There is a shorter man behind him, fixing to walk up to beside him. Likely the only person there that could move as smoothly, but anyone looking wouldn't guess it.
"Here for the free canapés, the free Moët & Chandon, or fish eggs on crackers? Or simply window shopping?"
He shakes his hand carefully and no one would be able to detect the paper that passed hands with the map of where the cameras film and the schematics of the security.
There is an F.B.I. agent, walking up behind him as he smiles and wonders what the smooth looking Abercrombie & Fitch model and the shorter he's not sure how do describe man.
Walking up behind Neal he smiles. "I think you're missing the art."
"Here for the free canapés, the free Moët & Chandon, or fish eggs on crackers? Or simply window shopping?"
Asks the guy beside him.
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"Oh, you know. I just can't resist a good party."
He takes a sip from his glass, making it look like he's drinking more than he actually is, and glances at Mozzie.
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There could be a tongue in cheek here if your looking for it.
"What is about these painting people like I will never understand a kindergarten student could do better. I much like flowers better."
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"Oh, come on, Moz. You're cramping my style."
He grins.
"And you can't compare Mondrian to Degas. Not only are the two in completely different categories, but I will disown you if you bring it up again."
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"Like that could ever happen. You shouldn't look at art alone you have to have someone to talk about how lovely it is."
He looks back at the painting
"I don't think you can do that. Disown me that is. You need me."
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"Did you get it, then?"
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"This doubt it hurts me down deep."
He said softly sure only one person heard him.
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"When what I want is the confidence to leap."
Neal glances at the nearest window out of the corner of his eye. There's a potted plant beneath it.
"I love the colors in this painting," he grins, glancing at Mozzie. "Don't you?"
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He then looks at the painting and barely keeps his nose from curling.
"Yes, It's very deep and what not."
Moz smirks to him self. He hated it.
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"Well, it's been a pleasure."
He makes a show of reaching to shake Mozzie's hand.
Just two art lovers here, admiring a fine display. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
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He shakes his hand carefully and no one would be able to detect the paper that passed hands with the map of where the cameras film and the schematics of the security.
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He'll freshen up his drink and then wander to the next painting before unfolding the paper, and smiling at its contents.
Candy. From. A baby.
Slowly, he makes his way toward the window.
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Walking up behind Neal he smiles. "I think you're missing the art."
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