“Are . . . are we all going to lose our jobs, Madame?” the girl stammered.

“Why do you say that?”

“Some . . . of the girls say the company is going to be closed down,” Celine replied, nervously. “And we are all to be dismissed.”

Sophie stiffened. “The girls are wrong. Anybody who wants to work hard will still have a position here. But I do not want you to be the receptionist anymore.”

“I hope I have not offended you again, Madame.”

“It’s not that. I need an assistant. Somebody I can trust. Somebody who is not linked to the previous management.”

“Me?”

“You fit that description, don’t you?”

Celine’s hazel eyes rounded. “Certainement, Madame, I am not linked to management. I am not linked to anybody,” she said artlessly. “I only answer the phone.”

Sophie grinned. “Good. Then you are hired. The salary is twenty-two thousand euros.”

The young girl’s face creased in delight. “Oh, Madame! Thank you. I know computers . . . I can type . . .”

“You’ll need to come in very early. We start work at eight sharp. And you will not leave until six.”

“No problem, Madame . . . oh, thank you, thank you, Madame.”

“Your first job is to find me a new receptionist.”

“I know just the girl,” Celine said, confidently.

“Then as soon as she is installed, you will come up here.”

There was another knock on the door, and Judy Dean opened it.

“Sophie, hi,” she said. “I’ve arranged the meeting with the designers, like you asked. They’ll be here today at eleven. And all the PR staff.”

“Excellent.”

Sophie smiled at her friend. Then she noticed little Celine Bousset was also staring at Judy, with an expression she did not approve of; it was cold, a little contemptuous. She had a moment of unease. She hoped Celine was not one of those girls who hated to work for other women.

“Mlle Judy Dean is the new senior vice president in charge of our publicity, Celine,” Sophie said coolly. “She now runs one of the most important divisions in our company.”

“Yes, Madame,” Celine said, her eyes snapping back to Sophie’s at once.

“If Mlle Dean wants to be put through to me, or to see me, her calls take priority. And I expect you to render her every assistance. Is that clear?”

Judy smiled tightly.

“Perfectly clear, Madame,” Celine said meekly. “I will always be ready to assist you, Mlle Dean,” she said to Judy.

The American girl nodded; Sophie felt herself satisfied.

“Then I will see you shortly, Celine. You may go,” she said.

The younger girl got up and quickly excused herself from the room.

“Do you have a moment now?” Judy asked.

Sophie smiled at her. “You heard what I told my new assistant.”

“Thanks.” Judy came in and sat down in front of her. “Mind if I ask you some questions?”

Sophie leaned back in her seat. “Go right ahead.”