Simon was chatting with his assistant when Sophia approached from across the room, her brow slightly furrowed.
Catching the worry in her expression, Simon asked, "Something wrong?"
Sophia stopped beside him, gaze fixed on the crowd around the runway. "Colombe Pringuier, editor-in-chief of French Vogue, had confirmed she'd attend, but this evening she suddenly said something came up. Paris Match just called, the eight-page 'Gucci Night' feature we'd locked in has been pulled."
Music swelled through the hall.
The show began.
It was a theatrical presentation themed around Audrey Hepburn's Roman Holiday. Gregory Peck, the film's male lead who would soon receive a lifetime achievement award at Cannes, had even made a special appearance.
Simon surveyed the glittering gowns, the champagne, the lights, and pressed, "Anything else?"
"A number of the industry's top supermodels the past few years, Claudia Schiffer, Linda Evangelista, Naomi Campbell, Christy Turlington, all declined our invitations. And this party isn't the real issue. I'm worried that come September's fashion week, we won't be able to book them for the shows."
Simon wasn't surprised.
The luxury sector was finite. Gucci's aggressive resurgence over recent months had naturally rattled the other brands.
In North America, Gucci's revival had faced no real resistance thanks to Daenerys Entertainment's backing. But here in France, where luxury houses clustered like vines, Dior, Chanel, Hermès, Louis Vuitton, these local powers weren't about to let an outsider like Gucci run rampant on their turf.
He beckoned a passing waiter, took two glasses of red wine and handed them to the women beside him, then picked up one for himself.
"So," he said to Sophia, "what's your plan?"
Sophia sipped, thought a moment. "If it's just France giving us trouble, it's manageable."
"You handle the press. As for fashion week in September, I spotted Cindy Crawford and Helena Christensen earlier. If those supermodels don't want to walk for us, we'll find others. It's not as if every model will say no. Exposure is what they're after too. We can invite more celebrities instead, the effect will be the same, and that happens to be our strong suit."
As they spoke, the runway show ended and segued into a charity auction.
The items were the newest Gucci bags carried by the models moments ago; proceeds would go to an organization tackling famine in Africa. Simon hadn't heard of the charity, but the cause felt right. He bid twenty thousand dollars and won an elegant white bag.
The auction closed, and with it the evening drew to an end.
Though some French outlets had pulled out at the last minute, the next morning newspapers across Europe still splashed coverage of the lavish Gucci Night.
Simon knew his role as mascot well.
Simply showing his face wasn't enough; guests who'd come for him expected something in return, or they wouldn't bother next time. Accordingly, entertainment press duly ran items about Simon Westeros enjoying lively conversation with various stars at the Gucci party, hinting at possible future collaborations.
These weren't mere publicity stunts.
The seed had been planted back in Melbourne while shooting Batman.
Hollywood's global expansion in the coming years would inevitably provoke pushback from overseas markets.
If Daenerys Entertainment invested in a slate of international films each year, it could rapidly build its library, earn goodwill from filmmakers in Europe, Australia, even Asia and quietly accumulate influence by holding the careers of many in its hands.
Moreover, unlike blind investors who often lost everything, Simon's foresight from two lifetimes let him pick projects with solid profit potential.
Daenerys was still in accumulation mode; he wasn't rushing the plan.
Still, the Australian branch's investment in Peter Jackson's new film, and potentially signing a few more directors here, amounted to early groundwork.
Having fulfilled his mascot duties, Simon left Cannes and flew to Geneva, on the French-Swiss border.
Geneva, Switzerland's second-largest city, was home to CERN, the European particle physics laboratory funded by more than twenty nations.
Tim Berners-Lee was currently a computer engineer there.
By fortunate timing, Simon's impulse to seek him out had landed at the perfect moment.
In March, Tim had submitted a proposal to CERN management suggesting the labs' computers be linked via hypertext—a system that, once built, could eventually span the globe.
The proposal garnered support but was denied; CERN was a physics institute, after all. Undeterred, Tim spent two months refining it and was preparing to resubmit when Simon came knocking.
Simon had first located him through a published paper on hypertext markup.
Once in Europe, Jennifer scheduled a meeting, and Tim promptly sent over the revised proposal.
It was almost heartbreaking: the man history would call the father of the internet had spent months fighting for a budget whose biggest line item was a $6,500 NeXT computer, the high-performance machine Steve Jobs had developed for universities and research after leaving Apple.
Geneva sprawled along the southern tip of vast Lake Geneva.
