Danielle, 29, composed company in Oud-Zuid

Danielle lives in Oud-Zuid, the wide, well-signed end of Amsterdam where the streets are quiet by ten and the hotels are the kind with a doorman who has seen everything and mentions none of it. It suits her. She is a fifteen minute ride from the canal ring, a clear twenty from the Zuidas towers, and a direct run to Schiphol with no bridges to argue with.

At 29 she is sophisticated in the ordinary sense of the word, meaning she has stopped needing to prove anything. The file reads 170 centimetres, curvy, hair long, straight and black, eyes brown, English. Moody after-dark sophistication: her words for her own look, and the three published frames hold to it, one under studio light and two in a red-lit lounge with a leather sofa. Calm is the quality guests mention afterwards, and magnetic is the one they cannot quite account for.

Classic cinema is the deep interest, the pre-1970 kind, watched properly rather than left running. Patricia shares that appetite and the two of them would be unbearable in a repertory theatre together. Poetry is the private habit, rarely raised unless somebody asks. Museums are the daylight option: give Danielle a free afternoon in a crowded itinerary and she will spend it well, then talk about it over dinner without turning it into a lecture. She suits the late booking, the second evening of a long trip, the dinner that begins after a delayed arrival when the last thing you want is somebody energetic. Her pace is unhurried and she never fills a pause just to fill it. Company from €180 per hour, and the rates page sets out how the longer evenings are quoted and confirmed in advance.