Chapter Fifteen: The Companion at the Cocktail Party (Part Two)
Miranda Lawson was not a vain woman. She listed her accomplishments as facts, and her looks were merely a part of that, but as she sat in her apartment getting ready for the Iaso fundraiser, even she had to admit: She looked good.
Her cream dress hugged her figure in all the right places and finished at her knees. The boat neck style gave her a sophisticated look, while allowing her to maintain the air of authority she needed to wrangle money and support out of politicians and socialites.
It had all been Oriana's idea, of course. She had been the one to suggest working together on a project to support those in desperate need during the re-building process. Pairing Miranda's drive for results and comfort around rich, elitist types with Oriana's compassion and empathy had been more than a smart move: it had been a calculated one.
It was through Miranda's contacts that they had gotten an in with the current political parties vying for control, but it had been Oriana's openness that had cemented the cordial relationships. And so, Miranda watched as her sister, looking slightly uncomfortable in her fancy dress, was picked up by Gerry Houghton and whisked off to a political rally before their charity event.
Miranda ruminated on their success as she pushed her small, but effortlessly stylish, golden earrings through her ear lobes. Their charity, Iaso - named for the daughter of the Greek God of medicine - had become a surprisingly stimulating focus. Originally she had been on board as a means of supporting and protecting her sister, not really expecting to find any engagement in the mundane, day-to-day tasks of running and maintaining a charity organization.
But she had found a certain peace in her work. Many of those she interacted with were Alliance military personnel who had been displaced or injured during the war, but it was far more than giving our clothes to those in need. They had medical outreach programs, organized artificial limb replacements for those who needed them, supplied temporary housing and access to work placement programs. This brave, new world had surprisingly similar needs to the old one. Even some of the security for tonights event had been sourced through Iaso.
And so, it was Mirandas current role that gave her the most joy. She was able to spend time with her sister - almost too much time - and was able to meaningfully contribute to the changes taking place in the world around her. She hoped, that with time, Iaso would grow to be a global force for good, but for now, it was enough work to try and keep Vancouver and the surrounding areas supported.
That was where this event came in. They needed the resources and support of whoever took over political office when the military finally returned control to a civilian government, and whether that was Gerry Houghton or not, it was Miranda's intention to have the new leader of humanity firmly on her side.
Still sitting in front of her dresser mirror, Miranda pulled a pair of cream heels onto her feet, before standing and smoothing down the front of her dress. Handbags and purses had become a thing of the past with the invention of the Omni-tool, but Miranda had taken classes on carrying and using one as a child, and she found a certain level of faux protection with her golden clutch in hand, and there was something effortlessly elegant about seeing her freshly manicured nails resting against the subtle shine of her bag.
She rose, and walked to the door, hips swaying with practiced ease, even though there was no one there to see her. She had wrestled with the thought of driving herself to the party, but given the expectations of the people in attendance, she had relented to Oriana's insistence, and had agreed to take a car provided by Iaso.
The journey was relatively quick, and she found that she arrived to the Old Vancouver Art Gallery with time to spare, thanking her driver and the enormous man who was clearly working door security who opened her door. Unlike that of her sisters, Miranda's arrival was a fairly quiet, and unremarkable affair, with no sudden flashes of photographers and no cheers from the assembled civilians gathered in the public space across from the square. While a few would be likely to recognize her as Miranda Lawson, most would see her as the enigmatic head of the charity she represented.
Not wanting to waste the extra time she had attainted in arriving early, she pushed through the crowd and marched with purpose into the gallery proper, sharing brief smiles and waves at the guests that approached her, offering quick "I'll be right back's" or "just making sure everything is set up" to those that appeared to want to engage in a longer conversation.
She had made her way into the gallery when one of the support staff approached her, and asked her to confirm some details for the art auction that provided the majority of the entertainment for the evening. They had managed to source a piece from an elcor artist, and the assistant wanted to know where in the line up they should add it. It was here, discussing the pros and cons of adding a new piece this late, that Oriana found her sister.
"Randa! There you are." Oriana approached her sisters back, as Miranda and another woman poured over a datapad with names and numbers zipping across the screen.
"I agree, Abigail, I think we should add it to the line up, but maybe closer to the end. The artist is a big enough name that most people will want a look, but not significant enough that most will want to open their wallets for. Perhaps Mrs. Raddison would be interested, she is always more interested in the abstract works, and if we can get her and Mr. Hannover into a bidding war, that could spark some interest and raise some funds."
