"The world could use more men who think like you, Mr. Wayne," Poison Ivy cooed, letting Bruce escort her at his whim as she listened to him giving company more credit than she thought much of them were due.  Though her ears were attuned to his voice, her rich, glittering gaze drifted from face to face, silently distinguishing the high rollers and old money from the others that made up the prestigious crowd.  She believed him though, to an extent.  With Wayne Enterprises heading the event, she was relatively sure Bruce meant what he said; the funds from the evening's peacocking would likely go to good use.  Unless, of course, the dashing Bruce Wayne was no different than the rest of them.  He had a good reputation, but that meant little, men like him could afford to keep their images clean.<br/><br/>"Then perhaps we could finally get something done in this city," she turned her dazzling smile towards him then, hiding Ivy's snark and replacing it with sincerity and girlish charm instead.  Bruce coaxed her into a close embrace, and Ivy did not resist the lead, bringing one long, gloved arm to snake about his neck while other came to rest her palm over the cusp of his shoulder.  "Pamela," she told him, the minimal space between them voiding the need to raise her voice over a soft murmur as she went on to answer, "My job isn't the most glamorous, as being a botanist doesn't exactly put you among the rich and famous...but I contribute when and how I can for causes such as these."<br/><br/>Ivy wasn't here solely as some poor schmuck's arm candy, or to simply try and dry up some of Gotham's wells of wealth.  She had been that particular schmuck's arm candy for a reason, that schmuck had been the winning contractor for Gotham Park's renovation.  The redhead was clever enough have him to spooled around her little finger.  He would be calling the shots for the development, but it would be Poison Ivy in his ear, and she had some glorious ideas.<br/><br/>Smoothing the hand at Burce's shoulder further up so her other arm too draped about his neck, Ivy shifted slightly closer to him, her hips swaying ever so gently as they danced.  "So where is your date this evening, Mr. Wayne?" She asked, moving the topic from herself to what most men enjoyed talking about most.  Themselves.   "Not to be too forward, but one rarely sees Bruce Wayne without a line of women swooning for his time.  How is it I get to be the lucky lady?"  For the first time all night, she insidiously used the intoxicating charms that becoming Poison Ivy had given her.  Leaving Pamela in the shadows, her mood rocking as Bruce Wayne led her in gentle harmony.