Summary:Two philanthropic billionaires walk into a park… Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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New York City and its boroughs are full of public spaces. It's one of the things that makes such a small island so packed with people actually livable. Many of the buildings and streets are heavily stratified - each person has their place, has their value. People fit in or stand out. But these public places, these islands of nature in the middle of civilization, are a little more flexible.
It's the reason Danny Rand is out here instead of in her penthouse apartment, or at some high-end gym spa that caters to the rich and famous. That, and being one with things is…well, it's sort of part of the process.
She's found a sheltered spot by the reflecting pool, and in her worn joggers and plain black tank top, most passers-by will likely mistake her for a college student or young professional doing some tai chi.
While Danielle is out for her exercise and run, there's a smaller and private ceremony going on at one of the small pavilions. A group of reporters has gathered - murmuring amongst themselves. The rumors that Bruce Wayne, who had somewhat secluded himself away from society for the last few years was actually going to be out in public had drawn gawkers and press alike.
Outside of the pavilion, a limo pulls up, and a stately older man steps out from the driver's side, going over to open the door at the back. Slipping from the backseat, there's no doubting the form of Bruce Wayne. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, he straightens himself up after leaving the vehicle, he glances over to the driver, and quirks a smile. "Thank you, Alfred." he offers, as he starts towards the small dias that had been set up.
There's a slight limp to his step as he makes his way to the dias and steps up on it. To the side, a small table has been set up with a cover over it, and there's a few signs that point to this being a dedication ceremony for a new flower.
Just when you think you've found a peaceful spot. Isn't that the way of the city? Danny finishes her kata just as the press starts to get excited about the arrival of one Bruce Wayne. She remembers all too well the hullabaloo when she first came back to the city. Press: Obnoxious, but unavoidable.
Leaning over, she slips on a pair of sneakers and shrugs into a hoodie, zipping it up part-way before she meanders toward the little gathering. Hands in her pockets, she's unassuming for the moment, just taking the measure of things.
Of course the event is open to outsiders. There's a small table of refreshments that has been set up. Mainly finger foods and drinks. As he looks over the grouping, he draws in a small breath, before Bruce speaks. "Today, I have been asked to do something for someone that I'm not sure would have wanted the spotlight on her." he starts, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Ever since my mother had graduated college and until the day she passed, she was always a giving spirit. To children, to help those that had grown up in broken homes. And she always told me about how the roses were like a child from one of those homes. If you grasp them too tightly, they will prick you, but if you give them love and attention, they will blossom beautifully."
Reaching over to the cover to lift it, he pulls it back to expose a rose of white with maroon trim around it. "It is my distinct honor today to introduce the Martha Wayne Rose, developed by the Brooklyn Botanical Society. Several bushes of this new rose will be planted at Wayne Manor, and I will make sure to have a donation of the plants to the gardens of the Mount Sinai Kravis Children Hospital, and the OHEL children's homes around the city. I am honored by this, and I am sure that my mother would speak well, if bashfully of this moment, and remind us all to make sure the children are put first. Also, the Wayne Foundation is donating fifty thousand dollars to the OHEL children's homes for upgrades and new playground equipment. So let us all celebrate this new bloom between the children of New York and the life they deserve to live. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Stepping down from the platform, he starts to make his way over to the table, his attention drawn to the attractive blonde in the hoodie for a moment before he picks up a mimosa to take a drink from.
Danny's lips twitch toward a faint smile at the speech, hands coming out of her pockets to clap politely along with the press at the end of it. Always good to see funds going to a good cause. And with minimal fanfare. Not that the Tony Stark circus isn't always a good time, but the universe does trend toward balance.
Snacks, though. Danny is all about the snacks. Despite a few sideways looks from press and more appropriately-dressed visitors, she weaves her way easily over to one of the tables, plucking a melon ball from a plate.
"So hey," she says to Bruce, a bulge in her cheek from the fruit as she strikes up a conversation without hesitation. "Do you have a consulting firm or something that helps you pick out the places for donations? Because I always feel like that's the hard part."
"It's the worst part." Bruce admits, chuckling as he takes in the young woman next to him, tucking his free hand into his pocket. Unlike her sports bra and sweatpants combo with hoodie, the suit was tailor made and probably imported from Great Britian for him. He sips from the drink, amusement cutting at the corners of his mouth, and putting just the slightest crinkle of crow's feet on the corners of his eyes.
