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checked her makeup in the mirror.
You could use a touch-up old girl
, she said to herself. A lovely powder room was behind her in the foyer but she didn’tgo in. It would be used by her guests during her stay. Taking a right off the foyer brought her to the bedroom with its cherry bed and separate sitting area. The wall of windows faced out onto Pennsylvania Avenue, the National Mall, and the Washington Monument. The bedroom had an elegantly appointed bath and dressing room and she knew the staff would have her things expertly arranged shortly. Crossing back though the foyer she entered the first parlor. This was the room she would use the most. It had ample seating, all in reproductions of furnishings found in the White House in shades of red and gold, and a flat screen television centered on a wall of built-in cabinetry. There was also a desk conveniently placed near the windows with the same view as the bedroom. Further into the suite was the second parlor, this one slightly smaller and more formal. She would host her highest profile guests here for tea as it was nearest to the dining room. A second marble-floored area led to the exquisite oval dining room, which faced 14 th street at an angle that allowed for a view all the way to the Capitol. The room seated 8–10 for dinner in total elegance. Beyond the dining room was a butler’s pantry with a separate entrance and a second bedroom that could be included if needed. All in all, it was more than 3,000 square feet of supreme luxury and the staff’s impeccable service made it even more special because anything Olivia or her guests could possibly need was only a phone call away.
    The bellman and two maids arrived to unpack her things. They were familiar to her as they normally worked exclusively for Mrs. Fordham when she was in residence. She asked them about their families and told them how happy she was to see them before taking some papers from her bag and sitting down at the desk in the first parlor.
    She had several invitations that were awaiting responses. In her youth, Olivia had loved to attend parties. Now it was more of a chore with her beloved Robert gone. He had kept herentertained by whispering in her ear all the juicy gossip surrounding the biggest names in business and government as they endured the long evenings. He had told her who had skeletons in the closet, who was sleeping with whom, and who was just plain in the closet altogether. He had a gift for finding the humor in every situation and she missed having him with her. But the parties were important to her work. All were benefits for causes she supported. Only rarely did she attend a party that didn’t have a cause attached to it. While she was in town for the week she would attend four galas where she would be presenting checks totaling nearly thirty million dollars. But that wasn’t the main reason she had come. Beginning first thing in the morning she would host representatives of the Smithsonian Institute and diplomats from around the world here in her suite to put the final touches on the ceremony planned for the end of the week. At the event, an announcement would be made that the Robert L. Fordham Institute would be making a donation of $500 million to open a new museum under the auspices of the Smithsonian. The Fordham Museum of Philanthropy would be a combination exhibition and working center for charitable giving. It would showcase not only the work of large-scale philanthropists like the Fordhams, the Astors and the Gateses, but also the impact of grassroots fundraising and charity by everyone from children to church groups to corporations. Olivia dreamed it would stand as a beacon to the importance of voluntary giving with a global reach.
    She finished her RSVPs and handed them off to a hotel courier to be hand delivered. The staff had finished unpacking her belongings and one of her regular maids had left a silk dressing gown on the bed for her. She knew Mrs. Fordham liked to relax