Sam met her in his office, with a good view of the club below through a one-way window. "You wanted to talk to me, Callie?" Again he met her eyes, and even while he looked her over he seemed to study the costume, judge it's effect, not think about what the body could do in bed with him. His desk hid his legs, his entire lower half, and looked quite sturdy, even with some old fashioned paper on the surface most was free, smooth black plastic.