Sheffield, I understand that you are currently looking for some female personal assistants. I believe the current term is ‘sugar babies’?”“Put...crudely, as bluntness calls for, I suppose, but yes, I am looking for some new guests for my couch house.”“David kind of filled me in on your history, and Monica and Clarisa were also helpful in explaining more about you. I believe that I can help you with your employee problem, Mr. Sheffield.”“Is this a job interview, Ms. Rogan? And, please, given the. She was met by another white square room but not as brightly lit, more atmospheric and there was music softly playing. It was also warmer in here than the other room, but a nice warmth. By a table across the room from her stood a very fine looking young man. He could not have been more than in his mid-twenties but he looked very professional in his white jacket-shirt and trousers. His skin was lightly tanned and his hair was short in that almost severe way and he had neatly groomed stubble upon. You have the kitchen, living room, bathroom and the two bedrooms. What you didn't know was that there was a trap door underneath the rocking chair that accessed the basement. Although if you walked over it, you wouldn't hear the echo of an empty room but instead the sound of someone walking on hardwood floor. There was no handle for this secret access point but instead a key that hooked in between the pieces of hardwood. Once going down a few stone stairs, you finally enter the dungeon.Along. He nodded to his imaginary friend, and I made another note on my paper. “You’re not writing my symptoms on that paper,” the man said, “you’re drawing me, with my shirt off, and a very generous bulge in my pants.” I started upright in my chair, and then slammed my notebook on the table, feeling my face flush with embarrassment. I was about to say something to explain myself, but the man cut me off. “You have three bottles of five-hundred-year old wine, a closet full of lingerie, and a hidden.