When it came to entertaining, Jenny was no slouch. She kept track of her appointments, she was never late, always waiting, and there was never a hair out of place. She was never dressed anything but elegant; a habit she'd unconsciously adopted from Ginnifer ages ago. Not that it particularly mattered what she wore with her first client of the night.
She'd been entertaining to earn her keep long enough to know the subtle ins and outs of what she was doing; catering to each individual, making them feel like the center of the universe, even if just for their brief meeting. She was good at it. Those with mommy issues in particular seemed to favor her. She had that vibe that drew them in. It hadn't always been that way, she'd been a clumsy and sometimes frightened donor, once. But she was the taker now, and she was methodical about her work. She enjoyed it, relished it.
It probably helped that her work, most of the time, was what kept her fed as well as in business. But there was more to it than that. She liked being in control, and she took pride in what she did. It wasn't the life that she had wanted, but it was what she had, and what she was forced to work with. For better or worse, she cared about her clients. In the most clinical sense. Cared about keeping track of what they liked, what they didn't, what they expected from her, what she was willing to give them. She loved nothing, if not the facts, and each client came with their own set.
Dahlia, for example, did not want to be coddled. That was a fact Jenny had learned early.
The brunette was already an acquired taste and a rush of her own, with all of the cocaine often coursing through her, and she hated that damn dog but she liked Dahlia. She'd wonder, at first, if maybe it had been the second-hand consumption of the drugs that made her feel that way, but that wasn't the case. Dahlia was one of her favorites, and she came with unwritten rules like anyone else. She paid good money to be there. She expected things. She didn't want Jenny to handle her gently, and Jenny didn't. She was even rougher with her than she meant to be sometimes. It didn't always involve sex, but often it did.
Mostly, it involved draining the blind girl within an inch of her delicious life.
She was seemingly always urging the vampire to keep going, every session together. One night, Jenny had almost killed her because it had been so hard to stop, but she did. She hadn't said a word about the slip to anyone after the fact. Jenny didn't make mistakes, and she hadn't made one that day either, so there was no reason to bring it up. She'd been more careful ever since.
Tonight, she had made her way swiftly from the kitchen to the room that she always met Dahlia in, and began waiting. It wasn't her room downstairs, which was by Ginnifer's room and where Dr. O'Neill did his work, but it had been her room a long time ago, and she still used it often. She always used it with Dahlia, so the other woman could find the way. Number '8' with the old armoire.
Sometimes she wanted to stuff the dog in the fucking armoire just so she'd stop growling at her the whole time..