At night, in a private club on Wilshire Boulevard, Beverly Hills, Charles and Ivanka Trump were sitting on a sofa in a semi-enclosed booth enjoying the band's performance on stage.
"Why didn't you come to Las Vegas for my birthday party?" Ivanka seemed a bit upset that Charles hadn't gone to Vegas for her party this year.
Charles smiled, "You know, a lot of entertainment reporters are watching me lately, trying to get some news about me and Sumner Redstone. I need to stabilize the company's personnel."
"Hey, you're really something. Even as an outsider, I know the name of Hollywood mogul Sumner Redstone."
"Did you actually stand up to him?" Ivanka, who usually didn't care much about Hollywood affairs, couldn't help but be interested when it involved Charles Capet.
Charles leaned back lazily on the sofa, his hand caressing the woman's pale thigh, clearly having nothing to say about his relationship with Sumner Redstone at the moment.
"Come with me to Chicago tomorrow. There's a banquet in Obama, and I'll introduce you to the next President of the United States," Charles changed the topic.
Ivanka immediately got interested, glancing at Obama next to her, "Are you close with Obama? My father always looked for opportunities to connect with Obama but never had the chance!"
Charles shook his head, "Was your father really looking to connect? He just wanted to use the opportunity for publicity."
In the eyes of American millionaires, Trump was the epitome of the nouveau riche: crass, lecherous, and a show-off.
Ivanka didn't respond. She knew her own father well enough.
"Will you be attending the White House dinners in the future?" Ivanka leaned into Charles's arms and asked again.
"I probably will," Charles had been a strong supporter of Obama, raising over $50 million for his campaign and defeating Hillary among Hollywood power players.
Obama wasn't a fool; he would certainly treat a media-heavyweight benefactor like Charles well.
"That's awesome," Ivanka planted a few hard kisses on Charles's face.
"By the way, the UFC matches are yours, right?" Ivanka suddenly asked.
Charles nodded, "Bought it earlier."
"What a pity it's not WWE. The matches in Vegas are really popular," Ivanka commented.
WWE, American professional wrestling, was well-known for its ring performances. Americans loved these rough, physical contests. Football never gained global popularity for a reason.
"The UFC isn't bad either; it'll gradually develop," Charles knew that UFC's audience wasn't as large as WWE's. Would WWE even sell now?
"Let's go back. We need to leave for Chicago tomorrow and return after two or three days," Charles now had to keep an eye on some Hollywood opportunists; acquiring NBCUniversal was going to be a prolonged battle.
Walking out of the club, a gust of cold wind cleared Charles's somewhat fuzzy head as he and Ivanka got into the SUV.
Back at Capet Manor, Charles, freshly bathed and in a robe, sat on the sofa and turned on the TV to watch the news.
As the presidential election vote approached, all TV stations like Fox News, CNN, NBC, and news agencies like UPI, AP, Bloomberg, and Reuters were constantly campaigning for the candidates.
USA Today, The Washington Post, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Los Angeles Times, The Chicago Tribune, and other newspapers were filled with election ads and slogans.
After a while, a freshly bathed Ivanka, dressed in a short black sheer lace nightie, came over and sat next to Charles.
Her golden hair down, emitting a seductive fragrance, she wrapped her arms around Charles's neck, gave him a kiss, and smiled, "You seem different tonight."
Charles was puzzled, "What's different?"
"In the past, didn't you always spend a lot of time in the bath with me? Tonight you were so quiet," Ivanka explained.
Charles laughed, pulling the woman half-lying into his arms, his hand reaching out to her chest, whispering into her ear, "I was afraid that exhausting you in the bathroom meant you wouldn't have the energy for later!"
"I've been working out lately, so I might not lose to you," Ivanka said, hugging and kissing Charles.
Seeing Ivanka so proactive, Charles naturally had to satisfy her well. He flipped her over and tore off her nightie strap...
An hour and a half later, Ivanka stood up, rubbing her stiff knees and giving Charles a glare, "Satisfied now?"
"Just took a bath, and now I have to take another!" she lamented.
Charles patted her and saw her disheveled look, laughing, "Sit for a while, and we'll take a bath together later."
Relaxing, Charles squinted and took a few deep breaths, then glanced at the disheveled Ivanka resting on the sofa and teased, "Darling, your body is incredible, just like a Victoria's Secret supermodel!"
Ivanka stretched out her long legs, a slight smile playing on her lips, "Charles, you know I was a model before, appearing on many magazine covers; how else would I make a living without a good body? Do you follow the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show?"
"I've watched it twice, I think," Charles remembered watching it twice and even interacting with Alessandra Ambrosio and Adriana Lima.
Thinking about it, he seemed to miss the tall, gorgeous Alessandra Ambrosio!
"Too bad you missed this year's Victoria's Secret Show, held half a month ago at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami Beach," Ivanka mocked.
Charles shook his head, "If I were really in Miami, I'd rather go to the stadium to cheer for my team, the Miami Dolphins."
"Didn't the paper say the Dolphin Stadium is getting a name change?" Ivanka asked.
"Bank of America Center. We accepted a naming rights sponsorship from Bank of America, starting next year," Charles didn't hide anything, as Bank of America had agreed to a 15-year, $12 million per year sponsorship deal from 2009 to 2024.
"Let's take a bath; I'm quite tired," Ivanka got up, supporting her sore legs.
"Let's go," Charles replied.
*****
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