Prologue

The house was as massive as it was ornate, with various nooks and crags around the perimeter of the roof, large brass knockers on the huge double doors, and a vine-encrusted gate that managed to contain a state of the art security system which didn't detract at all from the surrealism of the surroundings. A long drive through the hills would get you there, if you knew the way, but only an appropriate code would get you through this gate. The codes were all constantly changing, and most were issued on a one-use only basis, depending on who you were, and the nature of your business.

All of these things applied to the visitors to the strangely regal-looking house, however. There was another entrance, one which was far more pedestrian, in the rear of the home. Indeed, from this angle there was a simple parking lot which was accessed by a simple surface street. The lot was populated with a series of very plain-looking cars, all of which were nice without being extravagant, save one located directly in front of the door. This car shone with it's own self-importance, and the spaces on either side of it had naturally been left vacant, as noone would want to even mistakenly damage the Boss' car.

This entrance was a simple wooden door, with a slot for a keycard and a large peephole. Through the door, once access had been gained, there was a large circular room with three doors around it's perimeter. A small desk staffed by a large woman stood in the center, and there were free-standing billboards on either side, laying out the day's assignments. One billboard seemed to list a series of classes, with a corresponding room number. The classes ranged from things such as "Speech" and "Tea Service", which were scheduled for room "A", all the way to "Erotic Massage" and "Cunnilingus", in room "B". Though there were many classes listed, the schedule covered several months, which meant no more than one class a week at the most. A duty roster of sorts was listed on the other billboard, with simply a name, an address or room number, and a time. This board held a few appointments, but the majority of it was blank.

The door directly behind the desk, secretarial type, and billboards was different from the rest. The door was solidly built, with no window, and was painted Jet black. There was no handle on the outside, either, which allowed no entry except from within if it were shut. Through this door was where the Boss could be found, when she was in. This particular day found her through this door, with a visitor.

Genevieve Weathers was angry, and that was always a recipe for disaster. Her finely coiffed hair stood out dramatically against the crimson of her forehead, which was marred only by her eyebrows, which were arched to an impressive height as she regarded the young girl across the desk. This girl bore more than a passing resemblance to Genevieve, as well she should, being her only daughter. Mary Weathers returned the look her mother was giving her coolly, waiting to hear the response she knew had to come.

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