You know what the problem with people today is? Total lack of foresight. Everyone’s so focused on what’s right in front of their noses, they’re not seeing the big picture. That’s what separates the real winners from the losers. Now, it’s time to talk about Rolls-Royce.
I got the news over breakfast, which meant that I was in an extra black mood. I’d spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning, unable to calm the burning in my nasal passages and sweating through the silk sheets. I knew I looked like hell, but I was hoping that the tall crystal flute of aged champagne perched in my fingers would soothe things over somewhat.
A servant entered the breakfast room, his face pale from nervousness. “M-Madam? There’s been some... correspondence... from Rolls-Royce.”
I picked my head up from the cool marble tabletop, where I’d been resting my forehead. My nose was running madly and I gave a wild sniff. “I hope it’s good news. Otherwise your pinkies are on the line.”
He held out a creamy folder, hands shaking slightly. “Stop shaking,” I snapped. “Your fear is tacky.”
I pulled the press release from the folder and tossed the latter aside. It took my eyes a second to focus on the words printed there. “‘Silver Ghost Collection,’” I murmured to myself:
Cassiopeia Silver, a complex Bespoke silver paint that incorporates both warm and cool tones, bathes the exterior of Ghost in a hue that echoes the silver paint of the original motor car. A Bespoke hand-painted coachline, applied by Rolls-Royce’s master coachline painter and taking eight hours to apply, is imbued with fine particles of 100% pure silver, adding to the provenance of this collection.
A solid sterling-silver Spirit of Ecstasy, the muse that has guided motor cars created by the marque since 1911, will hint at the pioneering heritage of this motor car’s forebear.
A black-gold-plated collar enshrouds the base of the Spirit of Ecstasy, itself bearing the unique identity of this collection. An insert is crafted from hammered copper, in tribute to the copper extensively used in the engine bay of the original ‘Silver Ghost’.
The Rolls-Royce Bespoke Collective masterfully weave the rich narrative of the original ‘Silver Ghost’ into just 35 motor cars, creating a contemporary homage to the original motor car.
A blot of dark red liquid landed with a small splash on the page I held. I reached up to feel my nostrils and my fingers came away red. In a flash, a servant was at my elbow, proffering a silk handkerchief.
“Silver!” I shouted, dabbing furiously at my nose. “Silver and not platinum? What are we doing, running a poor house around here? What use does anyone have for silver?”
“It is a tribute to the 1907 Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost, miss,” piped up the servant who’d handed me my handkerchief, examining the release over my shoulder. “They say it’s an homage, right there.” He pointed to the page.
I fixed him with a steely stare, unmoving. Three other servants scurried forward, their heads bent in apology. “Your forgiveness, Madam. He’s new.” They muttered to him in their language and started pulling him out of the room.
They stopped, hardly daring to turn around. “Are you defending silver?” I asked the new servant. “Are you saying that it is a far superior metal to platinum?”
He looked nervously at his colleagues before casting his eyes downward. “No, Madam.”
I gave another almighty sniff. God, my face felt like it was one fire today. “Are you suggesting that a car made from the same material as candlestick holders is acceptable?” I demanded, my voice rising uncontrollably. “A car that I could melt down into a Tiffany & Co. charm bracelet for 13-year-old suburban middle school social climbers and nobody would know the difference?”
I hurled the flute of champagne at his feet, where it shattered magnificently on the marble floor, spraying crystal shards everywhere. All four flinched, but they also instantly scurried toward the closet to fetch a broom and dustpan.
“Silver Ghost my ass!” I roared over the din. “Was nobody thinking clearly when they named the thing? Did nobody consult anyone with a little class? They should have had the foresight to name it the Platinum Ghost instead! Then we’d actually get something of value 100 years later.”
I staggered to my feet, heading straight for my chambers. It was time for bed. The day was already shot.