How To Hide A Body

How To; Not Pay For Dinner With Class

I was out of breath by the time I reached the hotel. I walked up to my room, where I hastily opened the door, then collapsed on the canopy bed. The duvet raised and deflated around me, beckoning me to go under the covers and delve into the land of dreams. But, I couldn't. I had to tell my albatross that I had done the deed. Next door, I heard the door open, then close. Bart. He was back. I smiled, swung myself out the bed, and unlocked the door. He came lumbering in and collapsed on my beige chaise lounge.

"We did it, " he muttered.

I walked over to the mini-bar and grabbed a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses of it into some crystal glasses. I handed one glass to Bart who downed it in one foul swoop.

"We did it," I agreed, sipping the liquid gently as I walked over to the balcony which provided a magnificent view of the city of light.

"Do you know why they call it the city of light?" I asked.

"No, why?"

"It's because Paris was one of the first cities to install gas lighting. What is odd is that London did it first, but they get no credit."

Bart muttered a surprised hmph then stood up to refill his glass.

"How about we grab a bite to eat?" I asked Bart, turning around to face him.

"Room Service?" He asked as he poured the golden liquid.

"Why don't we experience France at its finest," I stopped to gulp down the rest of my champagne, "Wine. Croissants. Champagne. Fraises-"

"You do know I can't speak French. All I can say is 'Bonjour' and 'Où sont les toilettes?'" He said.

I chuckled, "That's all you need to know."

Bart walked over and raised his full glass to my empty one and said, "Let's go to the fanciest restaurant in all of Paris!"

"I'll drink to that!" I smirked and clinked my glass against his.

I opened my laptop and found the most expensive and the fanciest restaurants in Paris.

"Oh, la la! Look at this one! 'La Meurice'; It's only $500 per person. Shall we?" I asked.

He peered over my shoulder at the laptop screen as I scrolled through the pictures. It looked magnificent! The walls, tables and chairs were all painted gold; crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, polished mirrors hung on the walls.

"Looks decent." He said, bemused.

"Well, get dressed! Tonight, we feast on oysters, lobster and caviar!"

***

Bart looked rather handsome in his new black suit. We had to steal it of course, but it was worth it. I was wearing a scarlet red dress, with a belt lined with diamonds and a perfect purse from Tiffany And Co. Again, stolen. Do you honestly think I would waste money on things that are so easily taken? We pulled up in a polished silver Rolls Royce. We had to blackmail the chauffeur and steal the Rolls, but it came with free wine and a TV, so how could I refuse? Bart got out first and held the door open for me. I glanced at the beautiful hotel Le Meurice was situated in. Of course, it was five stars, and I couldn't wait to step inside and walk across the polished marble floors in my stolen Stiletto shoes (which were breaking my ankles with every step). When we entered the lobby, the Secretary asked me for my name.

"What, you don't recognise me?" I asked, stuck up. I put on an Arabian accent.

"Well, no, ma'am." The secretary asked flustered, quickly scanning the guest list for any name that might ring a bell.