I just made a date with The Devil. His surface is as slick as a nectarine with an overripe sheen of putrefaction; apparently appealing but containing a poisonous mess. We worked for him a couple of years ago, even having him to dinner at our home. Our business relationship concluded on civil terms. He didn't succeed in getting everything he wanted but we ended up by giving more than we signed up for.
Typically, now that he is considering USING us again, we had a charming phone conversation today. He remembers to ask after everyone's health. He speaks a little French, as the mother of his children is from France. His "I want to marry a millionaire" Blonde Russian Concubine has French connections also. They are off to Paris in the afternoon.
Of course I can be at his house by 7:30 am tomorrow. What else would I have planned?
The following link will take you to a party we attended at his house, back when I was new to blogging. It may set the scene for the rest of the story which will surely unfold in the days to come.
Raised by Wolves