Chapter Text
Charity work is good...right? That's why he was here. Well, part of the reason. Sure! Charity is for giving out of the goodness of your heart (well, his was made out of gold), but who wouldn't want to attend these extravagant galas? Everyone surely had to be rich to some extent, right? He figured by judging how primmed up everyone was. And Ramsey Murdoch sure did love to join that crowd.
The venue was breathtaking, gorgeous. The walls were literally made out of glass, the golden chandeliers decorated the pristine ceiling, and the live music was divine. And let's not forget about that gourmet food. Everything was perfect, to the 'T.'
Ramsey did want to give to charity (though, he forgot what this one was for) and had already did, but he had another agenda on his list. Straightening his tie, he thanked the waiter that graciously refilled his glass with rosé . Oh yes, the wine was spectacular. If the man could bathe in their finest wine for all of eternity, he wouldn't even have to the twice about it.
A nudge to the back disrupted the pink-haired man from his wine fantasy. Before Ramsey could turn his head to the nudger, a strong arm made its way around his lanky shoulders, instantly startling him.
"Aye, Ramsey! I just hit it off with the finest gals over there. Look at those waists, baby," a stout male hooted. His coal-colored hair was slicked back with an intense amount of hair gel, and he wore thick-rimmed glasses over his pointed nose. His slightly large fingers were decorated with large, golden rings. A thick, girthy cigar was placed snuggly in his other hand. He gestured over to a group of women in the corner who looked his way coincidentally. They giggled and waved. "Boy, I will kill to have those legs wrapped around mine, baby."
Ramsey scrunched his nose with a slightly disgusted sigh. "You can't just talk about women like that, Charlie." Though, he did steal a few more glances at them. They sure were pretty. Real pretty.
Ramsey's friend, Charlie, dismissed his wording with a wave and a laugh. He took a sharp inhale from his cigar and blew the remaining smoke in the other direction of Ramsey, not wanting to blow the toxic smoke in his face. If it was anyone else, though, he wouldn't have cared.
"So, how's the advertisement going, buddy? Got any deals yet?"
Ramsey narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. "It's not as easy as it sounds. I'm working on it."
Charlie gave the man a knowing look. His thick eyebrow rose higher than the other in a doubtful manner. "It's been an hour. Maybe instead of indulging in this wine, go make some cash. Everyone here is waiting to flaunt their money for sumthin.' Give 'em something to flaunt for."
I could if I would, Ramsey thought bitterly. He averted his gaze from his friend as he creased his eyebrows together out of embarrassment. Charlie did have a point; he danced around the fact that he had to talk to people. No, it wasn't that he was nervous. Well, he kind of was, but he didn't want to make a fool out of himself. He just didn't have the patience or the time for that. Do people still look for appraisers anyways?
Noticing the disappointed look on his friend's face, Charlie sighed. He roughly jabbed his girthy finger into the middle of Ramsey's chest, earning a small yelp.
"Listen 'ere, Ram. I know you, you're a smart man. You take what you want when you want. You think this whole place got people with epithets? You gotta be the serpent in this situation, Ram. Get 'em to fulfill your desires. Lemme tell you the thing that separates you and these folks--- They may be dripping with cash, but you're dripping with gold."
Ramsey processed the brief speech. Sure, not everyone here had an epithet, though it really didn't matter to him. But that didn't mean he couldn't get them on his side, Mundie or Inscribed. He tried to look for the more positive connotation of his friend's speech, not focusing on the obvious, evil tone he had.
"Thanks, Charlie. I needed that," he thanked. Charlie only grinned.
"Ain't a problem, Ram. Go get your gold. And get a woman while you're at it."
Ramsey rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for a relationship, Charlie."
Charlie took a whig from his cigar. "Who said you had to be in a relationship?" he pointed out casually.
The difference between the two men was that Charlie loved women, and wasn't too into commitment. He was married once, but of course, it didn't end well. The poor man is on child support now. Ramsey liked to talk to people here and there, but he wasn't exactly fond of the idea of a relationship either. In contrast to his friend's reasoning, he just never... found the right person? Just save the trouble for you and the heartbreak of another and keep to yourself. There's no time for chasing after people, Ramsey believed. Good things would surely find its way to you, it just hasn't happened for him yet.
Ramsey didn't even notice Charlie sneaking his wine glass away from him as he suddenly had a flashback to a past relationship he did have. Great, now Charlie's woman statement got him distracted. He didn't want to think bout his ex at a time like this; he avoided thinking about them all the time anyway. It just wasn't good for him, to pollute his own mind with memories that shouldn't have happened. He could've just stopped the toxicity and left before things got worse, but like the coward he is, he didn't do anything about it until the last minute. Good riddance now. It's in the past now, and Ramsey was in the future. He can blame his ex for him not wanting to be in a relationship now all he wants, it wouldn't make a difference. It was his choice. Just like it was their choice to screw him over.
