Winter our discontent (RP)

Persephone considers her options. Shrugging, she decides to try another approach. "Oh that’s OK. We don’t need to discuss it. If you could just send it to me, that’d be fine. Email OK?" she rattles off an easy-to-remember email address, so he can send it even if he doesn’t write it down.

When asked for a demon’s name, however, she hesitates.

"Oh no, this one is not for hiking!" she tried to keep the rebuke from her voice. God, what would he do without her? "This is for the meet-and-greet. Or having a late glass of whisky with the boys later in the afternoon. You walk into the countryside in a blazer like that, and they won’t think you clever, but a fool who doesn’t appreciate what he’s wearing."

She stepped back, and gave him one more look over with clear satisfaction "Don’t worry. We’ll pick up something stylish that is fit for the outdoors in a more sensible place. Somewhere where they don’t charge a hundred quid just for the stitching"

Without waiting, she moved to the next outfit she selected for him, plucking it off the rack and handing it over to him. She spent the next half hour playing dress up with him, choosing, adjusting, touching him lightly when she needed to.

She knew better than to push her luck. Thirty minutes was generous by Henry’s standards, and she knew that his patience wouldn’t hold for much longer.

"All right. I think you’ve seen them all. What’s your favorite?"
She stepped aside and waited for him to have the final say. He always knew what he wanted.
She gave him a little time to answer, and for the assistants to pack everything for them, before her expression changed to one of mischief:

"Now. Do you want to see what I had my eye on?"

"Perfect" her lips curled slightly in a teasing smile "I’ll be right back"

Grabbing the first of the dresses, she disappeared into the changing room and shut the door behind her. She took her time stripping out of her clothes, and even more time standing in front of the mirror, running a hand down her side, adjusting a strand of hair, turning slightly at the hip as she admired her reflection.

Henry used to make her wait all the time. It wouldn’t hurt him to wait on her for a change.

Finally, she slipped on the dress - an emerald-green turtleneck midi dress with long sleeves. No cleavage, long enough to extend all the way down to her knees. But it fit her body just perfectly, hugging all the curves and accentuating her figure. She let out small sigh of satisfaction, standing for a moment more staring at the mirror.

That dress looked good. She could never afford to buy it on David’s salary, but it would hardly make a dent in Henry’s. And really, he wants to buy it. He wants to feel generous, like a provider. She would be doing him a favor letting him indulge her.

When she finally opens the door and steps out she gives him a small, playful smile, before turning sideways so he can appreciate the profile as well "So...what do you think?"

Realizing this guy is mostly useless, Persephone sighs audibly. She realizes she doesn’t actually know her patron’s name, and indeed has only ever heard them referred to ONCE as anything other than ‘your patron’ and similar phrases.

Once, however, Alessandra, the woman who closed her deal, referred to The Whispering One in a way that suggested some call their patron that. So, unsure of what to do next, Persephone says, "I need everything you have on The Whispering One."