Despite all I've done in my time, this was new. I could smell the money from blocks away. I was soon to be surrounded by those that had "made it." No doubt getting to their lofty position by stepping on all sorts on the way up, either that or had the family fortune to never have to make those sacrifices in the first place. I'd of course been to this part of town before, however I'd never tried to pass as one of its residents. It would be easy to underestimate them, growing soft in their ivory towers. My one pair of unscuffed shoes were getting quite the workout as of late, striding into the part of the city that everyone liked to talk about. I kept my hat low over my face, just being seen among the glitz and glamour looking clean could be enough to ruin my reputation of knowing the real city. In my line of work blood and grime washed off with ease, glitter and hope were the stains that never washed away.
My coat would stand out as off to anyone paying attention, out of season light brown clashing with the reds and golds this part of town had to offer. Luckily enough for me, the folks that lined these streets automatically ignored anyone not worth their time. The sidewalks were clean, no butts or broken glass to crunch through here. The ground somehow felt softer despite my quick pace slapping my feet against it. No wonder the wealthy's shoes stayed so nice. The sweet smell in the air was off-putting, perfume pumped out by the storefronts with ostentatious displays. They drew the nose and eye of the moneyed that called this place home. When customers approached, doors were opened for them and they were greeted like friends by someone in an equally opulent uniform. Personal service, a smile and soft speaking voices for those that could buy the world. I found myself missing the indifferent grunt of the scarred man that sold me my cigarettes as I skipped past these scenes to make my way to the Hilton. The guy at the door had a raised eyebrow as he opened it for me, a coat like mine was well out of place. Now I was away from the prying eyes of the outdoors, I slid off my coat revealing the nice tux I owned. It was worth more than my office and all my possessions combined, granted that was a very low bar to clear. This perk was the result of doing a discreet job for one of the top tailors in town. I pre-empted the guy inevitably welching on paying me by rewarding myself a souvenir from his store. To this day I have no idea if he even noticed it was missing. I hope he hasn't, if men like him don't learn I can keep exploiting their arrogance.
I took little satisfaction in the double-take from the concierge when he saw my transition from coat to tux, he's simply trained to spot the rabble and politely kick them to the curb. Can't fault a man for doing his job.
"Good evening sir, can I take your coat?" he said, his accent sounded British. A commendable try, fake nonetheless. I cleared my throat to put on my own fake voice, I had to sound as rich the tux made me look.
"Yes, I know it's a little rough, unfortunately most of my wardrobe resides in Coast City," I said. He held the coat at arm's length in a way you'd think it was riddled with disease.
"That is unfortunate sir, we can have it cleaned during your stay," he said.
"No, keep it close to the front of coat check. I'm only here for the gala," I said, doing my best to remember not to say please or thank you to the help.
"Certainly sir, I shall get your ticket to you shortly. The gala will be starting soon, feel free to make use of the bar in the meantime," he said, politely nodding and scurrying away. I of course wanted to nose around the gala's facilities, knowing the sight lines, hot spots and where the good refreshments were at would make my job a lot easier. Alas, with no invite the bar was all I had. I was once more at the mercy of Miss. Imra Saturn, until she arrived all I could do was wait and try to the look the part. I took a stool at the bar and made sure the one next to me was empty. The men behind the bar were clean cut and attentive. I ordered two drinks, one sweet martini and neat Scotch. I knew the brands respectable enough for a place like this to have without burning a sizeable chunk out of what was left of my five-hundred dollars. Even the mixing and the pouring had an air of theatre to it. Smooth motions and smiles from the barman wordlessly telling me that these drinks were damned good and the most important thing in the world to him. My coat-check ticket was brought to me during this display, I nodded and played my part in this little dance. I placed the drinks in reach of myself and the stool next to mine, neither placed closer to my position. Everyone would expect a dame like Imra to be fashionably late, I wagered that was exactly why she would be punctual. I kept an eye on this grand foyer on the sly. Reception desk at the far end, bar neatly on display to the side and large arches to the various function rooms and services on offer. Tall ceiling, red carpets, bright lights, gleaming surfaces and beautiful people in pricey clothing moseying around. All the cliches I'd expect. Men in black suits were scanning the room near a velvet rope near one of the larger arches, no doubt the gala awaited behind it and it was up to them to make sure it lived up to the hotel's standards.
"Mr. Monarch, I almost didn't recognise you," I hid my surprise as Imra Saturn's sultry voice stroked my ears and she pulled the stool beside me, so much for paying attention. When I turned to her, I was doubly confused as to how the hell she escaped my notice. Her dress was long in a bold red, the off-shoulder straps accentuated her neckline and the pearls that glimmered on it. Her hair was black, the deep part and perfectly full curls made her look like she had climbed straight out of a pin-up poster. Everything about her drew the eye and set the imagination ablaze. It was all the more worrying that apparently despite that, she could move totally unnoticed if she so chose.