As one of Europe's most livable cities, Simon hadn't overlooked it when acquiring properties. His residence sat on the lake's northern shore, a scenic estate of over three acres with its own private dock.
He arrived Saturday morning and spent the next three full days in intense discussion with Tim Berners-Lee about the future of the internet.
Tuesday, May 23.
Sophia, having wrapped up in Cannes, arrived that afternoon. Stepping into the lakeside villa's living room, she found Simon and a man in his thirties standing before a whiteboard, talking rapidly. The board was covered in terms and symbols she didn't understand at all.
Books and papers lay everywhere; two computers hummed. The placement wasn't chaotic, but it clashed with the opulent décor.
Jennifer sat nearby tending a printer that kept spitting pages.
Sophia smiled, now she knew why the room still looked halfway civilized.
She greeted Jennifer quietly. Simon noticed her but only nodded acknowledgment before resuming.
"We could create a site that lists directories of sites on the internet, make it easier for users to find content intuitively. We could also offer forums for discussion on any topic. Later we can add more services: search, communication, and so on."
"According to your vision, Simon, we'd have to push commercialization hard, or we couldn't sustain a site like that. We've talked about this for three days. I'm not against commercialization, but once we go that route competitors will emerge with rival standards, and the internet could fracture. That runs counter to connecting the whole world."
"Anyone with vision will see fragmentation isn't in anybody's interest. Even if rivals appear, everyone will eventually compromise. And Tim, I believe we can prevent that entirely because right now we have no competitors. Think of it as building a road. If many parties realize the destination at the same time and start building, you'll get multiple roads for self-interest. But if only we see it now, and we build the road fast offering substantial free access before others catch on. I doubt many will bother constructing another."
"…"
"…"
Sophia listened half-comprehending, curiously picking up a document Jennifer had just organized.
It was a proposal for a scripting language, something to add dynamic features to HTML pages.
She had only the vaguest idea what an HTML page was.
Simon and Tim talked another hour until the whiteboard was full and evening approached.
Simon introduced Sophia properly. Tim left with a thick stack of materials Jennifer had compiled. After three days they had settled many details; he'd agreed to resign from CERN soon and relocate to North America to run the new company.
Ygritte.
That was the name Simon had chosen for the internet technology company.
Ygritte or, as Simon preferred, Igritte.
Following Daenerys, Melisandre, and Cersei, Ygrittewould be the fourth "woman" under the Westeros umbrella.
He'd even devised a company motto in the spirit of Google's "Don't be evil."
One with a private joke baked in.
You know nothing!
A motto so versatile it would never need awkward removal if the company ever decided to misbehave.
As for its meaning, once Igritte rose to prominence, romantics would supply all manner of profound interpretations. Simon would never admit it came from a red-haired wildling scolding her lover's cluelessness.
In the agreed plan, Simon would invest ten million dollars for ninety percent ownership. As CEO, Tim Berners-Lee would receive ten percent, worth a million dollars at current valuation.
And if Igritte reached the scale Simon envisioned, even after dilution in later funding rounds, Tim's stake would still become enormous wealth.
Tim would resign from CERN and move to San Francisco to establish and run the company.
Simon would have preferred Los Angeles, but Silicon Valley proximity was essential for talent and technology.
First priority: finalize standards based on Hypertext Markup Language (HTML) and, like Qualcomm's 3G patent strategy, secure a comprehensive portfolio of internet patents early.
Simon had no intention of erecting tollbooths at least not in the internet's early days. The patents were insurance: maximum control when the era truly arrived.
While refining standards, Igritte would develop two pieces of software: one for web design aimed at developers, one graphical browser for ordinary users.
These tools would be the company's sharpest weapons for seizing the initiative.
The browser would always remain free. The design software would start free, later possibly splitting into free basic and paid professional versions.
Revenue from software sales would sustain operations a model Tim found acceptable given the era's constraints. He couldn't yet foresee that Simon's offhand mention of a site-directory portal was actually the plan's centerpiece.
In the original timeline, the most famous early "web directory" was Yahoo, peaking at over a hundred billion dollars during the dot-com bubble.
Unlike Yahoo, which faded after Web 1.0, Simon had already charted a sustainable path for the Igritte portal: instant messaging, email, search engine all with vast potential he understood perfectly.
Even if Igritte eventually succumbed to big-company inertia, Simon's clear view of industry trends would let him extend his internet influence through investments in other tech firms.