"So, you're my new client?" Derek asked, his new accent more distinct now. He sounded Eastern European, though a discerning ear could pinpoint Derek's new country of origin as being Romania.
"Er... what?" The man in the bow tie asked.
"Come now, there's no need to be alarmed. Step inside, I'll get you something to drink."
The man in the bow tie, whose name was Nathan Brown, stepped inside, as Derek sauntered deeper inside the house.
"What do you want? Soda, juice, milk? Are you even old enough to drink alcohol?" he called.
"Just water, please," Nathan said. He glanced down, realizing that his business suit had disappeared. In its place was a plain blouse and skirt, which still looked quite out of place on the middle aged man.
Before Nathan could properly react to this revelation, Derek returned, water in hand. "Alright, so I'll have you know I'm the best agent in town, but as fair warning I've spent the past few years dealing with musicians. Singers, bands, you know the sort. It's been a long while since I had one of your trade under my wing. Come, sit down, there's now pressure, let's have a little chat.
Nathan allowed Derek to lead him to a few chairs in the living room, where he sat down across from him. As Derek took his seat, the final changes of his assimilation took place. His chest finished developing a pair of C cup breasts, and his gentiles inverted into their feminine counterparts.
"So," Daria Leonte Wilson said. "Tell me about yourself, Nathan."
