The pair shared whispered giggles before finally taking the time to survey their opulent surroundings. The exquisite and elegant decor, with its sleek yet intricate details, was a feast for the eyes, exuding modernity and style. Everywhere they looked, they saw impeccably dressed elites.
"Mariah Carey, Beyonce, oh my god, that's Madonna!" Nasstya whispered in astonishment.
"That's real estate magnate Peter N Brant," Alexondra, having different priorities, pointed out a grey flannel-suited elder. Her gaze then shifted. "Time Warner shareholder Carl Icahn, property tycoon Donald Trump..." The high-profile attendees were numerous, suggesting Bruce Lee wielded more influence than she'd imagined.
"Which means..." Alexondra's eyes sparkled with an idea as she searched around Trump, quickly spotting her target: a blonde beauty in an off-shoulder white gown. This woman was even more famous than the flamboyant real estate tycoon: supermodel, Trump Group Vice President, and owner of several brands, Ivonka Trump.
"Ivonka!" Alexondra had crossed paths with the golden-key-born supermodel on multiple occasions. At the very least, they could be considered acquaintances. Pulling Nasstya with her, they joined the conversation. Despite Alexondra's seemingly brash nature, she managed to engage with ease, deftly steering the conversation towards fashion topics.
Soon, the party organizer invited everyone to ascend to the rooftop garden. As they made their way, they spotted an elegant stage at the garden's rear, with Archibald taking the role of emcee: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's gathering. Please allow me to introduce a distinguished young man, a genius scientist, the developer of 'Vilda' and the owner of 'The Top of the Sun Shine', Bruce Lee!"
Warm applause erupted, coupled with murmurs. Some felt the introduction slightly arrogant.
By now, darkness had settled. The garden's lights illuminated the stage as if it were daytime. Bruce, in a snug white suit, took to the stage. His unconventional attire, combined with his youthful demeanor and handsome features, was striking without being ostentatious.
"Thank you for that flattering introduction. Please remember to send the invoice later," he quipped, eliciting laughter, implying a bribe for the glowing introduction.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and friends, I apologize for the delay. You see, I'm slightly acrophobic. Darkness helps, as I can't see the height," he joked, feigning wiping away nonexistent sweat and drawing more laughter.
He understood that while America ostensibly championed racial equality, subtle biases persisted. Bruce's own experiences spoke to this, his exceptional achievements notwithstanding.
In a sense, Bruce's unique aura combined with his devilish charm led to the mysterious figure he had become. While his wealth bridged some gaps, true acceptance into the upper echelons required more.
Like a lion on the hunt, Bruce needed to lie low, stalk from the shadows, and strike with precision at the opportune moment.
The refined ladies in attendance seemed taken with Bruce's playful rhetoric, and any prior displeasure evaporated with their laughter. With the atmosphere set, Bruce began his speech, blending humility with gratitude. His youth, looks, and unique flair, combined with his eloquence, captivated his audience.
"As many of you know, what I cherish most is making new friends. I welcome every sincere individual. I hope you all have a wonderful time tonight, and if you need anything, please reach out to our good friend, Archibald."
Bruce smoothly raised his glass in conclusion, giving a nod of appreciation to Archibald, who was somewhat taken aback by the gesture. Although tonight's guests were invited by the Citibank Group, it didn't necessarily mean these affluent celebrities would regard him, the Deputy Manager of Personal Client Services, with much esteem. Indeed, due to his successful acquisition of Bruce as a significant client, Archibald had received a slight promotion.
After Bruce's speech, it was time for mingling, drinking, and free interaction. Of course, the stage was occupied by an invited orchestra and celebrity singers, ensuring the atmosphere never grew dull or monotonous.
"Mr. Lee doesn't seem particularly thrilled," Archibald quietly commented, standing nearby.
"Excitement doesn't equate to success. Besides, the true top-tier power players aren't present tonight," Bruce responded, sipping his champagne.
"I'm sorry... Mr. Lee..." Archibald began, appearing somewhat anxious, but Bruce interrupted him.
"You're doing a fine job. I'm not blaming you, nor am I displeased with Citibank," Bruce said with a gentle smile, showing no sign of irritation. To be honest, the fact that Citibank had managed to invite so many notable figures was already somewhat surprising to him. Given his relatively recent ascent and position, many might simply regard him as a nouveau riche, making the absence of the genuine elites understandable.
"Besides, we haven't come away empty-handed. Keep up the good work; you're doing great," he reassured, patting Archibald's shoulder before walking forward with a smile.
"Mr. Lee, allow me to introduce Mr. Bill Blasio," Jessica Pearson, standing next to a tall middle-aged Caucasian man, greeted Bruce with a smile.