I saw her across the hotel lobby - a slightly-built, red-headed woman wearing a light sundress and a floppy-brimmed hat. I stood up and called out across hubbub: "Miss Cauchemar! Over here!"

She turned towards me, waved and hurried over. The crowd parted around her, like water around a boulder. It only took a minute for her to get to my table. "Hello." Her voice was like glass bells, and the freckles on her face danced as she spoke. "Call me Elle. It's short for Eleanor." I stood up to introduce myself and to pull out a chair for her to sit down. However, I was firmly but gently pushed back into my seat by a large hand that appeared as if out of nowhere. "This is Gwen," Elle explained. "Gwen is my friend."

Gwen was almost two metres of Nordic womanhood. She was wearing a set of biker's leathers that barely concealed her muscular frame. Long, blonde braids ran from the top of her head and over her shoulders to fall down her back. I nodded at her and tried to think of something to say. "Umm ... Hello Gwen?"

"Good day to you." Gwen had a formal way of speaking, and what sounded like a Welsh lilt to her voice. She stared at me for a moment, then relaxed.

"You have to forgive her," Elle said. "Gwen is very protective of me." She put an arm around the blonde giant's waist, barely reaching to the other side. "Now - what are you drinking?"

I lifted my glass. "Scotch. Would you - ?"

"I'm buying." Elle turned to her friend. "A double Whyte's with ice for him, an absinthe for me, and whatever you want."

"Yes my lady," Gwen rumbled. She paused to give me a warning glare, then pushed her way through the lobby crowd to the bar.

"My lady?" I asked.

Elle smiled. "Gwen insists on the proper formalities." She looked around the lobby and frowned, her nose wrinkling. "You could have picked somewhere more inspiring. This place - it's banal."

"Protocol. First meetings should always be in a public place with witnesses. Just in case."

"In case of what?" Elle looked at me innocently. "Don't worry. Gwen won't hurt you."

I got the feeling I was losing control of the conversation. "Yes. Well. Shall we get on with our business?"

"Of course." Elle smiled, and the world around seemed to light up. "Now, I'd like to start with some questions about your intentions and your background."

"Hang on!" I interrupted. Elle's smile fell. "I'm here to find a secretary - someone who can help me with writing my next book."

Elle giggled. Glass bells. "Silly mortal," she said. "I'm not going to be your secretary, but I might become your muse. That's why I'm here. Now, shall we talk?"