"Most of them are charities that my mother and father supported." he says, before he considers her more fully. "Though I have the feeling that is not a hypothetical. I belive I've seen your picture in the press lately.." though he drums his fingers on his flute of mimosa, as if trying to place it. Though he probably has already guessed at who she is.
Finally, he gives up the game, and sets down the glass. And then offers his hand to the woman. "Bruce Wayne."
"Yeeeaaah, and you know, I'm trying to learn from my mistakes when it comes to letting others make the decisions about where my money goes." Danny's smile is rueful, but still light-hearted as she shrugs, taking the offered hand. "Danny Rand. Nice to meet you."
For all she's well-kept enough, her hands are definitely not the hands of someone who spends their spare time getting manicures and going shopping. There's wear there, and any number of old scars to match the strength of her grip. Even as she introduces herself, she twists herself slightly, keeping her back to the press in attendance under the pretense of grabbing another melon ball. Which, you know, she does still want.
"Rand Enterprises. I thought I had read of your recent return to New York. You made quite the splash on the Society Pages." And Bruce considers her. "And I can see why. One of the most eligible bachelorettes in New York." he can feel the grip and shape of her hand. The ridges and rises. The hands of someone that works hard. His own, in comparison, do not feel as worn or rough.
A great pair of gloves work wonders.
"Yes, I remember those days well. And not wuth fondness." Bruce admits with a hint of ruefulness as he gestures to the plates of food. "Help yourself." he offers to her, before he reaches to take back up his glass after releasing her hand. "Fortunately, I had those that were willing to look out for me within Wayne Enterprises, and keep the company from being taken away from a child that was in mourning over his parents." he shrugs his shoulders.
"If you would like assistance on what to find that could be near and dear to you, I would be happy to assist you with it." Yes, there's a hint of the playboy there, but it seems more understated as he takes another drink from his glass. "Don't worry, if the press angles this way, I'll take the hit for you."
"I've been back for a few years, but, you know. It's not life if you're not getting into a little bit of trouble, right?" Danny winks, tilting her head as she pauses. "You know, now that I think about it we sort of just…crossed. You disappeared right around the time I got back into town. And then there was the whole murder trial thing, and you know…"
She chuckles at the press comment, leaning against the table and snagging a mimosa for herself as well. "They're like piranhas, I swear. I mean. I get it's their job, but damn. So, I got lost in the Himalayas for ten years." She looks over, grin flashing. "What's your excuse?"
There's a chuckle from Bruce, and a shake of his head. "I think you got the better excuse on this one, Danny." he admits with a hint of chagrin. Finishing the mimosa, he sets down the flute, turning his attention from the crowd to spend some more time with the blonde. After a moment's thought, he explains. "I was in France, visiting the Circuit de Spa. Wanted to try out a recently rebuilt Maserati Ghibli Spyder that I had bought. Took a curve too hard, steering gave out."
There's a shake of his head at the thought. "Took me down a few pegs. But you know, have to get back on your feet sometime, and give the press what they want. Trust me, I heard it all. From abduction by aliens to secretly married to some starlet." He holds up his ringless left hand. "That didn't happen, obviously."
"Please, like you'd wear the ring," Danny scoffs, arching a brow in mock doubt. "It's all right. You can admit it if you fell hard for…" She pauses, then laughs suddenly. "I can't even make fun of you, I don't know who the hot thing is right now. That sucks though, about the car. And also the accident. And the hurting part. But also the car." She shakes her head sorrowfully. "One destroyed piece of art."
A sip of the mimosa as she considers the dedicated rose. "It's a good way to ease back into things, though. A good memory." Her brows furrow at her own though, head shaking once. "Most of the time I count myself lucky if I haven't tanked the company, you know?"
"Right now, I think I'm standing next to the hot thing." Bruce responds with an easy laugh as he glances aside to her, before turning his attention to the rose in thought. "It's a good way to honor her memory. I was only eight when they passed. And I hear most of what they were like from those that knew them. It does admittedly make me a little jealous that I didn't get that chance." he admits with a rolling shrug of his shoulders in thought.
"Yes. At least the car was well-insured, even if it was a total loss." It was in the papers and on the news. It was a terrible story. And completely fabricated. "But it comes and goes. I could have just let it sit in a garage, but something like that deserves to be driven. Not just displayed."
"So, what's your plans, Ms. Rand?" he asks her curiously. "You haven't tanked the company so far." he taps his fingers on his glass. "If I recall, you have a pretty stable stock base. Maybe a little too conservative for my taste, but if it keeps you above board."
