phantom-of-the-soundstage:

Taking another look at her it hit him. “Oh now I remember you, we exchanged glances at the film exhibition at the Gotham Museum.” He smiled slightly and put his hand out.

“My name is Jim Meyers, full time celebrity impersonator.” He chuckled and tipped his hat.

Ah. She should have remembered. The glare that she sent herself in her mind would drop an elephant. Externally, she let her features fall into a graceful smile –– polite, cheery, normal. “Selina. Call me Selina.” It was by the tone of her voice that implied sternly that she wouldn’t supply her surname, nor would she supply it with him asking. “Full-time secretary and drinker extraordinaire.” She grinned easily. Not too far a stretch from the truth, but enough that she wouldn’t be traced back to it. There were hundreds and thousands of bars in Gotham, hundreds and thousands of drinkers. Hundreds of secretaries. She was virtually untraceable, generic enough that she faded into the brickwork. And so she smiled.