Diana had not been joking when she’d said he was likely more fun at cocktail parties, despite his sarcastic response. She rarely attended them these days, secure enough in her career that she could decline the invitations, but there had been plenty of parties and galas as an art curator. That had been what she considered her “day job”, and her spare time had been spent helping wherever she could. She had not much liked the parties, despite being a friendly and warm person.
She took a sip of her coffee and nearly spit it back out again when Tony told her how many people were here, but she didn’t. Instead, she swallowed, and stared at him for a moment. “But why?” That wasn’t quite enough for an army, perhaps, but it was far too many to be purposeless, and Diana’s confusion grew. She guessed that would be a continuing thing as she adjusted to this place, with what little explanation she’d been given. At least she’d been given one, and she comforted herself with that.
“How long have you been here?” She asked after a moment’s pause, and she considered that the more important question. After all, if Tony had known why, that likely would’ve been the first thing he’d told her.