"Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mayor." This was precisely the kind of influential figure Bruce had been waiting for.
With the right introduction, he could more naturally and smoothly integrate himself into this elite circle. Jessica Pearson was the perfect person for this. This exceptional African-American woman had a social network beyond most people's imagination. Clearly, she smartly understood Bruce's intentions.
"Good evening, Mr. Lee. May I call you Bruce?" Bill Blasio inquired warmly and straightforwardly, lacking any pretense.
"My pleasure, and please allow me to call you Bill." As Blasio observed him, Bruce also took the opportunity to size up this well-known Democrat. In the political sphere of the U.S., the name of the Mayor of New York often carried more weight than many national officials in Washington. The NYC Mayoral election was pivotal, capturing attention across the U.S. and even globally.
Bill Blasio was a legend. Born as Warreen Wilhellm JR., he changed his surname to his mother's after his father committed suicide due to alcoholism at 18. His wife was African American, a classic interracial marriage. Media frenzies also ensued as Blasio's "black first lady" once publicly admitted she had been a lesbian, discussing her same-sex attractions in her youth in a 1979 cover story for Essence magazine before eventually opting for a traditional marriage.
Bill Blasio's children attended public schools, with his son's retro afro hairstyle becoming a media sensation. His daughter preferred loose curls, often adorned with a rose garland. Some joked that Blasio's family hairstyles were his campaign trail, referring to it as "hair politics" – showcasing diversity and an affinity towards people of color.
"Haha, I must admit, Bruce, I'm impressed. Your understanding of American culture is profound. Had I not known about your upbringing, I'd assume you grew up here," Blasio remarked with infectious energy and charm.
"That might be due to my adaptability," Bruce nonchalantly shrugged.
"I believe so. New York welcomes doers and elites like you. I look forward to further interactions," Blasio said with perhaps an overly friendly demeanor, even given Jessica's introduction. There were no favors without reason. Bruce instinctively glanced at Archibald, sensing Citibank's strong ties with Blasio.
After some pleasantries, Bruce moved on, ensuring every important guest felt his sincerity on this crucial evening.
This was the essence of social events: continuous pleasantries and interactions, seemingly mundane yet crucial. After making the rounds, Bruce finally relaxed and spotted his main targets for the evening, or rather, two targets.
Alexondra and Nasstya were seated nearby, chatting. He approached, and Archibald whispered, "That's real estate mogul Donald Trump."
Bruce quickly glanced at the elder man sitting close to Nasstya, sensing that his target might have been claimed. A playful smirk graced his lips.
"Good evening, Mr. Trump. A pleasure to meet you," he greeted, shaking hands with the risen Donald Trump.
"Good evening, Mr. Lee. Great party, even better house," Donald commented, lifting his chin. His children and their quirky hairstyles, often discussed in New York's media, highlighted his unconventional family dynamic. Yet his fame was more rooted in skyscrapers, yachts, and opulence than mere family tales.
"Coming from Mr. Trump, I can only feel humbled." Bruce noted the eccentricities associated with Trump, from gold-plated doors in his Fifth Avenue apartment to his larger-than-life persona.
Still, glancing at the young women surrounding him, Trump chuckled, "I think I should leave some space for the younger generation." He patted Bruce's shoulder amiably and sauntered off with his drink.
Bruce mused maliciously, perhaps age was catching up, and time was the true enemy of playboys.
"Mr. Trump seems very jovial and friendly," Nasstya observed.
"Thank you, Nassy. I thought so too," Bruce responded, glancing at the beauties seated opposite him. "I feel as if I'm amidst stars. Ladies, your radiance illuminates the night. Frankly, even if Mr. Trump had asked me to leave, I wouldn't have."
The women, each beautiful in her unique way, giggled at his blatant self-mockery, drawing admiring glances from many in the vicinity.
"Alex, Nassy, may I address you as Ivonka without seeming presumptuous?" Although such a mode of address would usually be too familiar for a first meeting, Bruce's candid manner seemed to win over the ladies. None of them protested.
Ivonka Trump, the blue-blooded lady, gently extended her slender hand, smiling, "Hello, Bruce, thank you for the invitation."
"My pleasure, Ivonka." Bruce politely shook her hand and then swiftly released it, directing his attention to the other two women. "And to the Hearst ladies."
"That seems a bit biased, Bruce," Lydiah Hearst playfully remarked. As the great-granddaughter of newspaper magnate William, compared to her elegant socialite cousin, Amanda Hearst, Lydiah appeared to lead a freer, more whimsical life. Perhaps it was her choice not to continue in the family business, opting to make her own way as a professional model, which made her come off more casual and genuine.
Lydiah Hearst once posed for a risqué, semi-nude cover shoot for the family's "Esquire" magazine, solidifying her status as a prominent figure in New York's high society. Additionally, she served as the inspiration for Serena's character design in the popular TV series "Gossip Girl."
"My bad!" Bruce conceded, spreading his hands in a carefree manner. "It's an honor to have you both, Lydiah and Amanda, at today's gathering."
Despite their illustrious backgrounds, all three women, either full-time or part-time, pursued modeling, highlighting the importance of beauty alongside wealth and intellect. But compared to the young and less experienced Nasstya and Alexondra, they handled such social situations with finesse and ease.
After brief exchanges, Ivonka, Lydiah, and Amanda prepared to depart. Bruce gracefully rose to see them off, bidding farewell without unnecessary prolongation. His crisp, efficient demeanor seemed to earn him points. The departing trio all smiled, exchanging contact details. Lydiah even shot him a flirtatious glance.
What they missed, however, was Bruce's smile as he turned away. The key principle in hunting is to know when to choose and when to let go. Blindly casting a wider net only yields nothing. After all, these 'preys' are still in the same 'jungle', and they're bound to cross paths again, right?