Well, that answered that question.

‘If you saw a celebrity on the street or at a restaurant would you ask them for a selfie?’

I sat back in my chair, horrified. ‘Oh my god, absolutely not.’

I couldn’t even tap a woman on the shoulder to say her tag was showing without breaking out in a rash.

‘Let’s say your employer asked you to do something you weren’t comfortable with,’ Sarah said with careful diplomacy. ‘How would you feel about that?’

I was definitely being recruited as a spy. Time to cue up some YouTube poker tutorials and crack out the factor 50 sunscreen.

‘It would depend,’ I replied slowly, visions of me racing a speedboat through the Venice canals and immediately crashing into a gondola roaring through my head. ‘As long as it wasn’t illegal and didn’t put anyone in danger, I’d deal with it.’

‘What if it was something you found,’ she waved one hand around in the air as she searched for the right word. ‘Distasteful?’

‘It’s not my job to decide what is and isn’t distasteful, it’s my job to do my job,’ I replied, thinking back to the time my first boss insisted I sign his wife up to Weight Watchers a month after she gave birth, ‘as a laugh’. ‘An assistant is there to assist, to make their client’s job, their life, easier. That’s what I’m good at.’ I lifted my chin and looked her in the eye. It felt as though there should be a light wind blowing my hair back, a spotlight on my face, and a golden eagle swooping into frame. ‘I’m a great assistant because I know that what I want and what I think doesn’t matter. All that counts is making sure the client’s goals are met.’

‘And what if someone offered you money in exchange for information, or access.’ She pressed her lips together so tightly, they all but disappeared. ‘Or photos.’

Sarah pinned me to my chair with her gaze and I tried to imagine what kind of idiot might have met this woman and actively decided to piss her off.

‘No,’ I replied, utterly serious. ‘That’s terrible. I would never do something like that in professional circumstances or otherwise.’

Sarah Pierce leaned back in her chair, the corners of her mouth inching upwards into an almost smile until she very nearly looked happy.

‘And the strange thing is, I actually believe you,’ she said, tenting her fingers in front of her. ‘One last question. What, to you, defines a good assistant?’

At last, I thought happily, an easy one.