*April 6th, 7:17pm.—Blue Hall, Boston.
Tony adjusted his tie as the black car rolled to a smooth stop outside the auction house. It wasn't exactly his scene, but Aaron had insisted he take some time off—"to clear your head," he'd said. So here he was, stepping out into the mild evening air, the hum of distant traffic mixing with the soft chatter coming from inside.
He thought to himself. "If Aaron suggested it, I'll give it a shot."
(And it was somewhat worth it.)
The auction house was an elegant building nestled on a quieter side street. Large glass windows revealed warm lights inside and rows of well-dressed people filing into the grand hall. Tony followed the crowd, slipping inside without attracting much attention. The soft echo of footsteps on polished marble floors gave the place a calm rhythm.
Inside, the room was spacious and airy. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light reflecting off dark wood paneling and richly carpeted floors. Rows of padded chairs faced a raised stage, where a polished wooden podium stood empty for the moment. Around the perimeter, velvet-draped tables displayed the evening's collection,artworks, antiques, and other valuables poised to change hands.
(A millionaire's Home)
Tony took a seat near the back, wanting to observe without being noticed. He wasn't here to compete, just to unwind. The gentle murmur of voices, the rustling of programs, and the occasional clink of glasses filled the space with a relaxing atmosphere.
Aaron's words echoed in his mind:
"Just watch.
Let the bidding wash over you.
Sometimes it's nice to see a game without having to play."
The auctioneer appeared onstage, "James Smith" , a middle-aged man with a calm, clear voice that projected easily through the room. He tapped the microphone once, smiling politely at the audience.
"It's......Money Time!!!!!!"
(A famous line usually said by Smith)
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Boston's Spring Heritage Auction. We have a remarkable lineup for you tonight, with several exceptional lots.
Let's begin."
The first item was brought forward:
A classic 19th-century French clock, intricate brasswork glinting under the lights. The auctioneer gave a brief history, explaining its rarity and provenance.
"Opening bid at three hundred thousand dollars," he announced.
A few hands raised, the bids climbing steadily until the clock was sold quietly to an anonymous bidder at four hundred thousand dollars.
(Anonymous? Why must y'all be anonymous?)
Tony watched, appreciating the measured rhythm. It reminded him of a slow dance—a game of patience and timing.
The second lot was a stunning oil painting by a well-known modern artist. Its bold colors and abstract shapes stood out among the traditional items. The auctioneer described its exhibition history and recent appraisal.
Auction price: Five hundred Thousand Dollars
Starting at five hundred thousand dollars, the bidding climbed quickly. Tony noted how some bidders seemed familiar with each other, their subtle signals and quiet nods part of an unspoken language.
(Power, power indeed.)
The painting finally sold for seven hundred and fifty thousand, to a woman in a sharp black suit with confident eyes.
(Now, she was class.)
Tony's gaze drifted to the next table, where a gleaming diamond necklace lay nestled in black velvet. The auctioneer introduced it as a rare piece from a private collection, with flawless clarity and a weight of over fifteen carats.
Starting bid: 2,000,000 dollars.
The room hushed, the bids cautious but firm. The necklace was quickly snapped up by a bidder near the front, their paddle raised with quiet authority.
(Fifteen carats? Bro .... That's suppose to be priceless)
Tony could feel the energy rise slightly, the room buzzing with appreciation for the treasures being offered.
Of course it ended up getting sold ...but
It got sold to Tony.
(Yeah, Tony!!!!)
He bought it for 4,000,000 (four million dollars.) That was little money to the Bellinghams. Before he would gather attention, he quickly went back to his seat.
Next came a beautifully restored vintage motorcycle—chrome shining, leather seat polished smooth. Its history was tied to a famous racer from the 1950s, and it came with original documents and medals.
Opening bid: 3,000,000 dollars.
Interest grew, and several hands went up. The bidding became lively but still polite, the price climbing as people challenged each other. After a spirited exchange, it sold for three and a half million dollars.
(Woah, this is crazy!!!!)
Tony thought to himself, pride evident in his face. "So I'm the highest bidder? That's nice."
Tony allowed himself a small smile. There was something oddly soothing about the gentle tension and elegant etiquette of the auction.
The fifth lot was a grand Persian rug, its deep reds and intricate patterns hinting at a century of craftsmanship. The auctioneer praised its condition and origin.
Opening bid: 3,000,000 dollars.
(Same to the last one.)
The bidding was steady, and it sold for three million to a man who nodded politely as he claimed his prize.
(Humble! He's so humble.)
The sixth lot brought a set of rare first-edition books—leather-bound, with gilded edges and delicate illustrations. The auctioneer shared stories of their authors and the books' journey through time.
Opening bid: Eight hundred thousand dollars. Well, it had value. Just not enough value to reach a million
The bidding was slow but sure, ending with a modest but satisfied winner.
(Not gonna mention the price.)
Finally, the seventh lot was a sleek sculpture by a contemporary artist. Its smooth curves and reflective surfaces caught the light beautifully.
Opening bid: five hundred thousand dollars.
Bidding remained measured, with the sculpture going for two million dollars.
By this point, Tony felt a calm wash over him. The auction was steady, the stakes high but the mood relaxed. He leaned back, sipping the water provided, watching the players and the items with quiet interest.
The auctioneer paused briefly, checking notes before continuing.
(It was time!!!)
"We now move to our final segment for the evening," he said smoothly. "Four exceptional lots remain, and bidding for each promises to be spirited."
The crowd leaned forward, attentive.
The first of these was a vintage wristwatch, gold-plated with a leather strap, dating back to the 1940s. Its craftsmanship was exquisite, and it had belonged to a prominent historical figure.
Opening bid: Six million dollars(6,000,000)
Next was an abstract painting with bold splashes of color and texture, recently acquired from a private collector overseas.
Opening bid: Ten Million Dollars(10,000,000)
Third was an exquisite jade carving, delicate and detailed, said to be over two hundred years old.
Opening bid: Twenty million dollars(20,000,000)
And finally, a sealed, unidentified item, kept under lock and key—its nature a mystery to all but the auction house.
Opening bid: undisclosed.
(Now this interested Tony!)
The auctioneer smiled, eyes sweeping the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, bids for these lots will begin shortly, but we will pause here for the evening."
A soft murmur rippled through the crowd. Some bidders exchanged looks, others consulted notes or whispered quietly.
Tony gathered his things, feeling refreshed. The night had been more relaxing than he'd anticipated—a brief escape from the tangled webs he usually navigated.
As he stood to go out, his gaze met Clara's across the room. She offered a small nod, a silent acknowledgement.
"She was here, huh?" He muttered to himself!
Outside, the cool air felt crisp and clean. Aaron was waiting by the car, his expression easy.
"Well?" he asked.
Tony smiled faintly. "Not bad. Exactly what I needed."
Aaron grinned. "Sometimes, it's good to watch the game for a while without jumping in."
(Well....I did end up buying something)
Tony nodded, thinking about the upcoming auction, the sealed lot still waiting in the shadows.
"I'ma head back now, I wanna see what the finally items are."
"Okay, master Tony! I'll be waiting here." A loyal reply from Aaron.
For now, though, he would enjoy the calm.
To be continued…