But we have five more weeks together, and Camille is shifting on my lap, trying to pull me on top of her, and when she does that, when she tugs at my hands with such intention, the fear evaporates as if it never existed in the first place, as though this is our normal, this is the house we live in full-time together, and this is a regular afternoon in the lives of Zoya Das and Camille Rousseau.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Today’s the day,” Camille whispers in my ear. I’ve barely woken up, but the light in the room is already bright and the birds outside are singing their morning song.

“The day for what?” My brain isn’t fully working yet. We’ve been at the house in Provence for two days and arriving here seemed to have flipped a switch in Camille’s brain. The one that puts her in unmistakable holiday mood, and makes her want to double her wine intake at dinner.

She reaches for her phone on the night stand and shows it to me. It’s a text message in French, that says: Nous sommes arrivés. Diner ce soir?

“We have a dinner tonight?” I ask.

Camille looks at me, her face propped onto an upturned palm. “While I’m flattered that regular sex with me would make you forget about things you previously couldn’t stop talking about, I am a little worried now.”

I push myself up a bit more. “What are you talking about?”

“Have another look. See who the message is from.”

I take the phone out of her hand and scan the screen for clues. “It says Steph M,” I say. Then the penny drops. “Stéphanie Mathis?” Excitement quickly takes over. “Dominique Laroche’s partner?”

“That’s right.” Camille takes the phone back from me. “What should I reply? Shall I say that you don’t seem to have use of all your faculties today? That all the sex has gone to your head and left you indisposed to meet up with them?”

“Very funny.” I push myself up into a sitting position. I can’t believe this is actually going to happen.

I watch Camille type into her phone while a smug smile widens on her lips. “Voilà.” She puts her phone away and looks at me. “We’ll have to go to theirs. It’s a security thing.”

“We’ll have to go shopping. I have nothing to wear.”

Camille shakes her head. “You have plenty to wear.”

I ignore her and prattle on. “And I need to do some research.”

“Chérie.” Camille reaches for my hand. “This is not work. It’s not an interview. Dominique and Steph are on holiday. They are here to relax. Let’s try and do the same.”

“You’re going to have to do something to relax me then.”