Chapter 70

Early on the third day, Winnie arrived at Anne's studio. Anne's studio was filled with clothes, shoes, and jewelry. Three sides of the room were lined with racks full of dresses, all potential options for Winnie. Winnie had already looked at the lookbook earlier, so she had a general idea of what to expect for today's outfits. Anne had done her best. "For an event like the Fashion Gala, with your status, you have to wear haute couture, but I've already asked everything I could..." Anne swiped through the lookbook on her iPad and handed it to her. "Ready-to-wear is no problem. I can offer runway pieces, and I have a few off-season ones as well. But you need to be prepared, ready-to-wear can't compare to the elaborate craftsmanship of haute couture." "What about Sum from last time?" Wendy asked. "Sum did offer a gown, but this time it's very ordinary and conventional. I don't think it's dramatic enough. The cut, the craftsmanship, the materials—it's all just standard, not worthy of your stature. It'll get overshadowed by others," Anne gave her analysis seriously. "The ready-to-wear options I picked for you, or the pieces from independent designers, will stand out more." "So now there are two choices," Yulia summarized. "Whether it's Sum or ready-to-wear, people will nitpick." "Elva is so childish," Wendy added, "she's in her forties, and still goes around trying to isolate you by forming cliques." Winnie efficiently gave her order, "Let's try them on first." She went into the fitting room, while Wendy looked thoughtful. Winnie was a genius-level actress, and putting together a haute couture look wouldn't be difficult at all. In fact, now the leading names among European and American elites weren't just wearing the latest haute couture, but vintage haute couture. Wendy knew that with Van's connections, getting a few rare vintage haute couture pieces was very simple. After Van finished his morning meeting, he received a call from his cousin. On the phone, she eagerly went on about fashion gala events and dresses. Wendy's voice was intentionally lower as she spoke, "So that's the situation. Why don't you just borrow a dress?" Van rubbed his temples, his response calm and indifferent, "No." Wendy was taken aback by his cold reaction. "Well, if you think borrowing a dress is embarrassing, just buy her one..." Van's tone remained cold as he said, "It's not the right time." He paused for a few seconds before slowly continuing, "Is this really that important?" "It's neither important nor unimportant. People will mock her online for a while," Wendy shrugged, "But it's okay, there's always next time. She'll wear what she wants later." Van was silent for a moment, then asked, "What is she doing?" "She's trying on clothes," Wendy glanced back at the fitting room. "I think it'll take the whole day. I won't keep you any longer, bye." Winnie did indeed spend the whole day trying on clothes. The makeup and styling needed to be seen as a whole to be effective. Anne had spent hours carefully selecting haute couture pieces, determined to give Winnie the best service and make up for her past mistakes. She poured all her effort into every detail—accessories, hairstyles, everything—to help Winnie make the best choice. After taking off the twelfth outfit, Winnie stopped Anne. "Let's go with Sum's dress. It's easier to make something even better. Please thank the designer who provided this dress for me. Wendy, help me pick out a few gifts to send to him after the event." Once everything was settled, it was already dusk. Winnie stretched lazily, her posture relaxed. "Let's go, accompany me to have French food." Suddenly, her phone vibrated, and when she saw "Mr. Marlowe" on the screen, her heart skipped a beat. She got into the car and lazily leaned back against the back seat. "Hello, Mr. Marlowe." "Where are you?" "We're on our way to Sunrise Plaza." "Go to the third underground level, send me your parking spot, and I'll come pick you up." There were two assistants with her in the car. Her face flushed for some reason, and she lowered her voice, "I can come find you." Van didn't give her a chance to respond before hanging up. Just fifteen minutes later, the Maybach slid down into the third-level underground parking of the mall. Winnie put on a full set of hat, mask, and sunglasses, and quickly slipped into the back seat of the Maybach. "Cold?" Van remarked, noticing how bundled up she was. "No, I'm about to take it off—" Van grabbed her hand before she could remove her coat, glancing at the sheer skirt on her lower half. "Don't take it off, you'll catch a cold." Van bypassed her upper body and thoughtfully lowered the air conditioning by three degrees. Winnie was soaked in sweat, and as she noticed the direction becoming more unfamiliar, she couldn't help but ask, "Where are we going?" Van replied nonchalantly, "Accompany me to Europe, for a meeting." Winnie was stunned: "Now?" "Now."