“Hey Tom,” she drawled. “A drink would be perfect. It’s like you read my mind, baby.” Judy strutted across the room towards him. “It’s been a rough day. I can’t stand those bastards.” She shook her head to display her fluffy hair to best advantage; the salon made it look like a Timotei commercial.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He sounded a little nervous, and a jolt of electricity shot through her. Was he about to pop the question? “What will you have?”

“No alcohol; I’ll just take some juice.” She stuck out the tip of her tongue and licked her lips.

He silently poured out a tumblerful of the fresh orange juice; it came from the château’s own orangerie and it was utterly perfect. Judy took the tumbler gratefully, and chinked it against his glass of whisky.

“A toast,” she announced, “to—”

“Judy. Wait.” Tom glanced at the door. “Is that closed?”

“Absolutely.” She winked. “We’re private here. Why, did you want to christen the room? I think we’ve had sex most everywhere else . . .”

Tom swallowed. “Yes—and it was wonderful. I—I’ve got something to say to you, though.”

Oh shit. It’s going to happen.

Judy couldn’t stop the smile, although she tried to.

“Go on, Tom,” she said. “Go on, honey.”

“Judy—you’re a wonderful person,” Tom said. “And we’ve had a lot of fun together. And—I’m fond of you.” The last wasn’t strictly true anymore, but it was a white lie. “But this relationship isn’t going anywhere. I think for both our sakes that we should break up. You’ll need to move out, so if you want, I can have the staff pack your cases.” He ploughed on. “It just wouldn’t be fair to waste your time.”

Judy was staring at him with a rage he had not thought possible.

“I’m sorry,” he finished lamely.

She threw the juice in his face. It splashed all over Tom’s suit, ruining it; his eyes stung.

“You fucking bastard,” Judy said. “Just like your father.”

“Leave my father out of this,” he said coldly.

Judy laughed, high-pitched and manic.

“So that’s it?” she demanded. “That’s what I get? Six months of being screwed by an inferior little prick, then thank you and goodbye? Packed out of the house, with nothing to show for it. . . .”

“Not all love affairs end in marriage. You knew that.”

At least he hadn’t assumed she meant a payoff. But fuck him, Judy thought, infuriated.

“I knew I trusted you. I knew you asked me to move here. I thought that meant something.”

“It meant I wanted your company.”

“Oh, sure.” She laughed bitterly. “You wanted a convenience. A girl at hand. And now that you think you don’t need me, I’m out. On the trash heap.”

“Let’s be adult about this, Judy.”