Eve Sayre

Safe choices make dull stories. I've never believed a person has to choose just one life.

I spent years in classrooms and libraries, earned a master's degree in literature from the sort of university that always gets a nod of recognition, and built a life that looked respectable on paper. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was less interested in analyzing stories than in actually living one.

So here I am.

Teacher's pet gone rogue. A recovering perfectionist with excellent taste in hotels.

I'm a luxury companion for the intellectually restless. I've been told I carry myself with a disarming blend of refinement and mischief. One moment urbane and graceful, the next leaning in to laugh at an inappropriate joke. You could say I have a type. People who succeeded in the world they were supposed to want, yet still hunger for something beyond it.

I believe we all contain multitudes. Myself, I'm as comfortable discussing military history and modernist novels as I am disappearing into a candlelit suite in my favorite lingerie. I'm a deep thinker, but I crave moments where I turn off intellect and move to instinct. I'm endlessly curious about people. What's the subject you could talk about for hours if someone simply asked? What occupies the private corners of your mind?

Modern life demands so many strange performances from all of us. I'm fascinated by what can transpire between two strangers who decide, for a few hours, to let themselves be who they want.