The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 22

The grand opening of the Asylum

Levant and Rachel stood holding hands near the entrance to the lavish mansion they now called the Asylum. It was early evening, and the pathway lighting came on automatically. As guests arrived at the modernist villa, anticipation filled the air, and they were greeted by an entrance hall that exuded elegance and sophistication. The double doors swung open to reveal a grand foyer that served as a captivating prelude to the soirée unfolding within. The sounds of soft jazz permeated the space, setting the mood for the evening's festivities. A pianist serenaded the arriving guests from a grand piano strategically positioned near the entrance, their melodies cascading through the air, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and charm.

Rachel was sending another post on her phone. Her real fingernails had grown long enough not to need the acrylics, but the change in weight needed getting used to. She also wore a couple of heavy platinum rings, so typing felt tricky. Levant stood near by glass in hand, greeting the arrivals.

Behind Levant was a painting of his first wife, Jane. It didn't fit the modernist aesthetic and had been relegated by the art curator to the entrance space. Rachel looked back at the main area, where a large portrait of Levant now hung. The huge painting practically the size of a black sail, depicted a labyrinth with rough edges, resembling the sea. When squinting at the picture, the walls and dead ends of the maze seemed to merge, forming a hollow likeness of Levant himself at the centre. The portrait hung over the room, captivating the gaze of those who dared to venture there. Rachel had asked her friend, Brooke Sterling, to paint his portrait as a housewarming gift for Levant. She wasn't sure if such a large painting put up just ten minutes before the party started would stay up or, fall and crush the guests.

"Are you okay?" Levant said. "You look a little nervous."

What Rachel wanted to say was that she just had a text from Dr Cooper saying the result from the AFG test confirmed the results of the paper Kintraff test. She scored as feminine as Dorris Day with a dash of Brandy Clark. Just what she wanted, sitting for two hours with a lump of metal up her ass watching porn just to hear what she didn't want to know. Rachel wasn't sure how she was so attracted to Charlie and yet scored so highly on these tests. Science was saying she thought like a woman. Telling her mother would be painful, she might never speak to her again.

"I'm okay." Rachel said."Is my hair okay?"

She had only had it done this morning, the lack of a extensions made her feel more exposed, naked before the people. On HRT, her hair felt finer. Everything had been dyed blonde, and the effect looked very sensual, but the weight felt strange. She thought the fact that the extensions could no longer come out would be reassuring, but somehow wasn't left with anything to hide behind.

"It looks fabulous. You look fabulous. Its all fabulous," Levant said, putting his arm around Rachel.

Lucy approached; she carried a hand-held radio and was coordinating the staff for the night like an irate movie director. She stared at a pad checking off items. As she did a man sauntered up to the door.

"Jack Dorsey, welcome to the Asylum," Levant said as a rather unsurprising man walked in and recognized Levant.

"Love the pad, man," Jack said, looking around.

"Thanks," said Rachel, rather shyly. Levant was doing one of his signature firm handshakes. "Jack, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is Jack."

"Pleasure to meet you Jack," Rachel said, smiling and holding out her ring-wreathed hand.

Levant took Jack away for a moment to introduce him to Volk, who was standing in the corner with a rather tall blonde girlfriend. After they left, Rachel gently nudged Lucy.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Err, Jack Dorsey," Lucy said, looking into Rachel's eyes. "How many followers on Twitter do you have?"

"About 108,000," Rachel said, proud that she had crossed over the 100,000 mark just a few days ago.

"He is Twitter. Well before Elon Musk, he made it. Net worth about five billion, still three or four behind Mr. Levant. Well before Musk bought him out."

Rachel looked down at Lucy slightly. "Wow."

Rachel was wearing a gold glittering top with a very daring cleavage. The cups were so round they almost formed the shape of a heart. Rachel's areola had grown, and the cleavage was low enough just to show a hint of it. She had been uncertain about it, but after modelling three possibilities on Instagram, the votes were definitely coming in for the more daring looking dress. The night air smelt of pine mixed with Rachel's Bond No. 9 Scent of Peace perfume. She had taken ages getting dressed. She had thought that when she no longer needed the silicone pads it would get quicker. Now it had come, she was more fussy about her hair and noticed details she wanted right.

Levant returned he was wearing the William Westmancott suit Rachel had bought for him well. He had the physique to pull it off, and the Asylum had a small boxing ring, which Levant had been using with Jerry and Peter. Rachel had been impressed when Jerry had come in with a bruise to his left cheek. Peter had told her that Levant had already broken one of the pieces of equipment with a strong punch.

