He could have been a celebrity himself, wearing a tuxedo that made his shoulders a dark block of strength, as if he'd stepped out of a Bond film. Genuine delight had lit his eyes when Governor Stanton, arriving without his wife, had squired Margrit around the room for half an hour, making introductions.

She liked the tall, unhandsome politician, their camaraderie genuine. They'd greeted Mayor Leighton together, Margrit focusing hard not to wipe her hand on her dress after she extracted her fingers from his clammy grip. Stanton had pursed his mouth curiously at her expression, but said nothing, his silence conveying a subtle sense of agreement with her feelings toward the mayor.

He introduced her to Kaimana Kaaiai before excusing himself. The philanthropist struck her as Daisani's nearly perfect opposite: a big man with very dark eyes who spoke with an easy Pacific Islands lilt, he seemed almost embarrassed by the attention his money brought. Margrit felt an unexpected rush of sympathy for him, and, as if he sensed that, he gave her a rueful smile before turning to the newest group to be introduced. Margrit slipped away, finally at ease, and spent hours chatting with people, until she realized the reception room was beginning to clear out. Only then, noticing how badly her feet hurt, did she retreat to a corner to remove her shoes. Even accustomed as she was to both running daily and wearing heels, stilettos still made her feet ache, "I should've brought tennies to wear home," she mumbled to them. "I've already lost all my cool points by taking my shoes off at the Sherry."

"On the contrary. Think of it as a... humanizing factor." Eliseo Daisani's Italian leather shoes came into Margrit's line of sight and she ducked her head.