There's a certain feeling one gets when someone is staring, and ever since Valerie walked in, she was feeling it. It takes getting used to, knowing that eyes were literally on you, but being stared at didn't bother her. Well, not enough to ruin her mood, anyway. It was when she heard people talking about her - within earshot - that she took slight offense. Valerie was no stranger to talking about someone behind their back, but she had the common sense...or common decency to do it when the target wasn't around. Valerie, in mid sip of her White Russian, moved her eyes to the booth next to her, her peripheral vision picking up that it was occupied by two people. One of whom was clearly unimpressed. And absolutely uninformed. 

She had to resist the urge to laugh at the man's statement. If he actually believed that, it stood to reason that that was a common belief. Who would ever suspect that a media mogul and a yearly charity donator would be someone who casually tosses people from helicopters and drowns innocent witnesses? Granted, her charity donations were largely for tax write-off reasons, but the public didn't know that. The public didn't know much of anything. Blissful ignorance. 

"You know," Valerie spoke, her head now turned to face the two - probably not a couple judging by the way they spoke to each other. It was far too casual for a married pair. "I'm not a celebrity, not in the movie star, musician sort of the word." Valerie slid out of her booth and stood next to the other booth, her eyes looking over the man and the woman who was much more interested in the greasy bar food than anything else. "Celebrities are like you two. They live paycheck to paycheck. Granted their paychecks are significantly larger, but it's true. They toss around money like they have nothing to lose. But me? I'm not a celebrity. I don't live paycheck to paycheck. I could buy this place right now, but there wouldn't be a point." 

Valerie snapped her fingers and waited for a bartender to walk over. "A bottle of cristal and three glasses. Don't keep me waiting." Another snap of her fingers and the bartender ran off to fill the order. "There is, however, a point in purchasing a five hundred dollar bottle of champagne. A celebrity wouldn't do that, not to the non-rich and famous. But again, I'm not a celebrity." Without waiting for an invitation, Valerie took a seat in the booth, tilting her head as she stared towards the woman looking through the menu. "You don't want to order food from a place like this. Wouldn't want to wreck your figure for your boyfriend here." 

Valerie took a sip from her White Russian, her eyes still on the other woman. Under normal circumstances, Valerie would have just let the pair continue to babble on. But they had been talking about The Countess, and Valerie was somewhat vain. Besides, the point of these trips to the 'normal' world was all about mingling. About making an impression with the working class. 

So she would mingle.