You had plenty money of 1922
Huh?
Both his normal and golden, wounded eye flickered up immediately to the source of the new sound that filled the room. He just so realized that he was sitting a few tables away from the stage, where a figure stood by a vintage microphone. They weren't there before, right? His face was resting in the palm of his hand from his previous negative thinking before his attention was grabbed. Those few words were sung so exotically, filled with heart and soul. The figure sang deeply and clearly as they grabbed the attention of many.
You let women make a fool out of you.
"Whoa. Who's the sweetcake?" Charlie wondered out loud, almost mesmerized by their voice if he wasn't just as busy admiring their body. He didn't receive a response, which caused him to glance over at his oddly silent companion. He rose his eyebrows out of amusement and slight surprise; he has never seen such a look on Ramsey's face before.
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too?
The performer was a woman, dressed in the purest white mermaid gown that hugged her curves like a glove. A white, faux fur shawl was draped around her elbows as her shoulders gleamed in the light. Her skin was chestnut, and it showed no imperfections whatsoever. Her hair hung to the middle of her back as it was pushed off to one side. It was a dark, Everest green with white streaks.
You're sitting there wondering what it's all about
You ain't got no money, they will put you out
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too?
As she sang, she made small gestures with her hands. Ramsey noticed her neatly done nails. They were painted a ruby red. A couple of small rings decorated her slender fingers like ornaments. Ramsey silently wished for her to open her eyes.
If you had prepared 20 years ago
You wouldn't be a-wanderin' out from door to door
The woman slowly and gently wrapped her hand around the mic as her eyes began to open.
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too
They finally made eye contact. Ramsey didn't dare move. Her piercing gaze held both lavender and periwinkle pigment. A chill was sent down his spine as the singer sang the piece, her sound and tone filling his ears like a balloon. He forgot where he was, what he was previously thinking about. Hell, he forgot his own epithet. It was like all of that didn't matter to him anymore. All that mattered was that he was existing the same time as this enchanting voice.
I fell for your jivin' and I took you in
Now all you got to offer me's a drink of gin
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too
Did she just smirk at him? Did this woman really just smirk at him? Wait, why was he smiling?
She tore her gaze away from his easily and looked ahead, taking a few deep breaths. Her collarbone rose and fell.
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Like some other men do
The young woman closed her eyes as the drummer and pianist hit their final note. There was some applause she received while others continued to converse. Charlie was among those who applauded, as well as blowing a flirtatious whistle. Ramsey didn't do anything. Actually, the best part about this entire experience was watching the woman faintly smile to herself, as a sign of satisfaction for a job well done. She didn't look his way again.
"Baby, I'm callin' dibs on that one," Charlie mused. His Italian accent was laced with sexual energy as he stood up and cracked his knuckles. Ramsey quickly glared at him, moving his hand away from his face.
"You will do no such thing."
"Oh? Why? You want her?" Charlie teased and snickered. "That's all you have to say, Ram. I'll get out of your way...But you gotta move quick."
Charlie gestured behind Ramsey, urging him to look back. Ramsey turned around to see the same woman among a group of others. They laughed and talked like there was no problem in the world. The woman just stood and listened. Ramsey furrowed his brows in deep thought while she excused herself. There was no way in Hell he wanted to talk to her. Wait, did he?
"Strictly business," he mumbled, loud enough for Charlie to hear. "I'll go talk to her. But its gonna be professional."
Charlie finished Ramsey's drink. "Go get 'em, Champ."
--------
The charity event continued, no one knew what time it was. The dark sky illuminated with stars was enough for them to know it was getting late---and they didn't care.
Ramsey roamed the hall, conversing with those older folks that reminded him so much of his family. Using his skill of persuasion, he made great promises and deals. However, as he oh-so joyously enjoyed himself, all he really wanted was to find that woman. He almost forgot about her actually when he found himself listening to a story from this old man until he stopped himself.
"Vanessa, darling! There you are!"
Probably his lady friend, Ramsey snarkily thought as he quietly drank. He wasn't paying attention to their conversation until he heard his name pop up.
"You sang wonderfully today, Ms. Castro."
"Oh, you're too kind, Mr. Aroma. Thank you."
"Oh! But it's true. Isn't that right, Mr. Murdoch?"
Ramsey nearly dropped his glass once he made eye contact with those same lavender eyes from before. The woman turned her body towards him, awaiting his answer. Ramsey swallowed a lump forming in his throat and nodded.
"Yeah. You were good."
Oh, no. Did I offend her?
Mr. Aroma checked his sterling silver pocket watch before rising. "Excuse me, but I must find my husband. We have to get up early tomorrow to catch our flight! Enjoy the evening, you two!"
