At the Bar Androgynous wasn't generally something that appealed to Rob York; his preference was towards curvy, small, undeniably girlish women. Approachable girls who would conceivably live next door to someone. Maybe not him, given the acreage of his parents' estate home, but someone he could conceivably know. Not tall, statuesque blondes who stepped from the pages of a centerfold, tattooed gutter trash, demonic entities, or women of color.
Though he did have to admit that he was glad to see that the Door had improved its selection. At least there was a choice, now.
"I am," he answered, turning to view the blonde directly, and pleased to see that she was keeping distance between them. Four feet was enough. Four feet was good. She was respecting his bubble, rather than climbing into his lap. And at least her outfit covered her, which was more than he could say for -- God, was that Ricky skulking in the back? Yes, yes. Now that she was coming closer, he could see that it was. When she winked at him from behind Saint, he couldn't help scowling at her in disapproval. Even for a brothel, the fringe seemed a bit much. Honestly.
"I requested to see Susanna," he complained, with a sigh. To be honest it was more of a resigned whine, and it sounded petulant when it was delivered to multiple women at once. Delivered to Ricky or the host, he could manage to make it sound like a legitimate complain, but he regretted bringing it up to the blonde. All angelic flesh and sharp little teeth. Her eyes weren't without intelligence, either, making her dangerous. Rob had always considered Ricky far enough below him in status to not pose much of a threat... but he knew nothing at all about the blonde.
He cleared his throat, glancing uncomfortably over his shoulder to see if Eli was grinning somewhere close by, and caught sight of the colored girl. Another stranger.
Lovely. He was surrounded. Well, he had told the host that he was willing to make a selection. It had just been so long since there'd been an actual selection that he really hadn't been expecting it. So be it. Rob cleared his throat again and straightened on his bar stool, raising his voice as if addressing a staff meeting. "But seeing that she isn't here, my preferences are few." He narrowed his eyes somewhat loftily at Ricky. Maybe if there were other girls working here again, that meant he could be picky -- truly picky -- again. "I can pay generously for two hours, and I'll be taking a full pint. I prefer human blood, clean, discreet."
There wasn't much of a reason for discretion, beyond the fact that blood was being given at all, in which case it went without saying. There was no pale line around his ring finger. He'd never been married, and his job wouldn't be threatened if word got out that he'd patronized a legal brothel. It just sounded like the right word to use. Something that girls like Ricky wouldn't be capable of.