“Of course. I’ve been working with the world’s greatest shoe designer for some years now.”

Genevieve took up her lighter and lit both cigarettes. “I didn’t think it was the shoes you cared about.”

“Didn’t you?” Olga raised one arched eyebrow and drew on her cigarette, bursting into a coughing fit as soon as she’d taken a drag.

“No.” Genevieve let the word hang in the air between them, and for a moment they were both silent.

“You were with Paolo yesterday, weren’t you?” Olga said eventually. “He sent me home early. It was because of you, I know it.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“What is this smooth stuff?” She was touching the inside of the couch. “It’s not wood, is it?”

“It’s tortoiseshell.” For a horrible moment, Genevieve thought she might grind her lit cigarette against the couch frame. There was always an undercurrent to this woman, and never more so than today. But then Olga tapped ash sedately into the ashtray, and the moment passed.

“So are you going to show me your shoe collection? I hear you have a whole room full of shoes.”

“It’s not open to the public,” said Genevieve curtly. “I wish you’d get to the point.”

“All right. You are bad for Paolo. I want you out of his life.”

Genevieve folded her arms defensively. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I want you to promise me that you’ll stay away from him. For good.”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t do that. I can’t do that.”

A hateful look. She seemed to be building up to something. “This couch is not comfortable. That lamp is not bright. Your world is full of stupid, useless, expensive things.” She hit the cushion with her fist. “Stay away from Paolo!”

“No.”

And now she did it. She stubbed out that cigarette of hers against the gleaming tortoiseshell couch frame and dropped the butt in the tray. “I have known him a long time, Mrs. Shelby King. I have seen him with many women. He will flick you away”—she reached across the space between them and flicked her thumb and forefinger—“like you are an insect. And if he doesn’t, I will.”

Genevieve pushed Olga’s outstretched arm away and got to her feet, her anger rising. “Who the hell do you think you are, threatening me in my own home! Damaging my property! I’ve been making an effort with you for Paolo’s sake. Because he cares about you. But frankly, you’re nothing but a pain and I shall tell him exactly how you’ve treated me.”

“You do that.” Olga stood up and brushed invisible dust off her dress.