Sophia Fache wrapped up her work in New York on March 11, a Saturday.
She had planned to return to Europe that day, Gucci still had plenty demanding her attention but an invitation to a Rebould couple's soirée (party) pushed her flight to Sunday.
Around six-thirty that evening, Sophia arrived at the Gramercy Park Hotel in Midtown with Angela Ahrendts, now officially president of Gucci America.
The banquet hall was already filling; guests clustered in small groups, chatting.
The Reboulds greeted them together, exchanged pleasantries with Sophia and Angela, urged the women to mingle, then moved on to other arrivals.
New York's mayoral election was set for November; tonight's fundraiser, hosted privately by the Rebould, supported the Democratic candidate, David Dinkins.
Everyone understood the real backer was Simon himself.
Dinkins's opponent happened to be Rudy Giuliani, the former Southern District prosecutor who had once investigated Simon.
Though some friction lingered with Giuliani, the event wasn't aimed at him; it was about cultivating Westeros Company's political connections.
In mere years Simon had amassed billions. Further expansion would inevitably require dealing with the federal government.
Waiting for trouble to strike before scrambling for allies wouldn't work.
Simon had declined bringing domestic capital into the Japan play; James Rebould had warned him it missed a chance to bond with traditional American power. Simon still refused but authorized James to begin building political ties.
He approved a $10 million budget, just for this year.
In an era when most top tycoons held only a few billion, few could casually drop ten million solely for political networking. After brief surprise, James dove in.
Building political ties didn't mean betting on presidential races.
Presidents drew too much scrutiny and wielded less power than imagined; the return was low.
Backing senators, representatives, or key agency figures wove a far sturdier web.
The Koch family's entrenched influence years later had been built this way: massive annual donations ensured dozens of proxies in high federal posts, regardless of which party held the White House.
That sway shielded their sensitive energy empire from antitrust woes.
Per last year's Forbes, Charles and David Koch each held about $1.1 billion, together less than Simon. Their influence hadn't yet peaked.
Simon, reminded by James, immediately envisioned replicating the Koch model.
The Kochs had risen only in the sixties and seventies, perhaps a decade ahead. Simon, however, was younger, with ample time, and wealthier.
He committed the ten million without hesitation for James to test the waters.
He didn't play both sides but backed Democrats decisively.
If James delivered this year, Simon planned sharp budget increases next. If not, he'd replace him.
Simon hadn't shared specifics, but James didn't squander the windfall.
Janet's early-year Daenerys audit hadn't touched Westeros, yet James realized the young man who seemed so hands-off wasn't careless at all.
Since becoming Westeros president, James had managed its vast holdings impeccably; Simon rewarded generously.
The sixteen tech-board seats alone brought over a million annually. His base salary was modest, but Simon's bonuses were lavish.
Last year, including a $5 million bonus, James earned $8 million, CEO-level at many Fortune 500 giants.
Simon's personal wealth grew faster, but James didn't overestimate himself. He was content; without Simon, his law firm with his wife would yield maybe a million yearly.
And as long as Westeros thrived, James trusted Simon would reward more, beyond money, elevating the Rebould family's societal standing.
Sophia, being French, couldn't donate under the Federal Election Campaign Act. To avoid issues, James had reminded her.
Thus she attended purely for networking.
Simon was a new wealth star of just two years, but his third-ranked billions and Westeros stakes formed a vast potential network.
James excelled at cultivation.
By seven, the hall brimmed with over a hundred Hollywood stars, media moguls, tech executives, Wall Street players, and Manhattan elite.
David Dinkins, around sixty, had been Manhattan borough president.
James warmed the crowd, then Dinkins took the stage for his standard campaign pitch.
Minutes later, amid applause, the party officially began.
Film and media ties could greatly aid Gucci; Sophia and Angela worked the room, exchanging cards. Angela even arranged to personally host the female lead of Daenerys's hit [?] at the Fifth Avenue flagship tomorrow.
Celebrities were luxury's best billboards.
The soirée stretched past an hour. Sophia was chatting with Robert Iger when the Reboulds approached with an eighteen-year-old boy.
Iger smiled at the youth beside James. "Jim, finally letting Philip see the world?"
"Yes, he's off to college soon. Time he got exposure," James replied, then introduced to Sophia, "Sophie, this is my son Philip. Philip, Sophia Fache."
"Hello, Philip," Sophia said, shaking his hand and noting his faint blush. "I know your sister well. Jim says you're heading to college, which one?"
Philip glanced at his father, answered politely, "Yale, Ms. Fache."
Sophia nodded. "Yale's a wonderful school."
Brief pleasantries exchanged, the Rebolds moved on with their son.
Iger watched them go, shaking his head at Sophia. "Jim and Callie are a bit strict with the kids. Philip's been boarded these past years, even though it's Manhattan, no day student option. He's smart like Jenny but shy like her too, strong parents' doing."
Sophia had liked the polite boy. "Nothing wrong with that. I'm strict with my own children."
Elsewhere, the Reboulds circulated with their son. James's assistant whispered; hearing Dinkins was leaving, James murmured to his wife and headed for the door.
Seeing James, Dinkins shook hands again. "Jim, thanks for tonight, but I fly to Washington tomorrow morning."
"Of course," James said. After Dinkins farewelled others, James added, "I'll walk you out."
Leaving the hall, their entourages lagged discreetly.
"Actually, David, I heard something interesting, been following the Michael Milken case?"
They passed the elevator; Dinkins naturally headed for stairs. "Of course. Giuliani clung to it before leaving office. Shame he couldn't close it."
The junk-bond king's insider-trading saga was Wall Street's biggest recent scandal.
SEC and Southern District had investigated Milken since the '86 Ivan Boesky case, Boesky modeled Wall Street's protagonist, only filing heavy charges recently.
Giuliani had wanted to jail the securities titan before resigning, for massive political capital.
James held the stairwell door. "Everyone knows SEC and the prosecutor's office cooperate but compete too. SEC led on Milken. I hear last year Gary Lynch at enforcement wanted to sue, but Giuliani blocked it."
Dinkins shook his head slightly. "Normal between SEC and prosecutors, Jim."
"But," James glanced back, no one near "just a rumor, David, I heard Giuliani threatened Lynch over the phone: if Lynch filed early, Southern District would side with Milken."
Dinkins stopped, staring at James. "You sure?"
Giuliani campaigned heavily on his anti-mob and financial-crime record, the core of his bid. Threatening to defend a criminal if SEC moved first would shatter his law-and-order image.
James halted too. "David, I can only say it's highly credible. You should confirm with Lynch, not me."
Dinkins nodded, eagerness showing. He shook James's hand again. "And say hi to Simon for me. Looking forward to getting together."
James smiled. "There'll be a chance."
Business done, James didn't descend further. He watched Dinkins and aides leave, then returned upstairs.
The tale wasn't fabricated, just the source undisclosed. As a former finance lawyer, James had contacts; now with deep pockets, such things came easily.
Campaign limits capped individual donations; Dinkins might net less than the party cost.
Everyone invested in connections.
To forge them, Westeros needed weightier chips. Otherwise, even if elected, Dinkins would treat it as any donor—not a close ally.
James actually despised Giuliani.
Pure opportunist politician, switched parties for Reagan-era jobs, lacked firm principles for career gains. Overambitious yet unable to shed personal flaws; dirty hands. Mayoral run was his ceiling; higher office unlikely.