"By the way, before I went to Florida, I stopped by France and happened to attend Mitterrand's funeral. I was even invited to a memorial banquet."
"Why bring that up?"
"I just realized you and the former French president are quite similar."
"I'd rather hear that people are like me, not the other way around."
"Haha, alright. Mitterrand is quite like you," Grace chuckled softly, and before Simon could ask, she explained on her own: "I mean, you both had a lot of lovers. And you're both quite greedy, always dating multiple women at once. I heard Mitterrand used to meet several lovers in one night, exhausting his driver. He also competed with his political rival Chirac over who had more lovers, even sharing a woman."
"As for me, I don't share women with other men. I'd only consider it if it were with another woman."
"You bad guy," Grace playfully scolded, then added, "But in this area, you're quite similar too. Both of you were successful. At Mitterrand's funeral, his wife, lover, legitimate children, and illegitimate children all chose to attend together."
Simon gently stroked the soft curve of her waist under her blouse and asked, "Did they only attend?"
Grace was confused. "What else?"
"I thought someone might commit suicide out of grief."
Grace was momentarily moved by Simon's words and leaned in to kiss his lips softly, with a hint of affection. "Too bad I'm much older than you. I'm destined to die earlier. Otherwise, I'd martyr myself for you."
"That's not certain. With all you women draining me daily, I might outlive you. But don't do it when the time comes. It'd be embarrassing if someone old and ugly came to die for me. If someone were to martyr themselves for me, they should at least be a beautiful young girl."
Simon said this deliberately, sounding dismissive. Grace wasn't angry, though. Instead, she pressed her mature body closer to him and seriously said, "Alright, as the CEO of Elite, I'm never short on pretty girls. If... things go the way you say, I'll find some to martyr themselves for you."
"Sounds more like a burial."
"It's the same thing. Either way, I'll pick the most beautiful ones for you."
Their quiet whispers were suddenly interrupted by a voice nearby: "Hey, I feel like I'm stuck with two psychopaths. All this talk of martyrdom and burial, you're giving me goosebumps."
The atmosphere was broken. Grace glanced over at Bryce, who was sitting nearby with her feet propped up after getting her toenails painted. She spoke with a hint of displeasure in her voice: "Can't you keep being quiet?"
Bryce retorted, "No."
Grace regretted bringing Bryce along and turned to Simon instead. "Shall we go upstairs?"
"Of course."
Simon lifted Grace from the sofa and headed upstairs. Bryce immediately got up from the sofa as well, following them with a look that said, "You're not ditching me that easily."
As they walked, Grace suddenly leaned toward Simon's ear and, without lowering her voice much, whispered, "I know you've been busy in Park City these past few days. How about tonight, I just bully Bryce in front of you? I know you enjoy that."
"Sounds good."
Bryce heard this and paused for a moment before quickly catching up. She shot back, "Do you think I'm deaf? Besides, we'll see who bullies who."
The next morning, Bryce Levison, thoroughly exhausted from the previous night, stayed in bed and refused to get up. Simon and Grace, however, left the Fifth Avenue apartment together at around 8 a.m., with Simon dropping Grace off at the Elite headquarters in Midtown before heading downtown.
At the Elite Headquarters, Grace exited the elevator and was immediately greeted by her first assistant, Michelle Sonam, who was accompanied by two other deputies. Grace's demeanor was no longer the gentle one she showed around Simon. As they walked the short 20 to 30 meters from the elevator to her office, Michelle rapidly briefed her on a string of tasks. Meanwhile, the deputies took turns jotting down Grace's instructions in their notepads.
It was only 8:20 a.m. when they reached Grace's office.
There were already people waiting.
The head of Elite's planning department briefly greeted Grace with a "good morning" before diving straight into presenting the latest Chevrolet SUV television advertisement design proposal that the company was bidding for.
This was an important attempt for Elite.
In the past, Elite primarily collaborated with automotive companies by supplying models for car shows. On the rare occasions when they were involved in advertisements, their models were merely props, a situation that limited revenue. Agents had to curry favor with car company marketers to secure work for their models.
Now, Elite sought an equal partnership.
The packaged advertisement plan's core would, of course, feature Elite's models. Grace had personally selected Chrissy Gough, still in Australia filming Jumanji. The doll-faced girl not only possessed looks that charmed men, but her versatile image made her perfect for various roles. In Jumanji, Chrissy portrayed a strong female warrior, a look that paired perfectly with Chevrolet's SUV branding.
Starring in a commercial didn't necessarily mean landing an endorsement deal, especially for models, who sat at the bottom of the entertainment and fashion industry's food chain.
But Grace wasn't satisfied with just that.
With last year's The Man from Earth and this year's soon-to-be-released Jumanji under her belt, Grace hoped to secure a full endorsement deal for Chrissy Gough with Chevrolet.
Who says supermodels can't endorse cars?
In addition to the well-prepared package, Elite was betting on an unconventional marketing approach that could deliver unexpected results.
As Chrissy Gough's career gained momentum in Hollywood, her focus would likely shift towards acting. But as long as Elite secured high-profile jobs for her, their collaboration could continue for a long time. Plus, Elite would naturally take a cut from any work they obtained for her.
Both Grace and the planning department weren't 100% confident about this attempt, but they were giving it their all.
While discussing the proposal, Grace also made a phone call to Australia to discuss some details with Chrissy Gough personally. Given the time difference, it was almost midnight in Australia. Despite a long, exhausting day, Chrissy showed no impatience or reluctance during the call.
That phone call alone consumed 40 minutes of Grace's morning, which she had carved out specifically to arrive early at the office.
At 9 a.m., the official workday began.
This was followed by Elite's senior management meeting, where department heads and core agents reported the progress of various projects they were working on. Some of the European and Asian leaders even joined the meeting via conference call.
