I can't believe I'm doing this. Mikey and the director both have their reasons. Mikey is an awestruck fanboy, salivating at the opportunity to join me in hobnobbing with the stars he's worshiped for years. The director sees a way to protect the company's sizable investment with a little subterfuge that, by the standards of the industry is mild and so inexpensive as to be a bargain.

I'm doing it because it's more money that I could hope to make in 20 years for a few week's work . Plus if it doesn't work, I'm not responsible for anything. And it's completely anonymous. No one back home will ever know, and even Mikey is being paid a hefty sum in yearly stipends, to keep his trap shut.

And mostly I figured 'what are the odds of this actually working?' I figured I'd make a tidy sum just showing them how misguided they were.

The makeover team barely batted an eye when Dez informed them that I was in fact a male. They had me strip naked and looked me up and down. Dennis, one of the dressers looked at my package and said 'oh, honey... this is nothing... I've handled the girls down at the Queen of Shebar...” he snapped his fingers... “we'll have you squared away in a snap!” So this guy Dennis wasn't worried about my ….junk. And no one else seemed to notice that I was flat as a pancake. As they measured my arms and legs and torso and inseam, I kept asking them how they could make this work. And the universal response was “Honey... have you met Katherine Keller?” followed by a nervous laugh.

I eventually figured out that Katherine Keller was as gaunt and gangly – and even as freakishly tall - as I was. I was also informed that this was not uncommon in former supermodels. Since the camera easily puts on 5 ...or 35 pounds, being chronically malnourished was pretty much the norm in that field. The fitters regaled me with horror stories of the stuff they witnessed girls doing to their bodies to remain commercially viable. I felt a little guilty.. I told them the only diet I had ever been on was to load up on carbs before a long race or pasta and sugared soda after a 100 KM bike race or triathlon. They were stunned and looked at me like some sort of alien creature.

After the 'surveying' was finished and the crew gleefully clucked that their work was easy since I was no more than an inch from Katherine in any measurement.... to which Dennis whispered in my ear “including down-there. Bitch has serious camel toe” with a wink and a nudge that made me feel a bit uncomfortable... this is a woman whose life I'm stealing that we're dishing about.

I was then remanded to the custody of Miranda – the stylist. Or as I prefer to remember her: Miranda – the sadist.

Miranda had her own team of specialists, to handle my hair... coloring it to match Katherine's dark brown and weaving in extensions to draw it out to her length. She then oversaw a cut, that while not exactly what she wore in the movie, was close enough that it looked like a slightly grown-out, restyled version of the same head of hair. While I sat, eyes closed, having my hair styled and pore cleansing masque hardening on my face, minions were at work on my hands and feet. I could feel them filing my nails, scraping and sculpting my cuticles and applying what smelled like polish. Then came the coup de grace as I was slathered with what I thought was another masque – only over pretty much my whole body. I zoned out as it slowly hardened and seemed to shrink and tug at my skin. Then I howled in shock as they suddenly ripped it from my skin....with my skin?.... over my entire body! I felt like a peeled grape. But the feeling passed. I was now smoother than a baby's bottom everywhere I could feel. They then sat me back, did my makeup and spritzed me with the Michael Kors perfume that Katherine did all the ads for. Dennis came along and said “don't flinch. This is way easier than the waxing” and did some criss crosses of cloth tape around my groin, pushed some stuff inside, wrapped my ….thing... in tape like a mummy, then hauled it back between my legs and taped it up between my cheeks.... pulling now excess scrotal skin around the sides of the center tape so that it resembled a large, saggy labia. “Camel Toe” he reminded me.

While trussing me up, I asked him. “How exactly am I supposed to ….ummmm pee?”

He scrunched his face up. “....carefully?” Then he laughed. “Kidding! This is just a fitting, and yeah.... we really didn't give any thought to that because we didn't know you were a …. well, you know....” and he slapped my shoulder teasingly. Then he said. “Just hold it if you have to for now sweetie. After this fitting we'll get everything squared away and by the next time, we'll have everything all sorted out.”

I assured him that my bladder was fine for the moment, but that I was concerned about the times when it wasn't. He insisted that it wouldn't be a problem, though I'm not sure even he had figured out how.

Then things got really weird.

