Precision is not the same thing as coldness, and Samanta is the argument for it. She is 174 cm, slim, with dark brown hair kept straight past the shoulder blade, and brown eyes that stay steady while she works out what she thinks of you. Late twenties. Her clothes are exact rather than showy: a well cut jacket, a narrow skirt, a single dark colour head to foot, and a watch she actually looks at, because she is the sort of person who arrives at the minute agreed.
Composed is the first impression and magnetic is what happens about twenty minutes in, once she has decided the evening is worth her attention. She is not cold, she is simply not performing. Her English is fluent, and she is working through a fourth language largely out of stubbornness. The violin was a serious childhood and remains a private daily habit. Design hotels are the professional curiosity: she has opinions about lobbies, lighting and where a bar should sit.
Her Holborn evening starts at Scarfes Bar in the Rosewood, where there are bookshelves, a fire in winter and a pianist who is actually worth listening to. She takes the corner sofa if it is free, orders something classic, and is perfectly happy to sit for an hour before dinner is even discussed. Afterwards she likes the courtyard entrance on High Holborn at night, which she maintains is the most underrated arrival in London.
Mayfair is home, fifteen minutes west of Holborn at that time of evening. Settle the plan with booking before three in the afternoon and the evening will run exactly as written, to the minute.
Her home stage is Mayfair, and she travels from there to the venues this house covers. Her full listing sits with the rest of the company on the companions page.