Finally everything seemed to fall in places. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so happy and excited. Finally! She couldn’t stop smiling. What a wonderful day it was.
A wonderful location, too. The hotel was as grand as its name denoted; rich, red carpets ran along the length of the floor, marble pillars held up high ceilings and wrapped around curved staircases, hotel workers in freshly pressed uniforms marched to their duties in an almost military-style fashion.
A magnificent setting for a magnificent evening, Attika Marisko decided.
She traipsed into a nearby chair and wrapped the ruffly excesses of her blush tea length on top of her lap, careful not to upset the weave of ribbons and curls atop her head. Everything was set. All Attika needed was one final puzzle piece to complete the picture…
“Miss Rosalina!” declared a voice belonging to a tall man in a handsome suit. “Forgive me for my tardiness. My vehicle broke down on the long road to you.”
“Oh, Mr. Robbins,” Attika drawled, letting herself be pulled off the chair and into his arms. “Don’t you worry about me. I waited absolutely no time at all.” That was the truth.
Mr. Robbins pulled back from their embrace and took Attika’s free hand in his. “Call me Georg. Shall we eat?”
“I’d love to.” Attika flashed a smile at him. It had begun.
The dining room was as extravagant as one had expected. Waiters milled around the circular tables, their gloved hands balancing covered dishes of sure delicacy. The red carpet was there again, as was a giant landscape painting of a moose and a mountain at the front of the room.
“Beautiful, that art,” Attika commented, slipping into the chair Georg held for her.
“Rosalina, are you an artist?”
Attika laughed, sweetly. “Oh, no, not me,” she said. “Father put me through lessons as a young girl, and I always managed to frustrate my teacher with my inability to draw anything. That was before he quit in a fit of exasperation.”
“Who needs to know how to draw? You’re a piece of art yourself.”
Georg crooked a smile at her. Attika blushed as hard as her dress and hoped the man wouldn’t make her night too difficult.
Their banter lasted for quite some time, long after their courses were finished. As the evening dipped into night, Georg’s side of the conversation slowly deteriorated. He had downed six glasses of the hotel’s second most expensive wine (the champagne was set aside for “special” occasions), and Attika but one (“I’m not much of a drinker” were her exact words). Attika resorted to prompting her male companion with questions.
“You’re the head of Wellerworth Company, yes?”
“Of course,” Georg half-slurred. The alcohol was really doing something to his brain.
“Then,” Attika began, leaning forward, “are those rumors true?”
“Yes, the rumors, of- well, I suppose I oughtn’t speak of them at such a nice dinner.”
“No, no,” Georg waved a hand at her. “Go on.”
“Well,” Attika sighed, fanning her eyelashes. “I heard… you are always in the company of a woman. You have been in the company… of many women.”
Georg grinned drunkenly. “You know what, Rosalina?” He grasped Attika’s hands and stood up from his seat. “I may have been with many women, but it is clear you are the best one I have ever been with.”
“Truly? But you’re drunk.”
“Truly. My heart does not lie to me. Come now. Our room is waiting.”
Attika supported Georg’s stumble until they reached their suite. In a haze, Georg began to undress. He flung himself back on the bed and beckoned Attika follow. The young woman undid the bow holding together her dress, leaving her largely exposed in her undergarments. She hugged herself tightly, embarrassed.
“Come here, Rosa- Rosalina,” Georg commanded. “Kiss me.”
Attika climbed on top of the man and pressed her face on his so that their noses touched. Upon which, she reached inside the right leg of her stocking, pulled out a knife, and stabbed Georg in the throat! She flinched as warm blood spurted on top of her skin.
“Wh-what,” gurgled Georg, hands instinctively flying to his cut neck.
“Oh, hush,” Attika growled. “For a man worth nearly two million, you are quite stupid.” She slipped her blush dress and her silk gloves back on, then leaned forward to pluck a jade pin from Georg’s lapel to keep in her clutch as a memento of her victory. “Good day, Georg. Pleasure meeting you.”
Attika exited the suite, smiled at the unknowing lobby boy outside, and left the grand hotel.
Two million right there, she thought to herself. What a wonderful day it had been.
Word count: 756. For Finish It! this week. Yeah, I know, that was cliche. And really awkward to write, especially the buildup to Georg’s death… If you had not yet noticed, the setting was indeed the Grand Budapest Hotel. Gosh, Wes Anderson makes the greatest films sometimes. Oh, and I’m taking my permit test today! Wish me luck. ;;