I'd been primped and plucked, powdered and perfumed.... I'd been flayed alive, I was standing stark naked and shivering in the middle of a group of strangers with my plumbing trussed up like some sadistic ritual. I was acutely aware of my – hopefully imperceptible trembling, and the gooseflesh on my skin. I was appraised by the cold, clinical eye of Martine, the one who seemed to be in charge of this large entourage. She nodded slightly and racks of clothing were wheeled into the room. Dennis the dresser whispered something to her and she smiled slightly and nodded. At that, he scurried off and returned shortly with some small flat boxes. With a flourish, he produced some breathtakingly sexy lingerie and sheer, shimmering hose. I knew my eyes went wide at the sight of them, and I can't even imagine the expression my face made when I realized what I was expected to do with them.

“I.... I really don't know where to... what to... how....”

Dennis tisked at me slightly. “Are you telling me you've never worn expensive lingerie before?”

I nodded absentmindedly and said, practically to myself “I've never worn any womens.... anything.”

“Get OUT!” He slapped my arm playfully. But as I turned to him with what must have been a deer in the headlights expression, his face went somber. “get...out?” He whispered. Then he regained his focus and grabbed hold of my right shin, gently lifting my foot off the floor. “One leg at a time hon...” he smiled as I absentmindedly let him bend my limbs like a barbie doll. He pulled the panties up to my knees, grabbed my two hands and placed them under the side panels. “Now, just pull up.” he smiled, which I did... still staring blankly into space like some sort of robot or zombie. I was completely detached from this utterly foreign experience. Though it wasn't really foreign. I'd pulled on underwear every day of my life... so it was totally familiar in a way... yet completely alien.... I could feel the sheer silk hugging my hairless body, and sitting in a very unfamiliar way as it rested snugly against my tucked away parts. I'd half expected to become aroused... but I didn't. I think the sensations were so strange and new that they must have just overloaded my brain. I was not aroused... not sexually. Yet the sensations were overwhelming in a different way. As Dennis handed me the brassiere, a thought hit me.

“Are these...” I said, glancing down at my glistening panties and the filmy brassiere dangling from my hand “...are these....hers?”

He looked confused for a moment, then smiled and shook his head. “Oh, no. They're brand new.... they're yours dear! ….but yes.... they were from her collection. She only wears new underwear.” Then he put his hand up to my ear and whispered “I don't think that girl knows the word 'laundry'!”

He took the bra from me and started to explain how to put it on when I just reached out and ...did it... “Pretty much only one way to do this, right?” I smiled as I reached back and hooked the clasp without even thinking.

“And you've never worn womens clothing before?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Well that's not the only way to learn how a bra works!”

“Ah... girlfriends?....” he leered

“And movies...television....magazines.....” I tried to veer the subject from girlfriends. I wasn't exactly the hot catch at my school.

“Well, wherever you learned it, you learned it well. ….You're a natural....” I got a feeling that he felt he'd gone too far. I decided to shrug it off and keep things light.

“Like learning a language...” I shrugged. “Best way to do it is to just think in it. Like a native.”

He grinned. “I like that. And you're right. My god, you're such a natural I keep slipping and thinking you're Katherine. But thankfully, you keep reminding me you're not.”

I blanched. “Oh no! What am I doing? ...or not doing?”

Dennis grinned “you're not being all bitchy and shrieking at me... God, girl. I could get used to this!” he grinned as he playfully slapped my arm. Then he caught himself and gasped. “Oh, God. I'm so sorry! I mean ...guy.... dude....” The words sounded so alien coming out of his mouth.

I laughed. “Dennis... it's ok... none taken!” I gave him a warm smile. “In fact, I take it as a supreme compliment that you feel that comfortable around me.”

He fidgeted slightly. “Actually, a lot more comfortable than I ever did around ….her.” He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground as he continued talking. “Actually, she's always so …..high strung... none of us ever know what's going to set her off.... If I wanted to work on the bomb squad....:”

I just had to laugh. “Oh my God! What is she... the blue wire or the black wire?”

He grinned back at me. “We never know!” and he laughed with relief as my shoulders shook from my trying to suppress my own laugh. Then, deadpan, he did a spot-on Danny Glover Lethal Weapon impression. “....I'm getting too old for this shit!”

And we both had to hold on to each other to keep from collapsing to the floor in spasms of laughter.