This was in stark contrast to the Elite of John Casablancas's time. Back then, Elite had grown too large and disorganized. The company appeared bloated and inefficient, with employees' hearts not in their work, and Casablancas was barely holding onto his power and interests.
The restructured Elite had become a well-oiled machine.
Efficient, unified.
And powerful.
Staff were motivated and driven. With these changes becoming increasingly evident, even those who initially resisted Grace's reforms no longer opposed them.
The key reason? Many people's incomes were rising.
While Elite's transformation had only just been completed, a once bloated, slow, and inefficient company had been revitalized. The owners and executives were not greedy, and they were willing to share profits with employees and clients. With the expansion of revenue streams, everyone's income naturally increased.
It might sound crude, but money has always been the most powerful tool to change someone's attitude.
After the meeting, Grace threw herself into a variety of specific tasks, another hallmark of the talent agency business. In other industries, a leader might focus on big-picture decisions and leave the details to others.
But in the talent management world, it's an endless stream of day-to-day minutiae.
By midday, Grace had made over thirty phone calls and filled five memo sheets with details, covering everything from Fernanda Lima's VOGUE cover shoot arrangements to Claudia Schiffer's ongoing negotiations for her Revlon endorsement deal.
Time flew by amid this hectic pace.
That evening, she had dinner plans with her family, so she left work at 6 p.m. Fortunately, the family's hired chef was skilled, sparing Grace from cooking. This gave her some time before dinner to chat with her children and fulfill her role as a mother.
It also served as a moment of rest.
Despite working hard, Grace hadn't neglected her health. She followed strict guidelines on diet, body maintenance, and regular skincare, all overseen by professionals. Ever since she met a certain younger man two years ago, her appearance had notably improved, leading her daughter Rita to joke that if this continued, people might mistake them for sisters when they went out together.
Bill Spert, Grace's husband, didn't return home until nearly 7 p.m.
Recently, a significant portion of Bill's attention had been on the upcoming IPOs of two of Westeros's key companies, Tin Cobel and Melisandre. While the announcements had been made last year, the positive trend in the U.S. stock market allowed for a slow and steady approach, much to the anticipation of Wall Street investors.
Tin Cobel was finally gearing up for its roadshow, with plans to list on the stock exchange next month.
Melisandre's IPO wouldn't be far behind.
While Grace didn't bring up work when spending time with her husband, she knew his latest trip to New York was primarily for Tin Cobel's IPO.
Of course, there were
other reasons too.
After all, this was his first time back in New York a month after his Christmas vacation in Australia. There was bound to be a backlog of work.
Though First Boston wasn't the lead underwriter for the IPOs, Bill's securities trading division had secured a portion of the stock underwriting business.
It was clear that these moves were designed to nurture relationships.
Grace knew this wasn't because of her. Her husband was just another pawn in Simon Westeros's strategic layout across Wall Street.
She had no qualms about this.
After all, many people would gladly be Simon Westeros's pawn but couldn't even secure the opportunity.
In a way, so was she.
What these scattered pawns would eventually accomplish, she didn't think much about.
All that mattered was she was willing to give everything for him.
When Bill returned, the family soon sat down to dinner. During the meal, it was mentioned that there was a cocktail party for Tin Cobel's upcoming IPO roadshow at the Hilton Hotel in Midtown later that evening. Bill asked if she wanted to join, casually mentioning that Simon Westeros was expected to attend.
Grace had just mentioned that she'd flown back from Miami that morning. Whether Bill believed her or not, the kids certainly didn't suspect anything.
After a brief hesitation, she agreed.
Their daughter, now blossoming into a lovely young woman, expressed a strong desire to attend, eager to meet Simon Westeros and ask for an autograph. But she was promptly turned down by both parents.
Their daughter was clever.
Both Grace and Bill knew it.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have her boyfriend, Levitson, wrapped around her finger.
The couple knew that bringing her in front of Simon Westeros could reveal certain truths they'd rather keep hidden.
At 8 p.m., after dinner, the couple quickly changed into formal attire. Bill's driver was already waiting downstairs. Grace now had her own personal driver, though she seldom used him around her family unless absolutely necessary.
It took about ten minutes to travel from the Upper East Side to the Hilton Hotel in Midtown.
During the ride, the couple conversed like any ordinary married pair, showing no signs of the underlying distance between them.
Things had long since changed.
They now resembled two long-standing, close friends of the opposite sex. Grace was also aware that her husband's mistress was pregnant. Bill had been very open about it, deciding to keep the child but signing an agreement that it wouldn't affect their current arrangement.
Financial support wasn't an issue for Bill Spert these days.
Grace didn't mind.
Sometimes she even fantasized about whether she could have a child with him too.
But it remained just a fantasy.
She knew about Sophia Fessy, the head of Melisandre, who had given Simon twins, but she didn't dare hope for the same. It was mainly for Simon's sake. Besides, she already had two children, and her life wasn't lacking.
Upon arriving at the Hilton, the cocktail party was already underway.
It didn't take long to spot that familiar figure.
Simon was never without female company, and this time there were two.
Asian women.
Both were stunning and elegant.
Since Chen Qing was quite active in the Manhattan social circle, Grace had encountered her before, and they recognized each other.
Just being near Simon occasionally was enough to satisfy her; she wasn't greedy. So, she didn't feel any jealousy seeing him with two other women. During a brief moment when the two women stepped away, Grace teasingly reminded him to take it easy. After all, last night, he hadn't exactly held back—nor had he tried to.
She definitely didn't want him to be drained by women. That would never happen, of course.
She knew very well how much self-control he had.
She couldn't help but think about Bryce, still lounging at his Fifth Avenue apartment, and playfully teased him, wondering how he planned to handle things that night.
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