He hair was piled high upon her head, and her dress was tight and strapless, exposing breasts of which she was proud, since they were her own and very beautiful. Her heels were high, bringing her total height to five feet, ten inches. Her only piece of jewelry was a choker of large diamonds, a relic of a former relationship with a billionaire boyfriend. She draped a black mink cape around her shoulders and secured it at the throat with a jeweled clasp. Perfection. Her doorbell rang, and she opened it to find Howard Fine waiting for her. “I’ll walk you down to the car,” he said. “Thank you, Howard.” They emerged from the elevator to find a brigade of TV cameramen and flash photographers lining a red carpet that had been laid from the lift to the curb outside, where awaited a large limousine of a type Nathalie had never seen before. “It’s a ZIL,” Howard said to her. “No high-up Russian would be seen in anything else.”
