The Dorton Mansion was really being put through hell that evening as pretty Pamela, oldest daughter to Michael Dorton at age 22, went around screaming orders at the maids, butlers, and even the kitchen staff. She wanted to make sure that dinner that night was going to be absolutely perfect for the company she had invited to dine with her and her family and would excuse no screw ups or even any potential for a screw up. "No, no, NO! I wanted the pure silver utensils! We can't have our guest eating like some second class family! Go and fetch the silver and don't you dare come back unless you have the right ones! I don't want to see a single stain on this white table cloth! Everything has to be perfect! If there is even one thing out of place, I will see to it that you are all FIRED!" The maids and servants that were in attendance quickly scattered at the threat, a pretty young woman with creamy pale skin, golden blond hair and shimmering blue eyes sighing in agitation at the staff. Pamela narrowed her eyes, the smokey blue eye-shadow making them appear sultry and seductive and ran her fingers through her blond locks. "Tonight...will be perfect," she muttered to herself, her eyes suddenly taking on a predatory shine at the thought of the handsome man that will be gracing her house with his presence shortly.