I stopped at the security booth.
The guard looked me over.
"Who you here to see?"
"Mr. Millhouse, " I said, showing him my camera gear. "I'm here to see Mr. Millhouse."
He looked down a sheet of paper.
"Mr. Shamus?"
"Yes."
The guard pulled out a clipboard.
"Sign here," the guard said. "Take the third elevator. That's a private express to Mr. Millhouse's offices."
"Thanks."
"Good luck."
The elevator opened up and I stepped into the most beautiful offices I'd ever seen.
Green marble floors, rich oak paneling and what looked like original Renoir's on the walls.
Richard Millhouse stood in front of some double doors. He was wearing a charcoal-grey pin stripe suit, a bright red tie and a crisp white shirt.
He walked up to me and shook my hand.
"I like a man who's punctual," he said, as we went into his office. "It shows respect of self, and others."
"Thank you, Mr. Millhouse."
"Call me Richard."
His office had more art work on the walls and rows and rows of bookshelves, filled with law texts.
"I'd like you to start work for me tonight."
"Is a client stopping by?"
He touched my shoulder.
"No," he said. "I want you to take some 'special' photos of me. It's for my lover's birthday. I'll pay you for the session in cash. What do you say?"
I started to set up my gear.
"Good lad."
Richard wanted pictures of him in various states of undress.
From fully clothed, sitting at his desk to naked, laying on top of it.
For an older man, he kept himself in great shape.
I was putting away my stuff, while Richard finished dressing.
"I want to see the proofs in three days," he said, straightening his tie. "If they're what I'm looking for, you'll have the job."
He handed me $500.00.
