Vivienne's POV
I arrived at Lumière at seven forty three.
Earlier than usual. Not because the day required it but because my apartment had stopped being a place where productive thinking was possible somewhere around two in the morning and the office at least had the advantage of providing legitimate things to direct my attention toward while my mind did what it had apparently decided it was going to do regardless of what I preferred.
My assistant arrived at eight thirty and found me already three items into the morning agenda and on my second coffee and arranged her expression into the careful neutrality she deployed when she had observations she had decided were outside her professional remit to share.
"Good morning," she said.
"The Harrington contracts first," I said. "Then the cre
