It wasn't unusual for Mrs Baker to uphold a ball for the upper class in the grand halls of the hotel, especially one for Christmas-time, to spread word of her business.

They were imposing events, with a hired orchestra, caterers, a constant flow of fancy alcohol. The staff were turned into waiters and waitresses to make it all just that much fancier, catering to the guests' every whim.

Joe had been dragged into it this time, something he hadn't expected due to the fact that his employment was only recent. He'd tried to deny it, stating that it would be better for him to stay out of sight of the guests, but Mrs Baker insisted he helped out.

So here he was, stood by one of the walls away from the rest of the workers, hands behind his back as he waited for this event to be over. He really couldn't wait -- he'd happily go back to his cramped little room by the maids' quarters.

His eyes, however, were on you. He watched your every move, his eyes cold, his gaze hard. He wouldn't look away. He couldn't.