WHO: Wren and Alice WHAT: Interviews WHERE: Empress Court at Caesar’s Palace WHEN: Todayish? WARNINGS: None!
Wren had known Brian for the better part of a year. He was friendly, boisterous, his celebrity status meant he attended plenty of Las Vegas parties, and he liked to have someone memorable on his arm. He’d never been a client, and she’d never slept with him, but they helped each other out when social push came to shove. Her reputation made him seem more titillating, and his status made her more visible. It worked nicely for both of them, and she’d come to trust the other man. And so it was no surprise that when, mutually, Brian’s sister needed a job and Wren needed an assistant, they would help each other out once more.
The outdoor terrace at the Empress Court was fairly quiet at that time of the day, and even the crowd around the Caesar’s Palace casino was at a lull. It was after lunch, but before the dinner rush, and Wren had chosen this time to meet with Brian’s sister intentionally. She wanted to get a good feel for the woman, to see if she could trust her. It was something that was missing in her life these days, someone she could trust. Her business was booming, and her appointment book was overflowing, and she needed someone to handle pricing and background checks, her investments and her secrets. More than that, she needed someone on her side. Life had become complicated recently, and it wasn’t only Luke’s arrival in Las Vegas that had her looking over her shoulder.
The job Wren was offering was a good one. The pay was exceptional (she was willing to pay quite a lot to hide her secrets from the world), and it came with a luxurious room in the suite Wren called home. There was more than enough room for another person in the luxurious accommodations, even with MK in residence, and everyone from the doorman to the concierge needed attention that wasn’t being given to them. It would be an understatement to say Wren hoped this meeting went well; she was counting on it.
Alice was also counting on it. It had been a long time since she had interviewed, her last position held for a good handful of years. Coupled with the who the interview was with, it was a small wonder her heels weren’t wobbling with all the nervousness that was circling her stomach. Though she, in truth, needed any job, she was really, really, really hoping to get this one. Work at her old firm had been fulfilling enough but something new was in order. Some terribly interesting. And what could possibly be more interesting than working for a professional dominatrix?
It was a good thing Alice was obsessed with punctuality. Arriving early, just in case, had proved a boon when she got herself mildly turned around in the casino. Though the signs were clear for where the Empress Court restaurant was, it still took her a little bit to navigate the sea of smoking gamblers and wide eyed tourists. When she finally reached the restaurant she took a moment to check that absolutely nothing could be out of place. When she was shown to the reserved table no one would’ve guessed she had just power walked a half a mile in high heels. No hair out of place, no wrinkle on her blouse or pencil skirt, and she switched her purse to her other arm to offer her hand with a firm introductory shake.
“Wren Maheu? Hi, I’m Alice. Alice Harper.” She flashed the other woman a smile and though it was warm and sincere, it was very reminiscent of someone else, but she offered the confirmation regardless. “Brian’s sister.”
Wren looked Alice over for a second before taking her hand between cool fingers and shaking it. The woman was beautiful, Wren mused, unsurprised. Brian had always been handsome, and good looks obviously ran in the family. Wren wasn’t the kind of woman who felt insignificant next to someone who was more striking than she was, however, and the smile that eventually reached her ample lips was genuine and secure. “Thank you for meeting with me, Alice,” she said, motioning with her hand to an empty seat beside her.
The waitress joined them a second later, offering drinks and something off the light menu, and Wren waited until they were alone again to speak. “I have to admit, I’m not very good at trusting people,” she said with candor. If she was going to work with this woman, then they needed to get off on the right foot. “But I like your brother, and it occurs to me that I need to trust someone,” she explained, wondering how much Alice knew about her line of work, about the hotel, about anything strange in Las Vegas. “I work out of the hotel. My clients are elite, famous, politicians and actors looking for discretion.” She smiled a little wider, a smile that was much more genuine. “And I’m really, really terrible at taking care of myself.” She ran a finger around the rim of the water glass that was beside her elbow. “I figured I would give you all the bad things straight out of the gate.”
Alice would’ve laughed if she had known Wren was sizing her up in that manner. The woman was the dominatrix. Even on her best day, and she could admit that this was a pretty good day, she couldn’t hold a candle to Wren. But this was still an interview, not a casual ego boosting dinner with friends, and her smile was still firmly in place as she steeled herself for what she assumed would be some hard hitting questions. When she got a confession there was just the faintest softening in her face, surprise flashing in her eyes, and the grin only got wider.