"Douglas, I'm nervous. I've never worn an evening dress this revealing before, and you're introducing me to the great and the good of San Francisco," Rachel said.

Knowledge of their relationship was growing. Even the Herald's Sam Spade had written about how Rachel, "The young, shy, winsome English enigma made the envy of the straight women of America by being seen with Levant." It would have been wonderful, but then the article had devolved into an extended hate tsunami against the corporate excesses of Levant.

Levant came back and ran his eye over the waiters and waitresses, seeing the order he wanted. "You know, you look fabulous. And you wore an evening dress when I took you to the opera."

"Yeah, but I could hide in a box there," Rachel insisted, then switched to the couple approaching them. "Good afternoon, Ambassador."

It turned out, Levant was a big donor to the Opera. He even had a box named after him. Rachel had spent huge amounts of the opera on the edge of tears. Rachel put it down to a mixture of worry about being seen in public, powerful music, and a boost in her HRT and antiandrogen dosage from Doctor Grant.

Levant waited until after Katy Perry and Anne Wojcikcki had come in and there was a lull in arrivals.

"You look wonderful. If you want, I could get Doctor Cooper to get you something to calm you down."

"I'm on too many drugs already. I can hardly think straight sometimes. Like, did I tell you I was talking to my mother, and they found something else wrong with Grand-pa?"

"Yeah, you did, Cinnamon," Levant said. "I said don't worry, we will fix it."

"Well, Mom said it's going to take a month up to the ten-month-plus-one-month deadline," Rachel said.

"I'm not complaining," Levant said, looking over to the group of guests.

"Well, I was hoping to get a month off for good behaviour," Rachel said. "I'm going to miss Thanksgiving. It's a time for families."

The sky started to shift from red to the dark velvet violet of night. Rachel's bare arms began to get cooler.

"We will have our own Thanksgiving. Anyway, here come the guests."

"I look alright, don't I?" Rachel said. "My lips don't look too over-pouty, do they? I know the lip fillers will die down, but they don't look over the top now, do they?"

"The house is perfect. You look perfect. The night is perfect. Everything is just right," Levant said.

"Thanks," said Rachel as she picked up another glass of champagne from Mimi, who had been pressed into being a waitress for the evening. Mimi was back and recovered from her operation and seemed very happy with herself.

"By the way, what vintage is it?" Rachel said after taking a sip.

"The 1979," Levant said, looking at some of the people approaching. Another helicopter was dropping down to the pad. Rachel pulled a face after drinking it.

"Sure? Funny, it didn't taste like a '79. More like an '85 La Blanc, has it been chilled right?" Rachel said, wondering when she had managed to consume so much vintage champagne that she could tell the difference. Rachel looked down, "Your sure the dress is okay. It's not showing too much?"

"The dress is fabulous, and you're wearing the diamond earrings I gave you," Levant said.

"Thanks," said Rachel. "Not that I'm nervous or anything."

"Oh, okay, here comes Travis Kalanick," Levant said. Rachel looked at the man getting out of the car and handing the keys to the parking valet.

"Who's he?" Rachel asked.

"Former CEO of Uber," Lucy said.

"I'm surprised he drove here by himself," Rachel said. "I thought he would wait until someone else wanted to come here and drive them."

As Travis arrived, he kissed Rachel on the cheek. Levant introduced Rachel, and they both started talking to Jack Dorsey.

**********

Rachel was introduced to a number of dignitaries, wealthy investors, and people she recognized. Someone introduced himself only as Daniel, who turned out to be the CEO of Spotify. Drake and Ariana Grande had just flown in, arriving with Bruno Mars, and were followed by Mark Zuckerberg and a small posse of tech junkies. Benjamin Sterling then followed with his new sleek girlfriend on his arm. Sheryl Sandberg then turned up, soon followed by Sundar Pichai and Brian Chesky. Levant got very chatty when Tishman Speyer and John Sobrato arrived and complemented the building.

After some time, Rachel found herself alone with Lucy, entrusted with the task of welcoming the late arriving guests. The air was filled with the lively hum of conversation both indoors and outdoors. A vibrant jazz band struck up yet another tune. Attendees meandered towards the poolside seating or ventured into elegant tents where skilled bartenders concocted exotic cocktails.

"Is Jeff Bezos coming?" Rachel asked Lucy.