"Alright, I'll go and spread some rumours to the main interested parties. How do you feel about having it at thirteen? Before the work by Conrad Harris?"
"Yes. That would fit the theme. Harris' work continues the abstract theme, but his work is more sought after." Miranda and her assistant continued to stare intently at the data pad, moving things around and adding annotations here and there.
It wasn't until Oriana interrupted them, that Miranda even seemed to realize her sister was there.
"Miranda!" Oriana said with force, waving her hand between her sisters face and the datapad. "Will you stop working for one second?"
"What-? Sorry, Ori, I didn't see you there."
"Thanks, I figured that one out." Oriana rolled her eyes. "Will you please come and mingle? And have at least one glass of the champagne you bought?"
Miranda smiled. "Of course, Ori." Turning back to her assistant, "are you okay to set all of that up, Abigail?"
"Absolutely, Dr. Lawson. I'll get the gossips chatting about the piece from the hanar, and see if we can get interest from the Raddison's and Mr. Hannover."
The assistant nodded, tucked the data pad under one arm, and then disappeared back into the main body of the gallery.
"Alright, Ori, I'm all yours." Miranda turned to her sister, smiling wryly at the energy practically radiating off her sister. "How was the rally? Did Gerry manage to win over some support?"
Oriana linked arms with her sister, before steering her outside with a little more force than was strictly necessary, as if afraid that her sister would run back inside at the first opportunity.
"I think so. The people seemed engaged, and his rhetoric was on point. Just like we practiced. I honestly think people are starting to see him as a man of the people, who will work for the people, but I'm not naive enough to think that that is enough to combat the political ambitions of Renard."
"You know that if Gerry doesn't win, we are still going to have to work with Leo, don't you?"
"I know." Oriana sighed, "but it would be much easier if Gerry was elected. I guess if that doesn't happen, you can be the political attache, and I can organize events like these."
"Excuse me?" Miranda said, clutching at imaginary pearls in mock horror, "And what do you mean by 'policitcal attache'?"
Oriana laughed, "You know what I mean. Leo Renard is many things, and one of the things that he is, is obvious. And obviously, Miranda, he likes you."
Miranda smiled. While it was true that Renard had taken a liking to her, it was more because that was the reaction she was designed to elicit, and she had no desire to be a notch on his bed post, or worse, a trophy that he could wheel out to impress his equally obvious friends.
Miranda spent the next few minutes chatting and mingling, rubbing elbows with the members of society with the political, or monetary, clout she needed to continue her work. With Oriana by her side, the pair were unstoppable, gaining favours and support from the whole spectrum of attendees. And with the sun warming the afternoon sky, Miranda felt the most content she had felt in a long time.
It was with a clinking of silver against glass that this heady atmosphere was brought back to reality. Gerry Houghton had volunteered to speak first, more as a way to introduce Miranda than for any actual real need, but it was a nice gesture.
A polished wooden podium had been centred on the middle plateau in the wide staircase leading up to the entrance of the gallery, and it was here that Gerry Houghton had tapped his glass in front of the microphone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, distinguished guests." He began, "I want to thank you all for coming to this wonderful event. In a moment, I will let our host take over but I personally wanted to thank the wonderful pair that has worked so tirelessly to see this city restored." He gestured to Oriana and Miranda who were standing a few steps below him, before leading the crowd in a polite applause.
"It's amazing to see the strides that just two people can accomplish, and I look forward to seeing what they can continue to achieve in the future. So let's make sure that we support them, and their cause, as fully as we possibly can."
Again, the crowd gave a short, polite applause.
"And now, without further ado, I introduce the woman whose grace and style has captured us all. Please welcome me in introducing, Dr. Miranda Lawson."
The applause that followed was a little more lively. It hadn't been a bad introduction, Miranda mused as she climbed the few remaining stairs to the podium, but Gerry Houghton just didn't have the charisma of someone like Leo Renard, and so his ability to ignite a crowd with excitement just wasn't as pronounced. Although, at least Houghton didn't ignite the crowd with something less abstract and more actually flammable, if the rumours about Renard's dealings with xenophobic fringe groups were to be believed.
Miranda allowed herself to be kissed on the cheek, and quietly thanked Houghton, offering him a warm smile before turning to face the crowd.
Hello everyone." Her smooth Australian accent had lost none of its charm. "I'd like to thank you all for your attendance here, but I'd especially like to thank my sister for her support in bringing you all together."