She stood in the middle of the living room. She was mistress of all she surveyed.
The canapés were ready - their square shapes filled with a tapenade that would melt most people's stomachs. People would relish them - their tongues bursting with flavour.
The 10 year old Scotch stood silently - for its rightful owners to claim its decadent tastes - the rich smell of the peat beckoned even the most jaded connoisseurs.
Her little black dress shimmered with a thousand sequins. Her ears sparkled with flawless uncut rubies. The colour of the Scotch matched the topaz ring on her third finger. He had given it to her as a sign of his undying love for her and the Scotch.
She smiled with satisfaction. It would be a good party.