“Of course not, Mademoiselle,” said Marie, as complacent as Judy about the hypocrisy. She withdrew, and Judy spun her chair to face her window. Her heart was thumping in her chest. What could it mean?

And more importantly, how could she use it?

Well, fortune favours the brave. Her daddy had always said that, back in Oklahoma, and Judy had believed it—enough to travel to New York City, and then take a job in Paris. Trust in that motto, she thought, was why she was wearing Chanel right now, instead of worn-out duds in some worn-out farm town.

She stood up. She was going upstairs.

The elevator discharged her a few moments later. Judy strode out. The employees in their cubicles all had their heads down and were tapping at keyboards or shuffling papers in an attempt not to be noticed. But they were worker bees. Judy was not.

She heard the rage long before she got to Lazard’s office. Sophie, despite Marie’s report, was not shouting. Judy could hear her tones, low and clear. Gregoire was doing the shouting, and he was very loud indeed.

Judy thought, I will knock on the door and attempt to make peace. They will both be grateful. . . .

But as she got within a few steps of Gregoire’s door, it was wrenched open. Judy halted, shrank back. Sophie was standing by the window, rigid and pale; Judy noted her knuckles were white as she gripped the top of Gregoire’s chair. Gregoire himself stormed out, his fair skin flushed with anger, his eyes blazing.

He turned round towards Sophie and said, in rapid-fire French “You will be hearing from my lawyers.”

Sophie Massot inclined her head minutely; then the grey eyes were trained on Judy, who had flinched away from the towering anger of her boss.

“Judy, good to see you,” Sophie said coolly. “Come in, please.”

Lazard looked down, as though noticing Judy for the first time. He looked back to Sophie and cackled. “Suka,” he said. “Very good—the two friends.”

“I am quite prepared to call security,” Sophie told him calmly. “Leave now, Monsieur, your services are no longer required.”

“We’ll see,” Lazard responded. But he turned on his heel, stiffly, and marched to the stairway.

The worker pool watched him go in total silence.

“Come in to . . . my office, please, Judy, and shut the door,” Sophie Massot said calmly.

Judy shivered a little; had she found out? But there was nothing for it except to do as she was told. She lifted her chin and walked boldly into the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

As soon as the door shut, Sophie Massot said, in a newly shaky voice, “Dear Judy, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Then she burst into tears.