Danny smirks at the compliment, tipping her glass in recognition of it without saying anything more. "Truth," Danny adds to the car talk, taking a sip. "No point in having it if you're not gonna use it."
"It's a good question, though. I'd been staying out of things," she admits as she looks over. "You might not realize this, but the educational system of 'lost in the Himalayas' is not big on business. Or math. Or…a lot of things." That smile flickers again, self-deprecating without holding on to it. "But recently we had a little scare with some less than reputable people worming their way in and trying to use our resources for questionable purposes. And I just about got burned. So I'm thinking maybe I should do some learning in regards to not getting used like that again."
"Sounds like you need a good security and vetting system. Do you have a firm to handle those things for you, or are you trying to handle it in house?" Bruce asks curiously as he turns his attention to the woman and her comments about the business. "So. You have your needs. Buisness, math, business acumen. Do you plan to run the company yourself? Or would you like to be able to have it run autonomously?"
"I have someone that handles Wayne's day to day operations for me. Someone that knew my parents, and someone that I trust well." Bruce admits. "And no, you can't have him." he says with a little chuckle and gives the question some more serious thought. "I can have my people compile a list of candidates that can help you. It'd be up to you to interview them and decide which one would fit your needs and those of your company. What is it that Rand does again?"
Danny waves a hand, shaking her head. "Jeryn handles my stuff. And he's great," she adds. "Same thing. Knew my parents, knows how things should be. But, you know. One person can't do everything. And Jeryn is great, but I kind of feel like I should at least have a clue. Like. Half a clue." She holds up a hand, finger and thumb a quarter inch apart. "A smidge of a clue."
She takes another drink, that rueful smile breaking into a grin as she laughs. It's an honest sound, one unencumbered by the drama in her life. "Research and investment," she answers. "Make stuff. Buy stuff. That's my smidgen so far."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be, Danny. Sometimes, it's better to just sit back and enjoy things. And you know. Stop and smell the roses you're dedicating." Bruce responds with an amused chuff of a laugh as he finishes off another mimosa. "That's the secret to surviving the want to meddle in your company's affairs." he offers with a grin that turns the corner of his mouth upwards.
"And what type of stuff do you buy and make that has your interests?"
"Not a damned clue," Danny confesses cheerfully. "I mean, you're probably right. I'm probably just as well off leaving it to the professionals. But hey, I'm curious. And since it's got my name on it…" She trails off, shrugging. "Besides, I get my fair share of rose-smelling in. Maybe not to the standards of the legendary Bruce Wayne," she grins, looking over with a waggle of her brow.
"But you know, I feel like people would have a different reaction to a story that I was on a yacht with the entire lineup of the New York Yankees than they do to you on a yacht with the Bolshoi ballerinas."
"Do that one time, and you have that forever on you." Bruce smirks. "You can always just invite one peroon." he points out to her with a chuff of amusement. "And you're completely allowed to be curious about what your company does. And well, for rose smelling.. you have a boat, I'm sure you know someone you can invite to enjoy the moment with."
He starts to say more, but his phone chirps at him, and opening his jacket, he takes it out to glance at the screen. "It seems that I have to head to my next appointment. Perhaps you would like to catch up and compare note again sometime?" he suggests to her as he types out a message absently to send back.
Danny tosses back the rest of the mimosa, setting the glass aside and following it up by sneaking a croissant into her pocket with a wink. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again. Small town and all that. I'll take your one person plan under advisement. I feel like the litany of 'the ninjas did it' is probably enough eccentricity for me. No need to drag a perfectly reputable baseball team into it."
She steps away from the table, giving her hood just enough of a tug to hide her features in profile without raising it suspiciously all the way. "Nice meeting you, Bruce," she says, offering out a hand. "Best of luck with…well, you know. Everything."
Pausing, Bruce smiles warmly for the woman, and accepts Danny's hand in his own, giving it a warm squeeze. "Yes. Terribly small town." he admits with a chuckle, before releasing the hand, and amusement touches his features. "If you want to ruin a team's reputation, at least make sure it's the Miami Marlins." comes the response to her comment about the teams, before he turns to head towards his limo and driver, that limp slightly noticable still - though Danny may pick up that it's not exactly the same as it was when he first arrived.
There's a wave of his hand towards the woman as he slips inside the vehicle, pulling the door closed to head to his next appointment.