[ Booker Richardson is always busy. Whether it's dodging charges (real or trumped-up), doing work (legal or otherwise), or social engagements (personal or work-related), he rarely gets a moment to breathe. Even less so lately with all the work his father is piling onto him with attempts at crafting an international network. Personally he's not impressed; he'd rather have a moment to himself ever, to not have to worry about even more hounds at his door.
Tonight he's working. Again.
The FBI seems to have taken a step back for a moment but he doesn't trust it and it puts him even more on edge. He moves through this gala with ease anyway, black-suit-black-tie-burgundy-shirt crisp to contrast his smooth and slick hair. He looks so at home, smiling and expressive as he chats with people: designers, artists, international business-people. He's here on behalf of his father and their holdings, naturally, the young CBO of a well-respected company within the Richardson web of impact. Most locals know who he is.
Anyway.
Nothing really escapes his gaze and he is both a gentleman and not immune to a beautiful woman that seems to be a bit astray. As the conversation he's in winds down he lets out a laugh, turned toward the man he's talking to and shaking his hand while the other hand plants on his back briefly. Friendly, companionable. Then he's sweeping aside, moving toward Isha and pausing a respectful distance away. While the work on her prosthetic is astounding his gaze doesn't focus on it - he's had experience with not being a prick about things like that, thankfully.
He smiles and it's practically cheeky. ] Works of art are over that way, I believe. [ With a nod - yes, naturally, the implication is that she's a piece of art, so on. He wears this persona well, though his real personality is far more understated and less... this. ]
no subject
Tonight he's working. Again.
The FBI seems to have taken a step back for a moment but he doesn't trust it and it puts him even more on edge. He moves through this gala with ease anyway, black-suit-black-tie-burgundy-shirt crisp to contrast his smooth and slick hair. He looks so at home, smiling and expressive as he chats with people: designers, artists, international business-people. He's here on behalf of his father and their holdings, naturally, the young CBO of a well-respected company within the Richardson web of impact. Most locals know who he is.
Anyway.
Nothing really escapes his gaze and he is both a gentleman and not immune to a beautiful woman that seems to be a bit astray. As the conversation he's in winds down he lets out a laugh, turned toward the man he's talking to and shaking his hand while the other hand plants on his back briefly. Friendly, companionable. Then he's sweeping aside, moving toward Isha and pausing a respectful distance away. While the work on her prosthetic is astounding his gaze doesn't focus on it - he's had experience with not being a prick about things like that, thankfully.
He smiles and it's practically cheeky. ] Works of art are over that way, I believe. [ With a nod - yes, naturally, the implication is that she's a piece of art, so on. He wears this persona well, though his real personality is far more understated and less... this. ]