Somehow, that moment completely evaporated any tension over the supreme strangeness of my never expected situation, and I surrendered myself to the moment. I was not Katherine Keller. Everyone made that clear. And clearly they all meant it as a supreme compliment. However I was a perfect doppelganger of the notorious celebrity trainwreck, and I figured if they could turn her into the glamorous starlet in all the magazines, then maybe ...just maybe.... they could equip me with what I needed to pull this P.R. scam off.

After Dennis was through with me and I was decked out in 'my' lingerie, sheer stockings and alarmingly high strappy heels, he summoned Grace - the 'filler'.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but Grace quickly unpacked a number of silicone ..pads.. and draped them across my thighs wrapping around to my backside, and she brusquely thrust her hands inside my brassiere, dropping some cold silicone wedges against my chest and then tugging my chest skin on top of them so that the bra suddenly appeared to be appropriately filled.

“Unlike the lingerie...” Dennis grinned “...those are Katherine's. ….Custom fitted and damned expensive!” He smiled wide as he looked me up and down. “And they fit like they were custom fitted for you! ….So own them! Walk over to me girl.” He snapped his wrist and fingers and pointed at the floor in front of him. I began to walk, but in the heels, and with the ...weight.... and ….ballast.... of the silicone hip pads and the ….pendulous... sway of the inserts on my chest, it was all but impossible to walk the way I used to. And even if I could will myself to do so, it seemed pointless and counterproductive. This body knew how it wanted to carry itself. There was a right way to do it, and I instinctively felt it. By the second step I knew it and slid right into it. And by the sixth step, I had taken Dennis' earlier advice and was owning it. It felt empowering and confident and ….as it was supposed to be.... I'd agonize over that later, but in the moment I was feeling it.... and felt I was nailing it. And looking at the sparkle in Dennis' eyes, I was sure I wasn't the only one noticing this.

The wardrobe crew came in and draped me in the beaded designer gown chosen for ….her.... to wear at the premiere. It slid down my frame and fell to hang perfectly on its own. This seemed to startle the wardrobe crew who stood ready with their clips and pins to 'make it work' but found themselves with little to do.

Dennis nodded and called for Talia, who quickly appeared with a stack of boxes filled with lavish accessories like a diamond choker which she fastened over my underwhelming adam's apple, matching chandelier earrings which she threaded through my lobes with just the lightest struggle. I breathed with relief that the holes remained open. A sparkly bangle bracelet, a jeweled comb hairclip, some rings and a subtly extravagant ankle chain completed the accessorizing.

This probably should have weirded me out, and looking back, I'm not sure why it didn't. Maybe it was all so overwhelming, my brain simply couldn't process it. So instead, I was simply numb and acquiescent when Dennis walked to the door and smiled “Showtime!”

I took a deep calming breath, absorbing the scent of my perfume, held my head high, and braced for impact.

Dez and Mikey were sitting by the window. Dez seemed to be regaling my fanboy cousin with tawdry tales of tinsletown when Dennis loudly cleared his throat and they turned in unison. And froze.

It was exactly the encouragement I needed. I had seen the reflection in the mirror, but it felt like looking at someone else. But now I could feel their eyes riveted on me, and I lifted my chin a little, slipped the slightest trace of a self-assured smile on my face and returned their gaze. ….when I realized they weren't looking at my eyes. Reaching up and brushing my hair with my hand to flash the sparkling earring caught their attention and their eyes lifted until I knew they were on my face. THEN I caught their eyes with mine and was certain I had captured their gaze. Whether it was by sheer force of will or whatever, I knew they wouldn't break eye contact until I was ready. And I was far from ready.

I strode across the living room of the suite, acutely conscious of when the floor changed from carpet to a tiled area in the middle of the room. I was fully awaiting, and gratified for the confirmation when my stilettos hit the tile with a satisfying click and the sensation of the hard tile traveling from my heel up my leg bones. The sound and sensation emboldened me and made my stride stronger and even more sure. I think by this time, it should probably be called a strut. I didn't set out to show off, but with the feel of the shoes on the tile, the brushing of the clothing against my frame, and the weight and sway of the hip and breast pads, as well as the subtle tug of the earrings swaying to the rhythm of my gait, it was damn near impossible not to walk sexy. So I just threw myself into it and swam with the current so to speak.

