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Assistant: Title: I Wasn't Searching For Anyone (and I saw you)
        Author: UnitedWeStandDividedWeFall UnitedWeStandDividedWeFall 
        Chapter: 1/46 
        Summary: It was the very first time that one of Clarke's paintings made it into a gallery. And it wasn't just any gallery, it was the most prestigious one in the country. Rich people from all over the world were coming there to auction on artwork for their mansions and penthouses. Clarke met an older woman who bid an insane amount of money on her painting. And won. Intrigued by the stranger, Clarke allowed herself to be taken back to her hotel room.
        Contents: Chapter 1
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  At the age of twenty Clarke was in the middle of changing her major and just barely ready for the real world. Due to a lost bet, she sent one of her favorite oil paintings to the most prestigious gallery in the city and to her surprise they accepted it. They wanted her painting to be a part of the silent auction. 

  Which is how Clarke ended in an overly expensive black dress with thin straps over her shoulder and a slit showing off her right thigh. She looked good, but she wasn't sure how long she could stay comfortable like this. Her best friend Raven, who was accompanying her to the event, wasn't much of a help either.

  "D@mn, this place is full of potential sugar daddies," Raven whispered to Clarke. 

  Raven was right. The gallery was packed with extremely rich business men and their wives that were young enough to be their daughters. There was an occasional younger looking man that eyed Clarke and Raven lustfully and while Raven was smirking it just made Clarke feel uncomfortable. "I'm just going to stand near my painting," Clarke said.

  "Okay. I'll try and mingle," Raven replied. She found a waiter with a tray of expensive champagne and when she went to reach for a glass he just shook his head and walked away, knowing he had more important people to impress. "Rude."

  Clarke was not having a better time next to her painting. Sure, people were passing by and some wrote down their names and the amount of money they wanted to bid but everyone seemed so snotty and like they believed they were better than anyone else. But then Clarke saw 
  
    her. 
  
  She was talking to another lady, her index finger tracing the rim of her almost empty glass as she laughed. Clarke was immediately mesmerized. Their eyes met and Clarke flinched, averting her gaze and searching for Raven through the crowd. 

  Instead of getting to avoid the confrontation, the woman she was previously staring at was making her way towards Clarke and she had to gulp because she had never seen anyone more attractive. There was this aura around the stranger that pulled her in and left her breathless. 

  She stopped just a foot away from Clarke, looking over the painting. "Oil?" she guessed with a rasp in her voice.

  Clarke just nodded dumbly, taking in the woman in the suit. The way her b@tt looked in the perfectly-fitted pants and how attractive her forearms were with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Not to mention that the first two buttons of her white shirt beneath her blazer were unbuttoned which made her appear more casual than the rest of rich people.

  "Beautiful painting," she complimented before walking over to the list and putting her name down.

  Clarke promised herself she wouldn't care about how much people bid on her painting, but she was curious now. She knew they had to put down their name or at least last name.

  Raven waited for the lady to walk away before she skipped over to Clarke. "Wow, who was that hottie?"

  With a shrug, Clarke turned towards the woman who was watching her. Even across the room Clarke could see how intense her green eyes were. 

  "D@mn, she's totally checking you out," Raven stated in realization. "You should totally get yourself a sugar mama. Imagine all the art supply she could buy you," she said wistfully. 

  Clarke shook her head. "This is wrong. She's way older and she probably goes for old billionaire men that are close to death and leave all the money to her."

  Raven dared to look over the list. "She's the last donation, right?" Clarke nodded in confirmation and she whistled. "Well, she just made you rich because she bid two hundred thousand for your painting."

  "What?" Clarke yelled before clearing her throat. "What?" she repeated quieter. She walked over to the list and counted the zeros after the two. Again, and again. "Sh@t. She really did. Well, no one's gonna bid more money than that." Clarke looked back at the woman and their eyes met again and Clarke felt her cheeks flush when the woman smirked.

  Raven laughed. "Wow. The s@xual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. She could definitely pay your student loans."

  Clarke gently elbowed Raven. "Drop it. Come on, let's go around and look at the rest of the paintings. They should be making final sells soon."

  One of the first paintings sold reached the price of a million dollars and Clarke and Raven all but gaped at the large number. It's not that Clarke was poor. They always had money, and after her dad died due to an accident at work they had been receiving even bigger monthly checks, but they weren't spending-a-million-dollars-on-a-painting rich. 

  "She's coming over," Raven whispered, nudging Clarke to straighten her back. 

  Clarke rolled her eyes but when she looked at her coming over her back automatically straightened and she raised her chin ever so slightly. The woman matched the motion with her own chin raise and a small smug grin.

  "We meet again," she said.

  Clarke gulped and nodded. She turned to Raven for help but her friend just shrugged and walked away. "You're buying my painting?"

