The outside of the club was relatively professional -- honestly, the sign that declared it Impero looked more like the sort that a Lawyer would have to announce their firm. Inside was a woman at a receptionist's desk - the waiting area looked a little like the rooms in Moulin Rouge. The girl at the counter pushed her glasses up her nose and flashed the new arrival a smile.

"Are you Lady Heather's 9:30?" She flipped through her datebook on her computer and glanced up to Peter again, waiting for his name. If he gave it, she'd direct him to room #2-12, upstairs and to the left. Heather's office was tastefully decorated with antique bondage equipment, definitely not replicas and not cheap.

She sat at her large desk, papers in front of her, and looked up when Peter came in. "Peter Petrelli, I presume?" She trusted her receptionist.