The bidding war had gone down in a blaze of glory - numbers shouted and prices overblown by the sheer virtue of competitiveness. It marked the inevitable end of the evening, and Ettie found herself dreading it - it meant going home where distractions were sparse and leaving behind this fanciful illusion. She’d participated in the bidding, if only to back up Noah, but had given up on it when Isa outbid her towards the end and moved onto the paintings instead - she found they complained much less than he did. “Tell me you’re not as grumpy about it as the rest of them.”, she spoke with a smile when she recognised one of the contestants standing near her as people dispersed, still buzzing from the showdown, “I can listen to only so many complaints before needing another drink. Even if it’s this god awful champagne and gold flakes... thing.”
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