Clementine

Clementine brings the right dress for the right lobby, talk that could carry a dinner, and an Oud-Zuid calm that stays with her through every hour she books.

Name a grand hotel on the park and Clementine has crossed its lobby looking like she belonged on the guest list. Elegance is her medium, not stiffness, but the relaxed kind that puts everyone else at ease by example, and many of her bookings open socially, with an aperitif and a dinner somewhere near the park, before the evening moves on to the room at the same easy pace. She is twenty-eight, keeps her citrus name defiantly, and has the museum quarter's calm in her manner. Her sensual hour is impeccable; her dinner-date evenings are the stuff of repeat bookings. French for charm, English for wit. She is exactly as advertised, which may be the rarest quality of all.

Clementine decides which bookings she takes and may decline any of them; she sets the limits for what a session includes, says what they are, and may end a visit at any point, as the terms set out.