The press conference was due to start at four o'clock sharp. According to Rosemarie Oliveira, this meant that Antoinette had to be at the hotel by eleven o'clock, fed something stale and measly from the vending machine to make sure the heiress didn't starve or pass out, and then be completely monitored by an eagle-eyed team of stylists, hairdressers and make-up artists. The official reason for this was to make sure that they had enough time to complete the make-over and run through the script once more before the conference began. The unofficial reason was that Rosemarie thought that wealthy, famous or privileged people had no sense of time.
The hotel room was small and cramped. There were two beds, a small kitchen counter which served as the top of the mini-fridge, and a flatscreen television positioned in the centre of the room. The Portuguese woman sat Toni down on the end of the bed, snapped at her to fix her 'gorilla' posture, and then switched on a rom-com and ordered her not to move a muscle. Then Rosemarie clapped her hands and let her professionals go to work. Most of the time spent by the numerous health and beauty professionals was bickering, arguing back and forth, and discussing which fabrics or colours would highlight the woman's good features or expose flaws ('What flaws?," Toni snorted while laughing at Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey). She was just into the best part of the movie, her stylists arguing about what kind of shoes she should wear, when the door opened and Rosemarie returned. With a guest. Loki.
"Oh, look," Toni remarked flatly, "It's the Wicked Witch of the West."
"Leave the man alone, Stark," Rosemarie's nostrils flared, "You are to be on your best behaviour. Both of you."
Antoinette's brows raised and her lips reshaped into something pert and dubious. The god of mischief returned a look with similar intensity as he stepped out from behind the Portuguese woman, his eyes scanning the room with distaste. He was wearing an all-black suit and his hair was slicked back, left loose around his shoulders. In all honesty, he could've given Brad Pitt's portrayal of the Grim Reaper in Meet Joe Black a run for his money.
"You're right, Rose. I should be polite," Toni smiled prettily, "So how was your commute, Kermit the Frog?"
Loki rolled his eyes.
"Rosemarie," Loki said, "Must I be forced to endure - "
"You are both my most problematic clients," Rosemarie interrupted curtly, "On most days, each of your reputations vie for the worst ranked out of all of the Avengers. I need you to both understand that, as your PR Manager, it is my job to make sure you look and act your best in the public eye. My record in this is absolutely perfect and I haven't had one bad experience yet. Should you make me fail at this," She smiled, bright and terrifying, "I will go insane and take you both with me. Understand?"
They nodded, disturbed.
"Wonderful. Give me but a moment," Rosemarie cleared her throat,"I need to take a call."
While the PR Manager left the room, taking the stylists and make-up artists with her, Loki sighed and took a seat beside her on the end of the bed. Toni glanced at him icily and reached for the remote on the end of the bed, putting up the volume to dissuade him from talking. Surprisingly, it didn't work.
"Sleeping well of late, Miss Stark?" Loki replied.
"Like a baby," Toni remarked coldly.
"It appears that snakes are a startling cure for insomnia," Loki mused, "What a discovery. I wonder if all manner of reptiles do the same? Perhaps there will be a need for further investigation. A crocodile, perhaps, or a small alligator?"
"Oh, no. The secret is not being a sleazy dirtbag who tried - and failed - to take over the planet," Toni cocked a brow, "And high thread-count sheets."
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Lore: When a Trickster Meets His Match
Fanfiction"Loki." Her hands were timid. They were much more shy than he had been, which should've made him wonder if he'd been too forward with his actions in the first place, and there was a tremble in each fingertip as she gently reached out and put her ha...