  "Yes. Oil technique is my favorite."

  Releasing a shaky breath, Clarke focused her eyes on the green ones. "With how much you're paying for it I feel like I owe you something."

  "How about dinner? Clarke, is it?"

  Maybe it was the way she said her name. Rolling each letter almost sinfully, leaving Clarke breathless. Maybe it was the spark in her eyes. Or maybe it was that half smile. But Clarke found herself nodding.

  The woman's lips parted slightly, almost as if she was expecting to be rejected. Her hand reached out. "Lexa."

  "Clarke," she introduced herself and then smiled nervously. "But you already know that." She reached for her, Lexa's, hand and realized her palm was sweaty and quickly pulled it back, cringing slightly. "Dinner?" she asked instead.

  Lexa hummed thoughtfully. "Wait for me after the auction ends."

  "Okay," Clarke whispered. She watched Lexa and shook her head. Lexa. What a unique and interesting name, she thought. Though her name wasn't common either, much less for girls. Clarke found herself stumbling when Raven crashed into her but luckily neither of them hit the floor. "What the hell, Raven?"

  "Sorry," Raven apologized and bounced giddily. "So, what did the hottie want?"

  "Her name's Lexa."

  Raven nodded and watched Clarke expectantly. "That's it? She was here for like five minutes."

  Clarke shrugged and then leaned closer to Raven. "She asked me out for dinner after the auction," she whispered.

  "Dude!"

  Clarke rolled her eyes. "It's not that big of a deal. It's a meal. It's probably going to be a fancy one but I'm starving anyway."

  "Yeah, a meal with a millionaire," Raven pointed out and then started looking around the gallery. "I need a sugar daddy to take me out for fancy dinners," she sighed.

  Clarke made a face. "That's gross. Besides, she seems kind of… normal? I guess. Compared to everyone else here. I know if a guy asked me out he would be expecting at least a bl@w j@b."

  Raven smirked. "Good thing you're bi then. You can play with her kitty instead." Clarke's arm came up and she smacked Raven on the back of her head. "Ouch! You're so abusive."

  "Can you at least cover for me? I told mom I'm staying over at your place so she might text or call," Clarke begged.

  "Yeah, yeah, you know I've got your back," Raven easily agreed. "So, should I expect you later for a sleepover?"

  "I don't know. I might tell mom you didn't feel well and I decided to come home," Clarke admitted. "Depends on this dinner thingy."

  Raven nodded in agreement to the plan. "And what if she invites you over for some hokey pokey?"

  "Raven," Clarke whined. "Can't you act like an adult for five minutes? I don't think so. I mean, she seems straight anyway."

  Raven glanced at Clarke and then at the woman that made Clarke rich. "Straight? Honey, she's wearing a suit with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. And she's wearing a watch."

  "Plenty of straight people wear watches."

  Raven groaned. "Fine, whatever. Be negative then."

  "I'm being realistic," Clarke argued. "Come on, let's make rounds before the auction ends."

  Clarke and Raven stood in the back when the higher bidders were called out, as well as the amount of money spent on paintings. Clarke thought two hundred thousand was too much, but it wasn't even anywhere near the highest bid of the night. 

  "They're so rich," Raven cried out dramatically, leaning against Clarke for support.

  Clarke swallowed and nodded. She knew Raven's family wasn't as blessed with money as hers was, especially since she only lived with her alcoholic mother. Raven was a genius though and she had a job at the mechanic shop since she was old enough to work. 

  The auction ended at eleven pm but it didn't appear like anyone was in a rush to leave. Raven was shifting from one foot to the other. "Are you really telling me these rich @ssh@l@s don't need any chairs?"

  "You can go home," Clarke said. "And if I have to wait for more than ten minutes I'll leave too. I don't really feel like waiting for her."

  "Okay," Raven agreed. "Text me before you leave, okay? And let me know if you're going to dinner so I know you're safe," she reminded her.

  "I will," Clarke promised and hugged Raven goodnight. She leaned on her tiptoes and looked around the gallery. She realized just how much Lexa stood out from the rest of the crowd. She was the only woman that wasn't hanging on some older man's arm. She was talking to a group of people. Clarke watched her for a while before making her way to the bathroom. When she came back ten minutes had passed and she decided to head out.

  "Leaving without me?"

  Clarke jumped slightly, startled by the voice.

  "Sorry," Lexa apologized and chuckled slightly. "I really didn't mean to scare you. It just got too crowded inside."

  Clarke nodded, still unable to form any words.

  Lexa approached her, hands in pockets. "Are we still on for dinner or do you wish to go home? I have a chauffeur that can drop you off."

  "I could use some food," Clarke admitted. She was hungry. 

  Lexa smiled. "I was hoping you'd say this." A black SUV came to a stop in front of them. Lexa walked forward and opened the backseat door. "Hop in."

