Camille Rowan did not rush first impressions.
She analysed them.
Gabriel Kane sat across from her in the private consultation area of The Ivory Crown Studio — a quieter corner framed by soft lighting and deliberate minimalism. No mirrors facing the client directly. She preferred conversation before reflection.
He sat straight, but not stiff. Hands relaxed on his knees. No restless movements. No attempt to fill silence.
Most men performed confidence.
He embodied restraint.
Camille studied him the way she studied potential collaborations — posture, cadence, eye contact, reaction time.
"You requested to see me specifically," she began evenly. "That suggests intention. What is it you're looking for, Mr Kane?"
His gaze held hers without challenge.
"Precision," he replied. "Consistency. Discretion."
Professional answers.
Safe answers.
She tilted her head slightly. "In grooming?"
"In service," he corrected. "I value environments that understand boundaries."
That caught her attention.
Across the city, Gabriel had built his empire on strategic evaluation. Now he felt what it was like to be assessed under similar scrutiny.
She was not impressed by his name.
Not intimidated by his presence.
Not overly warm.
Her pen rested against her tablet, though she had not written a single note.
"You're accustomed to priority treatment," she observed calmly.
"I'm accustomed to efficiency."
A faint pause.
"And if you don't receive it?"
"I look elsewhere."
Direct.
Camille nodded once. "We don't compete for clients here."
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes — approval perhaps.
She leaned back slightly, crossing one leg over the other. The movement was subtle but deliberate, revealing confidence rather than seduction.
Her braids rested over one shoulder today, framing her face in controlled elegance.
"You attended the gala," she said. "You could have introduced yourself there."
"I prefer quieter rooms."
Her lips curved faintly.
"Or controlled ones?"
Gabriel did not answer immediately.
She noticed that too.
Silence did not intimidate him.
Interesting.
Camille closed her tablet at last.
"We operate by appointment only. If you choose to book, you will be treated like every other client — no priority access, no special accommodation."
He nodded once. "That's acceptable."
She stood, signalling the end of the consultation.
Gabriel rose with her.
For a brief second, they were closer than the table had allowed.
No touching.
No overt flirtation.
Just proximity.
Camille held his gaze one heartbeat longer than necessary.
He did not look away.
She broke the moment first.
"My assistant will schedule you."
As he turned to leave, Gabriel realised something unexpected.
He had walked in intending to assess her.
Instead, he had been measured.
And for reasons he could not entirely explain, he wanted to pass.