Mark was reviewing budget projections when the intercom buzzed. "Yes?" he asked, pressing the button, and Linda replied with "One of the women you wanted to see is here, sir."<br/><br/>"Ah. Send her in." He pushed the keyboard aside, hitting the lock key combination, then stood up from behind his desk and came around, extending his hand as if to shake hers.<br/><br/>It was her. As he'd hoped, she looked even better in person. That flawless skin had not been a trick of makeup or Photoshop, and neither had those eyes. Her aura showed nervousness, and that she was hiding something... and a reddish tinge of anger. Nothing he couldn't have guessed. Most of the girls who came in were carrying that combination of emotions.<br/><br/>"I'm Mark Anderson," he said, taking her hand in both of his, then raising hers to kiss her knuckles gently, with a slight bow. As he did, Benirel's dark power touched her, working to stir whatever sense of wickedness she had within her. His accent was English, hair dark blonde, eyes green, and smile warm. "I'm the executive producer, and also casting director. It's a small company, we all wear multiple hats."<br/><br/>He gestured to the couch and moved toward a small shelf that was set up with snacks and drinks. "Would you like some tea or coffee, Miss...?"<br/><br/>(OOC: Emotion Control 7, Will DC 17. 1st degree: Impaired, 2nd: Disabled, 3rd: Incapacitated; cumulative)