Lucy looked at her pad "Jeff Bezos declined the invite because Elon Musk might turn up, and Musk declined for the same reason."

"Just like Musk to decline because he himself might actually turn up to the party." Rachel joked. Lucy looked sideways at Rachel and returned to her radio.

The gathering was in full swing now, and only stragglers lingered on. Rachel's lips exploded into a crimson smile as she realized who was approaching her now. Slightly in the lead was Samantha, her hair was down, and she wore a small thin jacket leaving a lot of space over her chest. Samantha's jacket was blue, and Rachel's was yellow to harmonize with her bodice. Samantha was a flatter, conservative, glittering fairy.

"Rachel," Samantha said, "you look incredible. I just love the hair. I hope you don't mind I brought a plus one."

It was fairly easy to ask Samantha to invite Hunter as her plus one during a fitting. Rachel had carefully organized all this. It looked to be the only time she could talk to Hunter without looking like she was spying. Samantha had been quite receptive to contacting Hunter to bring him along.

"Plus one? Not at all," Rachel said, holding her hand out. "That's why we wrote it on the card. I'm..."

"Rachel Price, everyone knows you," Hunter said, taking Rachel's hand. "My name is Nathan Hunter. We have met before."

"Of course, we have. How could anyone forget a jawline that square set? Nice to see you again," Rachel said. "Well, it looks like you're the last to arrive. Samantha. Charlie is over near the fireplace next to Peter. She needs rescuing from Abercrombie. Kitty has wandered off with Ariana Grande, see Gal Gadot over there? She went that way. By the way, it turns out that Logan isn't flying in now. New audition for a Netflix show. Mr Hunter, why don't we get you a drink, I'm sure I can find one, and then I can give you the grand tour of the Asylum?"

*****

The climbed a polished staircase, its handrails embellished with intricate wrought iron designs, gracefully ascended to the upper levels, inviting exploration and discovery. The plush carpeting underfoot ensured every step was met with a cushioned embrace.

"So, why do you call it 'the Asylum'?" Hunter said later as they walked along another balcony overlooking the large living room. He was glad Rachel was his guide; on his own, he would get lost in a place this big. The room was buzzing with chat and the chink of glasses. Floral arrangements, carefully curated to captivate the senses, adorned the Asylum, their vibrant colors and delicate fragrances infusing the air with a touch of nature's splendour. Exquisite vases overflowed with cascading blooms, adding a burst of life and vitality to the setting. The perfume they emitted was spectacular to Rachel's nose.

Rachel then noticed a familiar face from her past. Denver's school friend Jimmy was cleaned up, dressed in a waiter's uniform carrying a silver tray of drinks. She swerved to avoid him and went in a diffrent direction.

"I'm glad you asked. And that's nothing to do with I've been dying for someone to ask me that question all day. You see, this place is a little insane. It's totally mad, but also, I like the word 'asylum,' as in a refuge, a place of sanctuary." Rachel said, drink in hand, as they continued down the busy main hall into the central atrium. Rachel nodded and said hi to some of the people she knew as they went.

They passed above the large painting of Levant. Guests were presented with a glass of sparkling champagne or a signature cocktail, tantalizing the taste buds and signalling the start of a night filled with culinary delights. They continued to walk past a large photo of a woman.

"That's a Cinder Sherman, isn't it?" Hunter said.

Rachel looked over and smiled, "Well spotted. Yeah, it's my favorite painting. I met this really cute guy in a gallery once. Fantastic smile, the sort you could die for, you know. He kind of opened my eyes to it. Let me clock it for the first time. We never met again, but I always wanted to thank him for it." Rachel said, passing Jack Dorsey talking to Sundar Pichai.

They sauntered into the main dining hall. More exotic food was laid on grand tables to the side. The tables were surrounded by a tightly packed bodyguard of people who had to be worked around.

"Hey Annika," Rachel said to a woman in a green dress. Annika smiled back. "Annika, this is Nathan Hunter, part-time art expert. Annika and I do yoga classes together."

"Spin," Annika corrected, good-naturedly.

"God, that explains what I've been doing wrong all this time," Rachel said. They both laughed together. "Just behind Annika is Julie Draper. Hi."

Julie seemed to be in deep conversation with a man and glanced up, waving for a second.

"Behind her is Fern. Also, spin or yoga... maybe... With her is Kate from Barbican Modeling. Hi, Kate."

