Angelika, early court and late jazz

07:00, a hard court at the Hyde Park tennis centre, ball after ball until the shoulders loosen. 21:00, a lift in Mayfair, long straight black hair worn down, the racquet swapped for a slim dark dress and heels she can walk a whole evening in. Angelika carries both halves of her day in the way she moves: athletic at 172 cm, upright without effort, brown eyes that take in a corridor in one pass. Mid twenties, she dresses for the building she is visiting, which in her corner of London usually means marble floors and a doorman who has seen everything.

Afternoons belong to contemporary art. She drifts through the white rooms of Hauser & Wirth on Savile Row and the smaller galleries of Cork Street, looking for work that starts an argument, and she enjoys the argument more than the work. In company she is confident and quick, playful once she has your measure, elegant in the old sense of never needing to raise her voice. English is her language, and she uses it well, mostly for teasing.

Her ideal hotel night keeps things close to home. A first drink at the Rivoli Bar at The Ritz, gilt and low lamps, something short and very cold in her glass while she asks about the best thing you saw today. Then a stroll into Soho for a late jazz set, or no jazz at all if the talk turns out better than the band. By eleven the lobby has gone quiet, the night porter nods, and the rest of the evening moves upstairs at whatever pace suits you both.

She lives in Mayfair, minutes from most W1 and SW1 hotels. Every duration is laid out on the rates page; for tonight, send Henrietta your hotel and a start time and she will confirm Angelika's arrival to the minute.