Kat Dee settles into a tan velvet sofa with a laptop balanced across her lap, the picture of a wickedly competent personal assistant in dark-rimmed glasses and a charcoal grey wrap dress. Her long caramel hair spills over the striped trim of the collar, and her curvaceous legs cross in sheer nude tights that glow against the moody wall behind her. Towering black platform ankle boots finish the line of a commanding, full-bosomed silhouette, while her glossy lips curve around a slow, knowing smile that suggests she has read every email before you have even sent it.

The wrap dress loosens at her shoulder and slides down one arm, baring a luscious curve of buxom cleavage barely held by a black and cream lace bra. Kat turns to show off the hourglass sweep from waist to hip, peeling the dress over her peachy rear until only the tiny black shorts remain against her glowing, sun-kissed skin. She perches above the laptop on hands and knees, the screen lighting her face from below, her arresting figure caught between mischief and absolute control. She settles the glasses back on her nose, one finger hooked at the frame, her dewy collarbone catching the low light, and it is very clear who is doing the hiring here.