"Miss. Saturn, it would be impossible not to recognise you," I said. Her grin curled upward at the drinks waiting there for her, she took the martini without a word. The choice of the weaker drink told me she was allowing me to dictate the night, for now at least.
"Tell me, what's a man like you after in a place a like this?" She said.
"Something strange about a man wanting to enjoy the high life?" I said.
"If that's all you cared about, I'd have never spoken to you at all." She leaned in close to my ear, her tone was husky and whispering. "I know if everything this side of National City had was offered to you, you'd refuse it in a heartbeat." She pulled back casually and a shiver ran down my spine as her lips brushed against my cheek. They were pouted and the lipstick was the same bold red as her dress. It was time to stop dancing around the issue, this job was over if she decided to walk.
"The conversation I want can't be anywhere else," I said, taking my first sip of the scotch. It was overly smooth, lacking the character of the garbage I stashed in my office. She traced the rim of her glass with her finger playfully.
"Ooh, a socialite. My my, you are out of your comfort zone," she said. I leaned forward, pressing my elbows on the bars marble surface.
"In most circumstances, you'd have been dead on. However, if you're by my side, there's nowhere I'd rather be," I said. I hoped the lack of grace in that line would throw her off kilter, have her re-evaluate what I was. I'd be a fool if I assumed she knew every play in the game, how she would react to a transparent probe like that would at least let me know a little more about her. Her satin glove stroked her chin.
"I aim to please," she said. Her guarded response was interesting, like the martini choice she wasn't looking to push me.
"So, should we make a move? It starts soon," I said, looking at the beautiful people in beautiful clothes starting to form a line by that velvet rope.
"And ruin what we have here? Another round," she said, the moment her attention left me a barman was at the ready to take her order. More expense to deal with, though before I could make a move to my wallet, cash was already in her hand. One generous tip later and our second round was in front of us. I guess I was half right about the punctuality, I could only guess she wanted everyone to see she was on time and then chose to come in later at her own accord. This was her world, I gladly deferred to her expertise on the matter.
"Whose attention are you looking to grab tonight?" She said.
"Besides yours?" I said. She chuckled.
"We both know I'm a means to an end."
"When was the last time a man made you wait for something?" I raised my glass to her as I asked. She eyed it and picked up her own drink and clinked lightly.
"Never," she said. I smiled.
"Well, new experiences for the both of us," I said.
The verbal dance continued as rounds three and four of our drinks slid by. My mind was clear despite the boozing, it had to be. Imra was unpredictable and delightful in all the right ways, anything outside of my sharpest would bore her. It was hard to tell how much time had passed by the time she gestured toward the velvet rope. No visible clocks from the bar, less aware patrons kept the cash flowing. There was still a line to the function, others operating under the fashionably late rules of law. She took hold of my arm and we walked in together to the back, all eyes were so busy looking at her that I doubt anyone bothered to check on me. The line was moving quite quickly, I was pretending to be suave and she was a different woman. Gone was the attentive and dangerous Imra, now she was laughing at my wittier comments and smiling at me like I was the world. It was such a masterful performance even I almost got swept up in the moment of it. Anyone who cared to listen would think we were here for pleasure rather than work. I had to stop my eyes widening when we got near the front of the queue. Once through the rope, names of the guests were being announced to the room like it was a damned Jane Austen novel.
"You want your name kept to yourself in these surroundings," Imra said quietly. It was a very correct statement, I also noticed she said nothing about preventing our names being called out. I said nothing, she was still testing me and I had to hold my nerve. We got to the front, two black suited men with their hard expressions stopped us. As one was about to speak Imra cut in.
"We do not wish to be announced," she said. The man stopped himself.
"That's a little irregular ma'am," he said, he was about to look over to his compatriot. Imra spoke up again.
"Don't look at him, look at me. I want to surprise my friends, it's just a little favour. I'll owe you," she said. Her tone of voice and body language made promises that weren't going to be kept. I imagined even our security friend knew that, it was just said in such a way that the promise was enough. The man's face contorted as he looked into the main function hall and back at Imra.
"Okay, in you go," he said, pulling aside the rope. I could only smile to myself, if Imra had an invite to this ball she had gotten us in without even needing it. I told myself she was showing off for me, I was in too good a mood for reality to dash that idea out of my head.
Past the velvet rope was a hell of a sight. The tower of champagne flutes drew the eye to the centre of the hall, more archways were scattered around evenly. Different rooms to explore and dozens of wealthy people casually ignoring servers flying by with a plethora of tiny foods I'd never seen before. Gowns and tuxes littered my eyeline, yet there was no Luthor to be seen just yet. A string quartet filled the void under the idle chatter of the room, of course it was a string quartet. An event like this thought itself far too classy for jazz. I tried to keep scanning the room until I felt a tug at my arm.
