What’s the biggest turn-on that has nothing to do with looks?

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The interview was to be held in the private office of the MD on the top floor of the building, and one of the security guards escorted her to the lift. "Good luck miss," he said "I'm sure you'll do well." Chloe smiled, as the lift doors closed smoothly.

Up on the tenth floor, she was greeted by John, Mr Hitchin's assistant. "Welcome to Booths," he said "Please follow me."

She walked behind John along a corridor with displays of wealth all around. Glamorous paintings, wood panelling and a carpet so thick it made Chloe want to sink her bare feet into it.

John knocked gently on the heavy door to what was the office, and pushed it open gently. Inside, behind an enormous mahogany desk sat Mr Hitchin himself. He stood up as Chloe entered the room. "Thank you John," he said "I'll take it from here".

Hitchin was well groomed, Chloe thought. Mid forties maybe, dark hair, good teeth and a large, imposing frame. She could see why poor, weedy looking John looked intimidated.

She took a seat on the other side of the desk, as he poured her, oddly, not tea or coffee, but a glass of champagne.

"We like to do things our way at Booths," he said as he handed it to her "Do you mind?"

"No sir," Chloe responded "At least I won't have to worry about nerves."

He smiled at her, and she noticed his eyes lingering on her full breasts spilling out of her shirt.

"Well, Chloe, now I don't believe in stupid interview questions -- I'd prefer to see you in action" he said, smiling. "So the first part of this interview will be dictation. Open up the laptop just there and we'll get started."

She did as he said, and opened up the small laptop (personalised with Booths' logo) as he began to read from a small book he held out in front of him. She typed quickly, her delicate, French manicured fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard.