as I walked into the hall. I slid against the wall to not draw attention to myself as they brought the new painting on stage.
It was the most stunning piece of art I had ever seen. A gateway of shrubbery lined the pathway to a French provincial house. The trees were so overgrown that the house was only slightly visible in the painting. Although I was standing in the back of the hall, I could see the vibrant colors of the flowers popping out at me. The painting was a secret garden.
I grabbed a paddle and hurried towards the seats before I could overthink it. This painting was going to be displayed in my living room.
“The bidding will start at $300,000.” The announcer said.
I cringed. Definitely not the worst I’d seen, but not the best, either.
“300,000 who has 300?” The announcer asked.
I threw my paddle in the air, my heart pounding. I never knew how exhilarating this could be.
“300, Make it 325.”
A couple in front of me raised their paddles.
“Do I hear 350?”
I shot my paddle in the air, praying it would be the end. But the couple in front of me were relentless. We ping ponged back and forth, each waiting for the other to fold.
“500!”
I raised my paddle one last time. If they outbid me after this, I was done.
“525,” The announcer said. “Do I hear 525?” When there was no response, he said “Sold, 500,000!”
I had to fight the urge to jump out of my seat from excitement. When I went to write the check, my excitement quickly faded. I felt my stomach churn as I signed “Natalie Lane” on the signature line.
“Thank you,” said the employee. “Should we deliver it to your home or would you like to pick it up?”
“Pick it up,” I blurted. I couldn’t imagine having a $500,000 piece of art delivered when I wasn’t home. There had never been a package stolen from my apartment, but that dollar amount wasn’t something I’d risk.
“Perfect.” The employee handed me a business card with the gallery’s hours on it. I shoved it in my purse and hurried out of the hall.
Patrick was talking to a blonde and a brunette. Both girls were cute and clearly interested in him. I was sure Patrick could take both home if he wanted to. I didn’t want to interrupt his conversation, but I did want to let him know I was still alive.
“Patrick.”
“Ah, Natalie. Thank you for talking to me ladies, but I have to get back to my date.”
The girl’s jaws dropped in realization he was picking me over them.
“Oh, no—” I started.
“I think dancing is going to start soon.” He placed his arm around my waist and we walked off.
“What are you doing? Both of those girls are interested in you. Even though I’m your date, I don’t care if you go home with another girl. We’re friends.”
“I came with you, and I’m going to stay with you. I don’t care if they’re interested in me. Besides.” He shot me a devious smile. “You’re such a good dancer.”
“We-we agreed to never bring that up again!” I was mortified just thinking about how raunchy we’d danced at Scott’s birthday party.
“I only said you were a good dancer. Besides, it’s classy dancing here. Unless you want to go somewhere else to dance like last time.” He shot me a mischievous grin.
“I’m going to slap you, Patrick.”
“I’ll survive. Want to get another drink before dancing?”
“Please.”