Her gift was making them feel valued for something other than their bank balances, injecting a little reality into their lives. "There's nothing more attractive to those over privileged morons than a little carefully constructed reality," she'd explained to the rookie policeman they'd sent to guard her hotel room, and he'd nodded eagerly. Personally, he'd cheered her on as the reports came in of massive losses suffered by the most self righteous pricks in the city - they deserved all they got in his opinion. He could tell that she felt the same way about them from her dismissive tone, so he voiced his thoughts. Courtney's eyes lit up as he spoke, excited to have found a like minded spirit, and that spurred him on. "Darling, I couldn't agree more. The corruption in this city breaks my damn heart - it means honest cops like you can't touch the real bad guys. As I see it, that's where I come in."
The rookie was so caught up in her explanation of her work that he never even noticed the room key slipped from his pocket.
Even as he stood later on her words resonated in him, driving him to wonder exactly how he could help. The appearance of an old maid hunched over her cleaning trolley on what was supposed to be a secure floor broke into his reverie, and he told her sharply to leave, surprised at the level of incompetence of his colleagues.
Resuming his post on the door, he was unaware he was guarding an empty room, the only sign that someone had once been in the lingering scent of perfume and a cigarette butt smouldering in an ashtray. By the time he realised his mistake, Courtney would be on a plane, glass of champagne in hand and maid's costume safely stored in a locker at JFK.
Another work of art complete.
seriously, this is amazing.
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