Collecting Art

[Damien Hughes (D)]

"Why not." I said with a smile. "Thats what I'm here for anyway...looking."

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"All right," I said, beginning to walk over to the other section. He was right, there were some lovely paintings over here. My eye caught a painting of a pair of sleeping lovers, man and woman, entwined in a field of flowers. The details were so fine you could practically see their eyelids fluttering. "What think you of this painting?" i asked, pointing.

[Damien Hughes (D)]

"Too graphic." I said with a shrug. "I'd never leave my bed if that was in my room." I chuckled at my own joke.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

I gave a slight laugh. "Perhaps you're right," I said, "but I don't want just a painting of a vase of flowers."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

"I take it a landscape is out then too." I replied. "Or a mural of yourself?"

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"Myself?" I asked. "Wouldn't that be a little...conceited of me?" I resisted the urge not to giggle, on the spectrum of humility, I was much closer to the hubris side than the humble one.

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I chuckled softly.
"Possibly," I said smiling. "As long as its tasteful though..." I trailed off and shrugged.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"I think if I were ever to commission a painting, I'd hang it in my library or sitting room," I said. I looked around. "No, no, it can't be of me, and it can't be too sensual..."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I smiled.
"What about that one." I pointed out a painting of a beautiful black horse running through the woods.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"Oh," I breathed, "he looks like my first horse, Brego." I nodded. "This one is better, but not exactly right."

I took another look around. My eyes fell on another nude, a woman, lounging on a pile of pillows. The painting was ornate, but not too much, and the colors were very pleasing. "It's an odalisque," I said. "I think this is the one."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

"That seems offly sensual." I pointed out with a smile. "You sure you can handle it?" There was a teasing tone to my voice.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"I think so," I said. "You see, she is nude, but her back is to us, so you can see her face, but not the front of her body. It's sensual, but more subtle than the other."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I nodded.
"It is a stunning painting." I offered with a kind smile.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"I agree," I said. I squinted at the plaque next to the painting. "Although I don't know if I'm willing to pay 10,000 gold." I thought a moment. "Perhaps I can bargain it down."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I blew out a whistle as she said the price.
"I don't think I've ever seen 10,000 gold up front. You'd be lucky to get it lowered."

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"I would be," I replied. "But I can be very persuasive if I try."

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I chuckled.
"I think I'd like to see you try." I offered in almost a test to see her do it.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

"Isn't that something," I said. "And here I thought transactions of business were private affairs." My tone was light, but my meaning clear; I had my dignity, after all.

[Damien Hughes (D)]

I raised a brow and nodded my head once. Cold, yes that was it.
"Well then I'll just have to miss out on the fun. Excuse me, I see a sculpture that's caught my eye." I turned away from her and toward the thick white mass.

[Rosalie de Merteuil]

I tried not to glare at his retreating back. Not even a goodbye, or have a lovely day.

I made my way to the curator's office. He was there at his desk. "Excuse me," I said, "that painting, Odalisque. I am interested in purchasing it."

"Certainly," he replied. "Won't you come in?" He invited me to his desk and closed the door. "Please, have a seat." Graciously, I sat. "Will you be paying by cheque?"

"Actually, I was hoping you were willing to bargain. The painting is 10,000 gold, I was hoping to give you seven."

The man nearly turned purple. "Seven thousand gold? I wouldn't sell it for a penny less than it's worth. But I can be a fair man. 9000."

"But how do I know what it's worth, when I have seen so many forgeries in your shop today?" I asked sweetly.

The man puffed up. "Forgeries? Nonsense. Everything has been personally examined by me."

"Then you are losing your touch. I saw a mural that was very like a copy of one done by Karolin Kappel. Now, I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt, but what will happen if people start to whisper that La Confrerie Artistique sells forgeries and knockoffs? I can't imagine that will do well for business."

The man tried to keep his chest up, but it was clear he'd been beaten. Rumors, no matter how true or false, always hurt business. "8000."

"Done." With a flourish, I wrote a cheque. "You may bring this to the bank for your money. I expect a prompt delivery."

"Yes, yes of course." The man sighed.

"Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you," I said. "Oh, and please convey my best regards to the young man looking at the sculpture there."

With that, I swept out of the shop.

[Damien Hughes (D)]

As fast as she had arrived she was gone and I was standing alone again. Well, that was smooth.

I wondered if I should have tried harder to be nice. But she had caught me off guard and I was not used to such seeminly crass behaviour. I was a simple man. I sighed anyway and wondered if anyone else would greet with me.