“I eat everything that’s bad for me and always hog blankets? I think that’s the worst I can think of now. Oh and I watch terrible reality television. If the words “Housewives” or “Shore” is in the title, I’m there.” She laughed softly and took a sip of her drink, nails tapping gently on the glass. “But your ‘bad things’,” fingers quoting, laughing as cold residue slid down her palms, “aren’t so bad. Or bad at all. Sure this place is a dump.” She cast a mock serious look at their gorgeous surroundings.
“But you make do and I would be more than happy to help in any way possible. What exactly would you need? Brian mentioned you needed some help with business.” There was a quick pause, barely anything as she chose that last word carefully. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with the work but more if it was something to be discussed out there on the Terrace.
It was the confession about the blankets that made Wren warm up considerably. She had a cultivated guise, a persona, all pale blonde and ice, but it was little more than an act, and she let it slip a little as she laughed softly at Alice’s comment about watching bad television. The girl she had been would have had no idea what television shows the other woman was referring to, but she’d come a long way since then, even if it was all smoke and mirrors. “I’m terrible about eating,” she admitted. “Good wine, champagne, expensive cheese, the occasional chocolate, but I don’t like real food these days.” It was a spoiled way to exist, but Wren wasn’t poor anymore, and she liked the hedonistic little things she’d always wanted in her youth. She looked around the courtyard, the hotel, and she imagined how it might look for someone who hadn’t blackmailed themselves there at the end of a whip. “I’ll confess something. I’d much rather have white picket fence.”
Wren turned toward the other woman when business was mentioned, and the smile was replaced by a look of competent practicality. She’d been the type to dance in puddles once upon a time, but not anymore, and it showed in the way her features changed as she came to attention. “Brian’s right. I have a very lucrative business, but I contract through the hotel, and I need someone to handle my appointments, the compensation to the hotel, basic checks on new clients with a series of investigators I use throughout Las Vegas. There are delicate matters, too, such as confirmations that won’t raise red flags and the purchase of equipment and rental space. Like anyone in my field, I have a lot of secrets that are revealed in the course of an appointment, and I need someone to ensure security is adequate.” She smiled. “I’ve never been very good at organization. I’m a terrible planner.” Her voice went a little quieter, a little more careful. “I need discretion.” She smiled, and there were secrets in that smile, broken things and shards of fragile glass. A piece of paper was pulled from a Coach clutch, a very sizable salary written on it in an elegant hand; she slid it across the table.
Alice made a small horrified face at the occasional chocolate, for if there was anything that should be only indulged occasionally, it wouldn’t be sweets. But the topic was changing, they were going back to business, and she listened quietly, nodding occasionally, to all that Wren wanted. Though she didn’t have much assistant work under her belt, organization was something she had down. Appointments, rentals, background checks, everything sounded like she would be capable of handling them. Secrets were no problem for her, used to dealing with airtight nondisclosure agreements and being the tried and true confidant of her friend circle.
“Discretion and planning, I can definitely do that.” Her smile was just a touch smug and didn’t waver when the offer was slid across the table. Truth be told it got a little brighter, turned into a smile because who ever had offers slid across the table like that? It faltered completely when she saw the amount, but in the best of ways. That she wasn’t expecting that number. “I also can start living on a steady diet of fancy cheeses and chocolates at this rate.”
Wren smiled, despite herself. She didn't let herself genuinely like people these days, too accustomed to being burned to have the easy trust of her teenage years, but she liked this woman's direct expressions. She thought she could see the ideas as they crossed her pretty face, and Wren thought people like that were the most trustworthy. Wren wasn't innocent, though, and she knew this was no sweet or quiet office worker sitting beside her; she liked that too. Wren knew the world held its fair share of dark things, and anyone who worked for her would likely come into contact with them eventually. Reminded of that, she fixed Alice with a more serious look. "I feel like I should warn you that trouble tends to follow me like a very strong magnet." She paused. "Have you heard of Passages Hotel?" She hadn't mentioned the place to Brian yet, and maybe Brian hadn't mentioned it to Alice, but there was no doubt that Selina's antics through the door would be something that needed to be managed, as much as Wren hoped that wouldn't be the case.
“Passages… Passages…” The name did sound familiar and Alice let a soft frown furrow her brown as she tried to place it. You couldn’t throw a rock in Vegas without hitting a hotel but that couldn’t have been it. Then, almost immediately, she remembered seeing it, not on some sign or in some visitors’ mag. No, she turned in her seat, digging through her black purpose which was deceptively large enough to carry most of her important belongings with her at all times. A second later she turned back to wren, a slim and slightly wrinkled large manila envelope in her hands, obviously just days old. Passages Hotel was listed as the original sender in the left hand corner. “I got something sent to my motel, of all places. Didn’t make much sense but I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet.” As she slipped her hand inside to make sure the contents were still there, tablet and key, she looked up at the other women. “You were saying something about trouble?” Suddenly the word, the hint of danger, the promise of the unknown, made a current run down her spine. Not in fear, but in anticipation.