I took the long way across the room. To prolong the experience, sure.... but also to swing over to a counter with flutes of champagne on a tray. I swept one into my hand without breaking my stride and walked over to face them, choosing to seat myself on the arm of a nearby loveseat. I would have preferred a stool, but the arm was high enough to allow me to sit in the heels and amply display my crossed legs in shimmering hose peeking out through the slit in the long gown. I somehow knew that if I had chosen to sit properly in the low chair, I would be hunched up like a bucket seat and the effect would be ruined. I then lowered my eyes for a moment ...releasing their gaze, and looked at them hopefully. “Well?” I smiled.

“Jesus” Dez muttered.

“Christ!” Mikey gasped.

I was enjoying this newfound power, and decided to experiment with it. Seeing if I could switch it off and more importantly back on. I consciously thought of myself as L.C. And tried to project 'his' facial expression and body language. I furrowed my brow, changed my posture and in my flat L.C. voice said “too much?”

They reacted as if slapped out of a trance. They jerked their heads back. Mikey said. “No...NO... man....” then squirmed uncomfortably. “You, uh.... you make it ….work”

Dez just nodded mutely.

OK. The 'off' switch seemed to work. Now for the real test. Could I turn the reality distortion field back ON? I gave it just a moment's thought and decided to trust my instinct. I thought 'I AM her' as I changed my posture and facial muscles again. I let out a nervous – hopefully feminine – sigh, and shrugged my shoulders back, which jiggled my breasts ever so slightly, giving me subtle tactile confirmation, and my companions a near-subliminal assertion that I was back in female mode again.

“This is all so new to me...” I said in my 'Katherine voice' waving my hand up and down my body. “I'm not sure what's enough and what's too much. I'm counting on you ….especially you Mr Lehman... since you know her... for feedback.” I bit my lip slightly in what I hoped would come off as a nervous, almost fawn-like appearance of uncertainty. “I'm inside looking out, so I have no idea if I'm successfully looking and acting like her. All I can tell is how I feel ...and since I don't know how it's supposed to feel, I have no idea if I'm doing it right.... ???” I looked at him sheepishly.

His warm ...nearly ...parental... gaze signaled me that yes, the 'ON' switch was right where I thought, and I had flipped it effortlessly.

“Oh, my dear....” he replied comfortingly and reflexively. Then he caught himself and I saw his face do a subtle ...thing... as he remembered who he was talking to. He nodded and slowly allowed himself a smile. “You are doing it exactly right. More than just right. ….In fact...” he squirmed almost imperceptibly “I keep finding myself forgetting that I'm talking to you and not her.”

I smiled broadly, relieved that the illusion was working. But something occurred to me. “When you catch yourself.... when you suddenly recall that I'm not Katherine Keller.... is there anything I'm doing.... or not doing... that reminds you?”

He laughed oddly. Almost guiltily. “You smile at me. Katherine is more of a ...scowler... and a yeller..” He lowered his eyes slightly. I think he felt bad talking about a woman who at this moment was detained in a rehab facility, and whom he was currently trying to replace... with startling success... with a boy.

I involuntarily squirmed at the thought as well. Then I struggled to regain my composure and steer the conversation to a less awkward place.

“That poor girl! I can't imagine going through life angry and dissatisfied all the time. She must be dreadfully unhappy. I just hope her hospital stay can help her. And I'm humbled for the opportunity to ...steward... her public persona and polish her reputation until she can come back and reclaim it.”

Dez looked at me oddly. “I have no doubt that you will. Just this initial test.... you don't just capture her physical likeness.... talking with you here... observing your body language... the openness of your eyes... the lack of ...defensiveness....” He exhaled deeply. “You don't just capture Katherine Keller the actress.... you capture the Katherine Keller people see on the screen or in magazines. You... in person... are the Katherine Keller the publicists dream of. You are more Katherine Keller – the icon – than Katherine Keller the high strung, neurotic person ever was! My biggest concern is that after you've spent a few months in her shoes, she may find them impossible to fill herself.”

He seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then I could ...sense... as he regained his focus. He clapped his hands together and triumphantly said “Well, this initial little test was startlingly successful, It exceeded...... well..... so..... if you're still willing to enter into this arrangement, I have not a moment's hesitation that I.... we..... er... our production company.... wants to proceed with this arrangement.”

