The event had yet to start officially, so James took the opportunity to move through the room, and look around.
He move with calm and unhurried steps, as he scanned and silently observed the whole place and everyone.
Unlike the more intimate setting of the Chef's Table luncheon earlier in the day, the West Ballroom now pulsed with quiet power.
It was grand without being gaudy, with golden lighting spilling down from crystal chandeliers overhead, casting a soft glow across polished marble floors and walls painted in warm cream and silver accents.
Every corner deliberately held something elegant — either a sculpture, an antique floral vase, or a strategically placed wine tower behind glass.
The air itself held weight, a subtle blend of aged oak, rich perfumes, and dry wine bouquets drifting from half-filled glasses.
