Predictably, Winn was pulled almost immediately into conversation with the investors. He handled them effortlessly, a smooth smile here, a confident nod there, his charm dialed to lethal.
Ivy found herself speaking with Bernard's wife—a stunning woman in her fifties wearing a soft pink dress and diamonds subtle enough to be intimidating.
"Ivy, dear, thank you for coming," she said warmly, taking Ivy's hands.
Ivy asked if she had received the birthday present she had sent ahead—a rare perfume blend.
"Oh, I loved it," the woman gushed, eyes bright.
They spoke for a few minutes, touching briefly on Amsterdam sights, and how stressful managing an empire could be. The men think they are the soul, but they are the brains and the power. Then, in perfect hostess fashion, she excused herself.
"Duty calls, I'm afraid. Go enjoy yourself."
Ivy smiled back, watching her glide seamlessly into another circle of guests. She lifted her glass and downed it.