"Hi, Rachel," a voice came from behind some men. "Lovely party, the house is fab, you know?"

With a friendly wave, they continued.

"This place is like a labyrinth," Hunter said, looking around as he grabbed another drink from a passing waiter.

He was sucked in behind Rachel's wake. If she strutted with her fashion-trained catwalk to highlight her smooth rear, she wasn't aware of it.

They passed another view of the ground floor where the bustling living room opened up. Rachel glanced down to see Samantha chatting with Iris Apfel, and Charlie talking to Peter, the bodyguard.

"Turns out that ease of navigation isn't high on most fashionable architects' list of priorities, who knew, huh?" Rachel said as they crossed another large hallway into what Rachel called the ballroom. It was a huge double-height space with a view north through massive vertical windows. The wall was massive and large enough to hold a huge painting.

"Is that a Jackson Pollock?" Hunter asked, stunned.

Rachel looked over her shoulder, giving a big toothbrush ad smile. "You know your art, Mr. Hunter."

"Nathan."

"When I first saw this," Rachel began. "I was standing next to Samantha when they hung it. I said, 'Woman artist on her period, I get it.' I regretted it. Douglas hired some kind of big-time art expert to work with the interior designer on it. He was overseeing the installation, I got an epic bit of mansplaining from him. That said, I learnt a lot from him, including some very nice long words. He was cute but not as cute as the stranger in the gallery, you know. You don't know how difficult it is to hang something like that. We had to adjust the window to make sure sunlight didn't hit it at odd times of the day. They have computers and software for it, can you imagine?"

"If it's so difficult, why do you do it then?" Hunter said passing into another room.

"Most of this work is investment pieces, which have been sitting in Levant's family vault and have been brought out for the first time in years," Rachel said, stopping suddenly and turning around. She ended up in one of those poses which you see in fashion photographs where one foot is behind the other, leaving the silhouette to leap over the hips, bringing attention firmly to Rachel's shoulders and semi-exposed chest. Samantha's dress did the rest of the work.

"I felt so sorry for these exquisite things to be locked away in a dark hole. I think beautiful things want to be looked at, don't you?"

"Without an iota of doubt." Nathan said looking at Rachel's eyes. They started to climb a grand staircase and edged up to a balcony overlooking the living room again. Rachel said hello to someone called Kathryn, and they both agreed that the house looked lovely.

"Iota of doubt. Sounds like something I would say," Rachel replied. "Do you prefer Picasso or Monet? I can switch routes and pass either." She said as they emerged and slipped into another room. "And don't say 'show me the Monet.' Everyone says that, even me. I'm thinking of having a swear box for it. "

Rachel used a servant's corridor as a shortcut. They emerged into another part of the building. Hunter was glad he was with her. If he lost sight of her in this building, he might never find her again.

"Your Wikipedia entry says you're a poet," Hunter added as they entered the guest wing.

"I have a Wikipedia entry? That's unreal," Rachel said, opening the door to one of the guest rooms. "This is one of the new guest rooms. Come in, have a look. Sorry about the smell of paint."

This far from the main living room, the noise had died down, and the live band had taken a break.

"You designed this yourself?" Hunter said, walking in.

"If it's good, it's my idea, yes. If it's bad, the interior design stylists made me do it. This " she said pointing at aa brightly colored painting "is more contemporary it's a Grayson Perry."

As soon as the door shut, everything changed.

"Are we safe?" Hunter said. He turned to Rachel. "Are you okay? Has Levant done anything to you?"

"Well, unless looking at a zillion color swatches is a crime against humanity, no," Rachel said moving close "But if it isn't yet, it's going to be up there with genocide one day."

Hunter was going to say one thing and then stopped himself. "You do look fabulous."

"Thanks. I would say you look good in a tux, but I've seen you before. Still true though," Rachel said. "Maybe one day I can see you out of the tux. Hang on, did I say that out loud? Can you get someone to fix my inner monologue it seems to be on the blink?"

"Okay, we don't have much time. Have you heard anything about Project Zeitgeist?" Hunter asked.

Rachel moved across the room. "Volk is here tonight with some of his startup buddies. They will be hanging out with the Google types, so you can hang around with them. Speaking of which, something weird happened which has been bothering me. We were in Paris together for nearly a month, and during that time, there was an election. This guy forms a party from nothing and is really behind in the polls. The week before the election, there was this massive social media hype about this far-right third candidate. He comes from nowhere and wins."