"Good to know." The queen smirks, wiping a bit of lipstick away from the corner of her mouth, her fingertip coming up purple. "New-ish. I was Nine's assistant Stylist for three years before. Well. You know." Her predecessor had made a very bad PR move, it was widely known. "And now here I am, soaking up the fucking limelight." She pauses for effect. "Also known as locking myself away in the dark for days on end, hand-beading gowns."

His handshake is rough, certainly, but Oceana isn't deterred, and her own shake is surprisingly strong. "Well, you couldn't pay me enough to Escort, so kudos to you for doing the fucking job competently."