  Clarke climbed in the car and her jaw dropped. The interior was limousine like. There were two seats facing a TV, and two seats on the opposite site that were folded up. She took a seat and buckled her seatbelt, still looking around in wonder. A bottle of champagne was staring at her and there were buttons everywhere.

  "This isn't my personal vehicle," Lexa felt the need to explain after she was seated too, the door closed. "It's only used for travelling."

  Clarke wanted to ask where Lexa was from but she was too nervous and then her breath hitched when Lexa leaned over her.

   "If you press this button you'll get much more comfortable," Lexa explained in a low tone and then Clarke let out a noise of surprise when her chair turned into a recliner and her feet were suddenly propped up. Lexa laughed.

  "I see," Clarke muttered and leaned back.

  Lexa pulled out her phone and typed ferociously for a few minutes. Clarke wondered what was going on but she didn't dare to peak. "My apologies for springing the dinner thing on you," Lexa eventually said and placed her phone aside. "I understand if you only accepted it out of politeness."

  Clarke shrugged. "Honestly, I am kind of hungry. The gallery was only serving weird seafood appetizers and I'm not a fan."

  "Neither am I," Lexa confessed.

  The car came to a stop and Lexa opened the door and elegantly stepped out while Clarke awkwardly stumbled, nearly tripped, and shivered as the cold air hit her. She really didn't think this through. Her mom insisted she should have brought a jacket but Clarke argued it was a short walk to Raven's.

  Lexa must have noticed because she was shimmying out of her blazer. "Here," she offered and placed it over Clarke's shoulders before she buttoned her shirt up. She kept her sleeves rolled up. 

  Clarke slipped her arms inside the sleeves and sighed at the immediate warmth. And at how good it smelled. She finally looked around them, trying to figure it out where they were and her eyes widened. Of course, Lexa would take them to the most expensive restaurant in town.

  Lexa cocked her head to the side, observing Clarke. "Come."

  "Right," Clarke murmured and smiled shyly when Lexa opened the door for her. She was worried people were going to stare at her and think she was really sleeping with this obviously-rich woman for money. But nobody batted an eyelid when they entered together.

  "Woods," Lexa announced quietly.

  The man behind the counter and nodded. "Your usual table is set up."

  He led them up the stairs and Clarke realized she had never seen the upper floor before and she realized why. It was a VIP section. Not that she had the money to eat here regularly in the first place. Food was ridiculously overpriced and the portions were absurdly small. 

  "You have a usual table," Clarke blurted out once they sat down.

  Lexa nodded. "I do. My business leads me in this part of the town often."

  "What kind of business?" Clarke asked curiously.

  Lexa just waved the question off. "It's rather boring to talk about work. Tell me, Clarke, what made you interested in art?"

  "I've loved art ever since I can remember," Clarke said honestly. "My nan had an easel and mom always said I've been in awe with it since I was a baby. Grandma would lower the canvas to the ground and I would splatter the paint on it. I guess it just stuck."

  "I've always had an eye for good art, but never the skill to make it myself."

  Clarke smiled. "You did overpay for my painting, though."

  "Overpay?" Lexa shook her head. "Nonsense. Besides, the bidder that came in front of me wasn't far from how much I was willing to pay for it."

  "Oh," Clarke breathed out, surprised. Raven was the one that kept peeking at the paper, but she couldn't muster the courage to do it. Maybe she should have. "Are we not going to order?" she wondered.

  "Are you allergic to anything or do you strongly dislike anything other than seafood?" Lexa asked instead.

  Clarke shook her head. "No allergies and seafood is my biggest no-no."

  Lexa beamed. "Good. Then we can try the testing menu. You will love it."

  A waitress came and Clarke was surprised to hear Lexa order sparkling water while she chose regular water. She felt too embarrassed to order orange juice or coke and she couldn't legally order an alcoholic drink.

  "Do you buy a lot of art?" Clarke asked.

  "Not necessarily. I am quite picky, but like I said; oil technique is my favorite."

  "Do you have paintings from any famous artists?" Clarke continued, wanting to know more about Lexa.

  "Yes," Lexa replied with a smirk. Clarke waited for her to reveal the name. "Yours."

  Clarke flushed. "I'm not a famous artist." Hell, she hardly considered herself an artist. She didn't find her art to be good enough to share it with the world. Which was ironic, considering that was her dream.

  "Yet," Lexa pointed out. "Do you go to school?"

  "I'm sort of on a break right now. I changed my major to fine arts, but because I did it in the middle of a semester I have to catch up first."

  "Sounds intense," Lexa commented.

  Clarke shrugged and squinted a little, trying to figure out how old Lexa could be. She decided to test it with a question. "What did you study?"

  Lexa smirked and took a sip of her water. "I majored in business."