I was caught up in the moment and still perhaps a little drunk with my newfound power as Hollywood starlet Katherine Keller. I immediately nodded my ascent and smiled at him in a way that made him blush... which had not been my intent. Still, it tickled me that I could have such an effect with a mere smile and eye contact. I was in. Wholeheartedly.

“Alright. We're diving right into the deep end. But after tonight, I have no doubt you will handle this effortlessly. We already know the gown she was to have worn to the premiere fits you like a second skin. And you carry yourself in it regally. So this is what you will be wearing on the red carpet at the premiere.”

“Red Carpet?” I guess I had always known he would want me to double for Katherine at the premiere, but I hadn't thought about the Red Carpet and the gauntlet of paparazzi and entertainment journalists. Dez seemed unfazed.

“Oh, please. You'll be fine. You've taken to being Katherine like a duck to water.”

“...or a swan!” Mikey chimed in, grinning.

“Michael...” Dez addressed him. “Would you do us the honor of portraying the celebrity press interviewing your cous.... Ms Keller?”

I think Mikey was suddenly overwhelmed by so many of his fantasies coming true... meeting his favorite director, getting to be part of a crazy Hollywood scheme that would only happen in a movie.... and finally getting to portray one of those pushy entertainment reporters he idolized.

“Ms Keller! Ms Keller!” He ran up to me and stuck a champagne flute in my face like a microphone.

“...I'm so excited to be here tonight to share this remarkable story with a new generation of audiences....”

“You gown is exquisite... who are you wearing and what about all those rumours linking you with Prince Harry?”

“This gown is from my dear friend, designer Laurent Richaud, the jewelry Harry Winston of course..... but the evening isn't about me or what I'm wearing.... it's about this remarkable story and the amazing team of creative people, both on and behind the screen who collaborated to bring you the film we are about to see tonight.” I then smiled, batted my heavily mascaraed lashes and continued walking.

Mikey called after me like a pushy reporter “...but what about the..”

I cut him off “..Enjoy the film!...” I smiled turning my head over my shoulder to glance at him while I continued to walk away without missing a beat.

“Ha, ha! I said you were a natural!” Dez laughed.

“Thank you” I smiled, relieved. This was beginning to feel surprisingly natural surprisingly quickly. I was beginning to think I could do this in my sleep. Then Dez brought me back down to earth.

“There is still one major area of concern” he frowned. I raised an eyebrow at him. Mikey and I glanced at each other. I thought I was nailing it. “Your accent.”

“Well, can't we just say she's still caught up in character from the movie? That happens with actresses, can't it?”

He nodded slightly. Then his frown turned into something else. It wasn't exactly a smile. I couldn't quite read his expression. There seemed to be humour there, but no joy. “Of course. You never saw the film. …..Katherine never ...got... the accent. Oh, she tried.... but it came out as ….something …..else....”

“Like Gwenyth Paltrow in 'Sliding Doors'?” Mikey grinned.

The director regarded him with a melancholy smile. “....More like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.” And we all involuntarily winced. He scanned the room and grabbed his iPhone. “Skip... get a screener of 'Birds sent to Ms Keller's suite.... and round up as many of her other DVDs as you can. Could you get someone to burn any interviews or presskits she's done to a disc and send them along too? Umm..thanks.” He put his phone back in his jacket and turned back to me. “I think it's best that you waste no time on that ...interesting... accent she did in Thornbirds and instead focus on the actual Katherine Keller accent. It's actually a non-accent, since she spent years while she was modeling going to voice coaches to lose her thick Pittsburgh accent and get a generic 'Hollywood Starlet' accent in order to achieve her next career goal. Which as we all know, she did in spades. Focus on her Audrey Hepburn/Marilyn demure delivery, but never lose sight of the fact that the accent is built on the solid foundation of her native accent from an old rustbelt foundry town. Are you familiar with Pittsburgh? ...from movies?

I thought hard.... “Flashdance” I volunteered.

He shook his head. “Not a good example.” Then he smirked “For accents. But you could pick up a few things.”

I felt myself blush.

“Perks of being a wallflower?” Mikey asked.

