Most concierges wait to be told. We corrected that before the millennium turned. A request, to us, is not an instruction — it is a confession, arriving late, of something we had already prepared. There is no catalogue, no menu, no "range of services," because each would imply a boundary, and we recognize none.
Our study of a Member begins the moment we accept them, and it does not stop. So when at last you name a desire, you find it already warm, already yours — as though you had only just remembered owning it. How this is accomplished is the one thing we will never tell you. It is, in the strictest sense, the entire service.