  She was obviously done with any kind of studying, Clarke realized. "That seems exhausting."

  "I enjoyed it," Lexa said vaguely. 

  A line of waiters came and they placed all kinds of different food on the table. Clarke's eyes slightly widened and her mouth watered. Everything looked and smelled so delicious. 

  Lexa motioned with her hands. "Dig in. Though, if I may, I recommend starting on the right side and slowly making your way to the left."

  Clarke was so glad she took her advice because as they were eating each plate was somehow better than the last one. Clarke asked a question every once in a while, but it was apparent that Lexa's answers were nonspecific and vague before she asked Clarke the same thing. 

  "What's your favorite color?"

  Lexa leaned back in her chair, her long fingers wrapped around the glass as she slowly swirled the sparkling water. "My, are we playing twenty questions?"

  Clarke let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was this nosy. I apologize."

  "I always had a thing for blue," Lexa replied, her green eyes staring intensely at Clarke.

  Clarke had to swallow down the sudden lump that formed in her throat and felt heat rush in her cheeks. She took a big sip of her water and cleared her throat. "There's all kinds of blue though," the artist in her said.

  Lexa's lips twitched in a smile. "What's the name for blue that matches your eyes?"

  "Depends on the day," Clarke rasped out. "Sometimes they're sky blue, sometimes they're royal blue, sometimes they're sapphire. Sometimes they just look grey."

  Lexa let out a laugh and Clarke was left mesmerized. "What's your favorite color?"

  "Black," Clarke replied without hesitation.

  Lexa made a face. "Black?"

  "Mhm. I know it's a lame answer, especially for an artist, but black is a very important color. You need it for shading, for mixing, to emphasize lines. It's not just a color for emo teens," Clarke argued as if Lexa hated the color black.

  Their conversation was interrupted by a waiter bringing dessert to them. Clarke blinked a few times, trying to figure out whether this was a dream or not. 

  Lexa scooted closer to Clarke so that they were suddenly next to each other instead of sitting opposite of each other. "This way we can share this enormous ice-cream sundae."

  Clarke dug in the sundae without hesitation, she always was weak for desserts but Lexa remained still, watching her, studying her.

  "So, Clarke," Lexa started, reaching out to lightly trace her index finger along Clarke's pinky and testing her reaction. "Why did you decide to auction one of your paintings?"

  At the first touch Clarke froze, biting down hard on the ice-cream and then wincing when the brain freeze hit her. She wasn't sure whether to pull her hand away or keep it there. Lexa's touch was kind of like playing with fire. It scorched her skin, left a burning print, but it also felt pleasantly warm and exciting. "I lost a bet," she admitted.

  Lexa leaned closer, her voice breathy. "What kind of bet, Clarke?"

  Clarke released a shuddering breath when Lexa's hand moved higher. It tickled but it also made her shiver. She was so focused on her touch she forgot Lexa even asked her a question.

  "Clarke," Lexa whispered. "Your lost bet," she reminded her.

  Clarke swallowed loudly. "Oh, right. Um, it was silly, really. Just an inappropriate, immature bet," she answered with a blush. 

  Lexa glanced at her watch and the dessert that was half finished. "Are you set to go?"

  "Yes," Clarke agreed. Though she didn't know where they were going. Dropping her home, maybe? It was nearing one am and she was surprised to see that the upper level of the restaurant was still open. 

  Lexa never asked for a check and nobody came to them so Clarke assumed she had an open tab and then followed her downstairs and outside. The cold wind made her flinch and she wrapped the blazer tighter around herself. It was custom made for Lexa though so she couldn't quite button it up.

  They climbed inside the car and Clarke immediately relaxed at the warmth.

  "Do you want to go home?" Lexa asked and then for the first time that evening looked somewhat nervous. "Or, you can come with me."

  Clarke's heart hammered inside her chest and she stared at Lexa for a long minute. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed them. She repeated the motion a few times until she decided to give up on talking and just nodded.

  "You do not have to do anything that you don't want. You don't owe me anything for buying your painting. I wanted to buy it," Lexa spoke calmly. Whatever was going to happen, or wasn't going to happen, was based purely on Clarke's thoughts and feelings.

  Clarke was a little surprised. She was half sure Lexa would blackmail her into something but instead she was given a choice. It didn't help that Lexa's hand was on her thigh, rubbing what were meant to be comforting circles but instead it made her skin burn and tingle. She bit her lip and slowly nodded.

  "I need you to say it," Lexa murmured, leaning closer to Clarke but removing her hand. "Out loud."

  "I want to," Clarke rasped out and cleared her throat after she realized just how dry her mouth was.

  Lexa leaned in even closer, nuzzling her nose against the soft skin of Clarke's neck. "Want to what?"

  Clarke shivered and she had to fight back a shudder. "I want to have sex with you."'
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