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Donald’s Midas touch may be tarnished, but the banks are still throwing money at him, while Ivana is busy brokering a future of her own. I’m going home,” one Palm Beach resident whispered to his date.“Oh, stay,” she said.
Marie Brenner reports on how the Trumps are still going for it all.“We have an old custom here at Mar-a-Lago,” Donald Trump was saying one night at dinner in his 118-room winter palace in Palm Beach. “It will be so amusing.”It was spring, four years ago.
Perhaps he was spoiling for something to excite him, like a fight.
Maybe all the public posturing was beginning to get boring, too.
To her credit, Ivana still served the dinners her husband preferred, so on that warm night the guests ate beef with potatoes. Post’s faux-Tiepolo ceiling remained in the dining room, but an immense silver bowl now rested in the center of the table, filled with plastic fruit.
As always, it was business with the Trumps, for that was their common purpose, the bond between them.
Trump was seen on the news shows offering his services to negotiate with the Russians.
There was talk that he might make a run for president.
They had become less like man and wife and more like two ambassadors from different countries, each with a separate agenda.
Ivana had had so much publicity that she now offered interviewers a press kit of flattering clips.
Anything seemed possible, the Trumps had grown to such stature in the golden city of New York.
To his credit, Trump had no interest in mastering the Palm Beach style of navy blazers and linen trousers.
Often he wore a business suit to his table; his only concession to local custom was to wear a pink tie or pale shoes.