Page 98 of Under Her Protection

"Copy."

"Watch."

"Copy."

She went.

Colette, at the door of the anteroom, did not look up as Leo passed. Leo went down the corridor, past the lavatory with the black marble sink that Vivienne had stood at six weeks ago, and took the second lavatory on the right, which was smaller, three cubicles, one washbasin, oxblood walls, one sconce. She locked the end cubicle behind her. She sat down on the closed lid of the seat. She put her hands on her knees. She put her head in her hands for one count, four, and lifted it.

She breathed.

She did not cry. She was not, in this job, going to cry. She permitted herself a four-count, and then eight, and then sixteen, which was the extent of the breath work she was going to permit herself before she unlocked the cubicle door and went back down the corridor and stood behind Vivienne again.

She was having feelings for Vivienne. That much was clear. That much was complicated and she really wasn’t ready to process what it might mean when there was so much else going on.

Vivienne’s life was at risk and it was up to her to keep her safe.

The outer door of the lavatory opened.

Two voices came in.

Two pairs of heels on the oxblood tile, then stopping at the washbasin, then the small sound of a handbag being unclipped, then the small sound of a lipstick being pulled from a case.

"Oh," said the first voice, young, a French accent under a studied English. "That is a terrible colour on me at this hour."

"No, darling. It is divine. Do not second-guess."

"I look like a corpse."

"You look like a corpse who is about to have a glass of merlot at Colette's table."

Laughter.

"Your earring."

"Oh God."

Small clasp sound.

A pause.

"Have you seen her tonight?”

"Vivienne?”

"Yes."

"Mm."

"She looks radiant.”

"She looks radiant because I strongly suspect she is fucking her bodyguard.”

A second, smaller laugh.

Leo's hands, on her knees, inside the cubicle, went still.

"You mean it?”