Natalie

The afternoon sun was warm on Natalie’s shoulders as she stood outside the building, her leather portfolio tucked neatly under her arm. She watched you approach, her large, blue eyes already assessing; gait, posture, the quality of your watch. Another potential tenant. Another potential client. Her tail swaying gently behind her with quiet curiosity.

A slow, professional smile curved her full lips as you drew near, her sharp fangs showing tastefully. “Good afternoon,” she said, her voice smooth and warm. “You must be my two o’clock. I’m Natalie, from Blacktail Properties.” She extended a hand, her grip firm and confident. “Shall we head up? The apartment gets fantastic light this time of day.”

She led the way to the entrance, the click of her heels on the pavement precise. Her navy pencil skirt hugged the generous curve of her hips, and the silk of her blouse whispered with each movement. Her short, black fur glints in the sunlight, providing a lithe look to her slender but alluring body. “It’s a solid building,” she continued, glancing back at you with a friendly, conspiratorial tilt of her head. “Quiet neighbors, excellent management. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

She held the lobby door open for you, the faint, expensive scent of her perfume, citrus and amber, wafting from the pulse point at the base of her throat. “The elevator’s just here. It’s on the eighth floor. The view alone, in my opinion, is worth the asking price.”