The director nodded slightly. “Better than Flashdance.” he smiled. “Still, not exactly Rosetta Stone for a Pittsburgh accent. Yet you could learn a thing or two from Emma Watson. Her accent.... or her complete lack of her own accent.. are impressive. If you can lose your own and get ...close... to Katherine's....” He furrowed his brow, then waved his hand around. “any slight slips from Katherine's accent we can explain as residue from all the training you did for your accent in the film....” He clapped his hands together, and I got the distinct impression that having satisfied himself with the resolution, the subject was closed. “Alright. I'm having DVDs and other ….study materials... sent to your suite....”

“Room.” Mikey said with a bit of disdain. “It's nice, but it's far from...” he swept his arm waving across Dez's lavish accomodations “...a suite.”

Dez smiled nervously and eyed me. “I'm afraid that will not do. Once the press gets word that Katherine Keller is staying here in advance of tomorrow's premiere ….and I've already leaked word.... The paparazzi will converge on her suite. So she must have a suite. ….and she does... the rooftop terrace suite directly above....” Then he grinned wickedly “And extremely visible to any paparazzo with access to a helicopter and a telephoto lens. Welcome to Katherine Keller's world my dear.”

He then turned to Mikey and seemed honestly apologetic. “I'm truly sorry to break up you and your cousin on your holiday. But you understand, she must be Katherine from this point on. And the press is....pretty pervasive...” he smirked “...not really any chance of alone time between you two from this point on.”

Mikey shook his head sadly. I tried to cheer him up. I walked over to him on my towering heels, lifted his bowed chin gently with my index finger and smiled. “Hey. At least now you have your own room!” Then a thought hit me and I scowled reflexively. I put on a stern face and gazed into his eyes with as much authority as I could muster, “You MUST not tell your parents that your chaperone ditched you!”

At that, he burst out laughing and shot out of his chair giving me a tight hug. I stroked the back of his head as one would a cherished child. We slowly pulled apart, and he gazed up at me. I think I saw a glisten in the corner of his eye, but knew he'd deny it anyway, so I let it go.

“Knock 'em dead cuz. ….see you at the premiere?”

I nodded. “Count on it!” and I shot him the sultriest Katherine Keller smile I could come up with. He choked out a laugh and waved as he walked to the lift.

Suddenly I was standing alone, in designer gown and jewels, scent of perfume in my nostrils... acutely aware of the dead sexy lingerie underneath it all and feeling the heaving of my breasts with every breath. And I turned to look at this middle aged stranger I had met just this afternoon as he regarded me intently with a look I could not read.

“Well. This is awkward!” he exclaimed, breaking the tension. I exhaled with relief and my relaxed smile signaled my agreement.

“So young lady....” he waved his hand around. “...oh, I know.... but if we're going to do this, we must fully commit.”

“You mean I must fully commit....”

“Yes. Especially. But no one around you must give it away either. So, from this moment on, you must be Katherine Keller. Or at the very, very least.... Elsie McGuinness... a Katherine Keller lookalike hired by the studio to distract the press and protect the star. That way even if our primary goal fails, we still succeed in protecting Katherine.”

“...and ME. If they think I'm a hired lookalike, they'll be dismissive and contemptuous. But if they find out I'm a bloke passing myself off as Katherine Kel..”

“Don't even GO there.” he snapped. “Not gonna happen and it can only distract you from your goal. And we need 100% of your focus. You have some serious immersion training ahead my dear. You need to get her accent. And observe her body language and gestures. Her demeanor in interviews – since the public face is the only one you need worry about.... that's all anyone will see. Study the way she carries herself..... actually, you pretty much have that down, so don't spend too much time with that.” He smiled and put his hand around my waist leading me to a large gentleman who looked like a linebacker in a very expensive business suit. “Emile will escort you to your suite. Oh don't worry about the gown. The wardrobe crew is waiting for you in your suite. They'll take care of it until the premiere. Anyway, you can't surrender it until you have something else to change into. Sorry, those chinos and Wallabees simply will not do.” he smiled. “The team is already preparing your suite. You'll find everything you need to be completely Katherine from skin to smile. And a team of coaches to give you a crash course in Katherine 101. ….I'm afraid you won't be getting much sleep tonight....” and his face screwed up in a reflexive smile.

I took a guess “....much like the real Katherine?” I smiled.

He winked at me. “She's a fast learner!” he said to the burly gentleman who held open the door and escorted me to my new rooftop terrace suite.