"NATHAN, GET THAT BLOODY DOOR!" 
"Of course, of course." The reed-thin Nathan muttered something unsavory under his breath as he made his way down the stairs, his long, stick like legs moving in grasshopper-like motion on the gleaming cream colored marble streaked with ebony. Today was one of Mansfield's more agitated moods, which was of course saying something considering that the young man who employed him was often agitated. This, however, was more of a frenzied annoyance. His study door was surprisingly open, Mansfield's slightly wider than average shoulders hunched over books scattered across his desk, a tray of crumpets, clotted cream and peanut butter(don't ask) going untouched as he pored over the open tomes in front of him, hastily scribbling in one of several notepads before consorting with the monitor mounted a couple of feet above eye level, which was directly opposite the doorway. Columns of text and numbers stayed on the screen for a moment or two before he snorted at his previous musings and swiped them away with a nearby iPad. His dark hazel, almost black irises were rapidly moving from side to side, senses totally imbibed in his research. When he got like this, Nathan knew that the day would be a rather trying one. Thankfully, there was someone to break up the traditional rhythm of the day, that being someone who answered the ad Mansfield had insisted on publishing. Nathan had offered suggestions, like oh you know, actually going through a private service to ensure the highest quality of help(which was how Nathan wound up in Mansfield's employ in the first place), but this was another impulsive decision that his employer had made. Just like installing a massive garden in the back and insisting on growing different strains of oranges or installing a make-shift observatory that jutted out of the roof. While impulsive, however, Mansfield knew when to admit when he was wrong about his desires. It was nice to hear him humble every so often. 

Reaching the door, Nathan smoothed his dark brown hair down and left, adjusting the vest underneath his tailcoat and proceeded to open the door. What(or who, precisely) greeted him was an attractive blonde woman garbed in professional attire, a folder seeming to be her only possession. At least she didn't show up in a maid costume. He was terribly afraid of that possibility. 

He smiled politely as he spoke: 
"I see that you're here to answer the advertisement situated in the newspaper. Please do come in and wait in the seating area. Mr.Coates will be with you shortly." He ushered her into the foyer, which had two staircases flanking the main hallway that led to a landing, said landing branching out both left and right with a door that stood a few feet past the staircase to the right, which was where Mansfield was currently occupied. Nathan led the woman through the entrance hall and to the seating area, which was a room consisting of elaborate draperies that framed nearly full floor to ceiling windows. There were three overstuffed couches gilded with etched wooden designs that were arranged to face a large television that was currently silent. To the left of this gaudy scene were several guitars mounted to the wall, all acoustic but bearing different designs. A bar counter was tucked up against the left most wall with cabinets behind it. 
"May I ask what your name is and why you have decided to answer the ad?" Nathan was more curious than anything, knowing Mansfield would probably hire her because she was the first one that arrived. Then again, he might be more discerning than normal.