It was about 9:00pm when Remy arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. It was one of her usual haunts in London because it had a tendency to draw a large, diverse crowd of reasonable well-to-do clientele. She also preferred it because she and one of the bartenders had something of an agreement; he let her stay in one of the rooms upstairs free of charge as long as she agreed to wear something low cut and pretend not to notice him staring at her cleavage.
The bartender in question was working tonight, which Remy had already known before she came. Tonight she was wearing a sharply cut black blazer over a black, body-hugging V-neck dress with a silver zipper running the length of the front of the dress, and tall, spiked black heels. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders in long, slightly mussed curls, which she tossed over her shoulder as she approached the bar, leaning over pointedly with her elbows on the bar top so as to bring the bartender’s attention to her quickly.
“And how are we doing tonight, Miss Devaul?” Robert asked Remy’s chest.
“Fine, just fine,” Remy replied easily, shifting her arms so as to frame her assets even more clearly. If he was going to stare, she may as well make it worth his while and ensure she got her end of the bargain, “Just thought I’d stop in for a drink and… maybe stay a while.”
“Right, right,” Robert said, breaking his laser gaze at her chest to check that no one else was close enough to hear their exchange. Robert did not lie with the finesse Remy did, and even after all the times their plan had gone through smoothly, he still seemed to worry someone would catch on. Men were stupid like that.
“So just a whiskey and the key,” Remy probed him, giving him a slightly seductive smile as she brought his eyes back to her. After taking a moment to remind himself why he agreed to this arrangement - a loooong look down – Robert filled a tumbler with whiskey, no ice, and reached back to take a key off of the rack behind the bar.
“Here you are then,” Robert said, sliding both across the bar into Remy’s waiting hands.
“Thanks so much,” Remy said, smiling sweetly as she flicked him two sickles, enough to cover the whiskey and the tip, before standing up slowly and sauntering over to the steps.
The room Robert gave her was always the room on the farthest end of the hall, which Remy preferred for its discretion. Slipping the key into the lock, the dark-haired woman turned the handle and pushed the door open, kicking it closed behind her. She set the tumbler down on the bedside table and shrugged out of her blazer, tossing it on a chair on the far side of the room.
Glancing at the clock, Remy saw that it was 9:25pm. Perfect timing. Remy checked her appearance in the mirror and, satisfied, sat down lazily on the bed and took a sip of her whiskey. Now she just had to wait for the second half of this party for two to arrive.
((Cue Philipp))