"Vivienne Sinclair, that's the ticket. Viv to the swell folks in my circle, but for you, it's Ms. Sinclair," she breathed, her voice as smooth as a slow tune on the phonograph, wrapped in intrigue.

Her raven tresses framed a face that could inspire the grandest art deco masterpieces. Her deep, mysterious hazel eyes held whispers of secrets, daring the dapper gents to venture closer. With each graceful move, Vivienne exuded an air of captivating allure, leaving the room spellbound.