"You're after a socialite, that means socialising," Imra's velvet voice hummed under her breath. I looked around at more black suits being suspiciously vigilant of the guests. They were either expecting trouble or looking to start it. My original plan to ditch Imra and slink around while everyone looked in her direction was dashed, I was stuck to her arm for the night. Close proximity to her would make me invisible and if anyone did question us, I imagined it would be similar to the velvet rope display. I started to think a gratis job to Miss. Saturn was good value after all, or maybe that's just how she made it look. Imra pulled me around the oceans of opulence. She sparkled wittily with each person or group we approached, no-one even bothered to ask who I was despite her holding my arm the whole time. No complaints from me, the occasional polite laugh or nod was all I needed to do to look like I was paying attention. The rest of my focus was keeping my head on the swivel. Jimmy's intel was always good, Lena Luthor would be here somewhere. Time was passing at a crawl, I found it hard to decide whether the drone of the quartet or the drone of the conversations I was dragged into was more boring. Just as my glazed ears were developing a headache I spotted her, off in a corner with untouched champagne in her hand was Lena Luthor. This hall was full of fake smiles or drunk ones, she wore neither. Other than the diamond necklace catching the light she seemed to be dressed as plainly as someone of her status could get away with, a simple dark green number. Her hair was up in a French twist in a way that showed off more diamonds hanging from her ears. Rather than wait for a lull in whatever Imra was pretending to be interested in with the fourth generic rich man with trophy wife of the evening, I simply muttered quietly under my breath knowing she'd be listening.
"3 O'clock, in the corner," I said. Imra, conveniently stood on my left laughed at something that was said, patted me on the chest and disguised looking in that direction with an amused look at me. She managed to duck out of the conversation impressively quickly after she spotted who I indicated. Having escaped the dullards Imra turned me with a smile, this one seemed genuine.
"No wonder you wanted me, that's a hell of a mark," she said.
"Not a mark, I just need to talk," I said. Her eyes narrowed slightly, she tried to get a read on me. Her cold eyes quickly flitted back to life and she leaned in close again.
"Well whatever it is you want, the wait was worth it," she said.
"The games can wait, you know what to do," is what I wanted to say. My heart in its infinite wisdom had me caught up in her eyes and I said nothing. Luckily, after a short delay my brain kicked into gear and gestured my free hand.
"Shall we?" I said, not quite as authoritative as I hoped. Close enough.
She turned away and I exhaled, only then did I realise I had held my breath through that interaction, how embarrassing. The immediate danger of Imra was gone, now it would be Lena's turn to face it. We made our way to Lena's quiet little corner. I'd noticed two distinct reactions when women noticed Imra gliding toward them, jealousy or awe. I had to stop my eyebrow from raising when Lena's reaction was entirely different.
"Miss. Luthor, I hate to interrupt but I had to come see you, it really is an honour to meet you," Imra said, she was laying it on thick.
"The honour is mine, you seem familiar, who is it I have pleasure of talking to?" She said, Lena's reaction of grace surprised me. From what I'd read she had little patience for being treated like royalty. I also noticed an Irish twang in her voice, maybe there was some Gotham in her blood.
"I'm Imra Saturn, my associate here would simply love to talk to you," Imra said. Lena turned to face me, her delight dropping as quickly as it had appeared. If I had a larger ego that might have hurt.
"I must admit, I've seen a few articles on you that are interesting," I said. Her face dropped further, Imra subtly turned to me with a look that asked me what the hell I was playing at.
"I assure you none of it's true," Lena said.
"I don't mean the front-page nonsense, that trash is a waste of paper. I mean those articles a little deeper in the rags that seemed to have stopped the last few weeks," I said, Lena's eyes immediately flitted away nervously. The direction was a large man skulking on the other side of the room that I had clocked on the walk over, he was paying too much attention to the corner Lena was stood in. I didn't have to turn to know what was happening, the incredibly vigilant security staff started to make a whole lot of sense. Lena had an unwanted entourage, and I could feel the movement in my periphery. My words or Lena's reaction had them spooked and now I had someone to follow.
"Yes, well I hope to see those articles continue soon," Lena said. It was all the confirmation I needed.
"I hate to love you and leave you, I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere. Miss. Saturn, please feel free to keep the lovely Miss. Luthor company," I said. Imra covered her confusion in a split-second and took Lena's hand. With no further acknowledgement I turned on my heel and slipped through the busy hall. The rest of the security would have been too busy watching Imra's contact to track me out of there, I just had to make sure I kept track of the large man making a hasty exit.