Before leaving, he shook Ramsey's hand and pecked Vanessa's cheek. Now, it was just the two of them together. Finally. Ramsey waited to talk to this woman for so long. And now? It was awkward.
"So. Vanessa, right?" he started, his fingers dancing on his lap. He liked the way the name fell from his lips. It was sharp and venomous but had a sense of beauty to it.
Vanessa Castro nodded. "That's me. So, tell me. Was I just good?"
Ramsey jolted in his seat as he broke into a nervous sweat. Shit, he did offend her. Vanessa rose a brow as she popped her hip to the side, waiting for this man to open his mouth. Oh God, the amount of sass that is radiating from her is slightly scaring him right now.
Another awkward silence took place, cueing the young woman to scoff and rolled her eyes. She turned to leave, but Ramsey stopped her.
"Wait."
She rose another brow.
"Please don't go. I... I actually wanted to talk to you tonight."
Ramsey now had her full attention. He smiled, showing off his gold tooth.
"And for the record, I thought you sounded gorgeous."
---------
"Wait, so, you don't sing professionally?"
Vanessa chuckled as she crossed her legs. She flipped her hair to the side with her hand as she looked up, taking interest in the stars.
"I wish I did. My boyfriend helps me pick up gigs here and there. It's like a quick money grab now."
The two were seated on the large balcony outside. The cushions they sat on were like clouds, and the air was cool and soothing. They talked for a good half an hour, dancing around the reason why Ramsey wanted to talk to her in the first place.
The word boyfriend for some reason didn't sit well with Ramsey, but he ignored the feeling. It shouldn't matter, right?
"I have a question for you, Mr. Murdoch."
"That's my father. Just call me Ramsey. What's up, though?"
Vanessa scanned him, her leg lightly swaying side to side as she messed with her rings. She stared at him, trying to find his story, to read him. She couldn't, which frustrated her. There was something about him that she wanted to pick at. She wanted to know what his deal was.
"Are you inscribed?"
Ramsey lightly furrowed his brows in question. "Maybe? Why'd you ask?"
"You want something. I can see it," Vanessa told him, eyeing him up and down. "If its to sleep with me, then tough luck. I'm in a rel--"
"GOD, no! It's not that!" Ramsey exclaimed out of fear, waving his hand. His poor heart nearly stopped. "That's not what I'm here for! Okay, listen. I have a proposition for you."
Vanessa leaned back, signaling for him to continue.
"You said you don't have a steady job, right? I can offer you one."
Vanessa laughed at this. "Oh? And what would that be?"
Ramsey smirked and leaned closer, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.
"You come work for me."
Vanessa scanned him again. Oh, God. He was serious. "Why?"
"Look, I'm an appraiser. And I also have an Epithet, which gives me an upper hand for the kind of work I do. It'll be nice to have someone around to help me and my business grow, ya know?"
Vanessa shook her head, scoffing with disbelief. "Oh yeah? What's your Epithet?"
"I'll show you."
Ramsey then reached for Vanessa's wine glass. She placed it in his hand and waited patiently. Her eyes flicked back and forth to his hands and his sturdy gaze. He didn't move an inch, which kind of bothered her. Oh, fuck. She prayed she wasn't getting abducted right now.
All of her worries were washed away once the man's fingertips began to turn a solid gold. Soon enough, her glass was coated in gold. Pure, raw gold. Her eyes widened slightly, much to Ramsey's amusement. He handed the glass back to her so she could examine it. She did. It was actually gold.
"Like what ya see?" Oh, now he was having fun.
Vanessa began weighing her options. She could stay with her boyfriend, unemployed with an unachievable dream of singing big. Or, she could accept this man's offer, and possibly risk getting arrested for embezzlement. Though Ramsey never mentioned it, Vanessa wasn't exactly the dull type. She knew exactly the type of work Ramsey was getting into. Thing is, was she bothered by it? The risk sounded fun, and something thrilling could finally happen in her life for once. She also took a liking to this strange man; he wasn't all that charming, but he sure was funny.
"What would I even do for you?" she questioned, still examining her golden glass. Ramsey pursed his lips as he hummed, thinking of something.
"Ah, you can be my assistant for now," he proposed. "Wait, does that mean you're considering it?"
Vanessa couldn't help but smile at his hopeful tone. They stared at each other, both with smiles on their faces.
"Why the Hell not? This should be fun."
She turned in her seat to face the balcony and leaned back comfortably. Raising her glass, she smiled even more.
"Better make this worth my time, Ramsey."
Ramsey mimicked her actions. He smirked at her playfulness. She was cute.
"That's no way to talk to your boss, babe."
Their glasses clinked, finalizing the deal.
They hoped that this was the start of something new and exhilarating.