Wren glanced at the manila envelope, but there wasn’t any real trepidation in her pale gaze. Maybe it was the fact that she shared very little with Selina (and Selina with her), but the fact that this woman shared this particular curiosity only made Wren more certain about her choice, rather than more wary. Oh, yes, choice. Because the choice had been made. The job was Alice’s, if Alice wanted it, and Wren only hoped the remainder of the conversation didn’t send the other woman running from the premises. She had a hunch, though, that the advent of this would have precisely the opposite effect. “I was,” she replied to the question about trouble, and she set her own sleek, not-yet-available cellphone on the table between them. Even at quick glance, it was fairly evident that the technology was a little too good, a little too advanced, but it was the screen waking up with the swipe of Wren’s fingertips that confirmed it. A perfect three-dimensional map of an indeterminate city took up the display, GPS dots blinking as they moved around the city pictured. “I’m not sure who they all correspond to,” she admitted, before swiping the screen to the journal network, where letters blinked and handwriting appeared at random. “My version of that,” she said, motioning to the table. Her key, which she pulled out a second later, was set beside it. “My key.” She held it out. “Here. Take a copy for safekeeping. If you lose yours or give it away, it’ll just come back in the morning. It’s probably wise for someone to have a backup of mine.” The just in case went unsaid.
Alice’s hand closed around the key, fingers curling around as she studied it, her own sitting in her other palm. Hers wasn’t like Wren’s, neither was her tablet. The other woman’s warning, and the fact that both sets were different and came from the same place - and she bet Wren received hers in a similar out of the blue manner - only made her more curious. “That place, Passages. What is it? Where do these keys go?” The obvious answer was to hotel rooms but that didn’t feel right. But even as she waited for the answer, she took the Wren’s key and slipped it into her envelope and put that back in her purse. First order of business was keeping the key. That she could do.
"You're going to think I've been drinking," Wren explained, tucking the phone away and sliding her hand back to the edge of the table. She wasn't worried about the key, because she'd already tried to get rid of it on multiple occasions. It would come back, just as it always had. "The doors open to other places, fictional places." she left it there, not mentioning Gotham by name. Alice would likely think it impossible, and Wren knew Alice would likely need to see it herself to believe it. She'd be there once Alice had been through her own door, and they could talk about it then. It did, however, make her wonder about Brian. There was no proof that things like this ran in families, but the people with doors certainly seemed prone to finding one another. Had Selina been willing to share her knowledge just then, she would have realized that Brian was Lois. But Selina, as always, was less than obliging.
“Fic—Well. Okay.” It was clear that Alice didn’t know what to think of that. Wren didn’t look crazy or drunk but there they were actually talking fictional places. How was she supposed to take this seriously? “I’ll have to go check it out.” She would have even without Wren’s explanation. A key arriving out of nowhere begged for investigating. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was expecting any actual fictional worlds when she went. “Anything else I should know about? When would I start?” The hesitance and confusion from seconds before now dissipated and the prospect of working made excitement creep back into her voice. Getting settled into her new job was first, exploring strange hotels would have to come later.
Wren smiled at the very calm reaction, and it reassured her even more about the woman at her side. She took the question about starting as confirmation that Alice was taking the job, and pulled another key from her clutch and handed it out. “It opens the courtyard, where the villa suites are, and the front entrance to the suite.” A second key joined the first in her hand a moment later. “This one opens your door via the courtyard, so you can have some privacy going and coming.” Another smile, and this time she waved for the waitress to bring the bill. “You can move in as soon as you like, but this weekend is soon enough to start working, if that suits?” She slid off her chair, even as her phone chirped, an indication of her next appointment being ready. “The concierge will be glad he doesn’t have to escort people anymore,” she added. “Oh, my driver’s name is Silver. His number’s in the study, along with everything else you should need.” And, with that, she handed over the reins to, hopefully, someone much better equipped than her. “Send your brother a thank you bouquet for me?” she added with a smile that warmed at the edges.
Another surprising key, and then another, but at least this time Alice’s surprise wasn’t as obvious. She hadn’t expected to be living with Wren though she supposed it was the most logical setup. Plus it beat sticking it out at the Motel 6. “It suits just fine.” More than fine, and she was sure the relieved smile she tossed Wren’s way said as much. She filed away the name of the driver, an easy enough name so she didn’t to write it down, and laughed softly. “I’ll be sure to pass your thanks on to Brian.” She’d be calling him as soon as she left. Hopefully he was ready for an ear piercing screech of a victory.