A flute of champagne

The French maid scurried forward with a flute of champers. Normally, Barbara would make a show of asking when and where it was from. Normally, she wouldn't think of trying to satisfy a thirst with an alcoholic beverage, but if she didn't drink something now, she was going to pass out. She ungracefully grabbed the flute and practically inhaled it.

It was sweeter than she expected. Cloyingly sweet, even. It didn't matter. She let out a satisfied sigh. She turned back to Harold. "Now, what is going on here?" She said again, but with much less venom in her voice.

"Looks like you got an empty glass, can we refill that?" Harold said again, snapping his fingers, and a red-headed woman in fishnet stockings came forward with the bottle. "Top her off, will you, Lolly?" He gently stroked his little doll's throat again.

She dutifully drained her flute again, after Lolly topped her off.

"What is --- ooh the bubbles," she said. She felt flush. She wanted to ask Harold something, she knew that, but she had other things in her mind as well. She wandered off to try to find a restroom.