They had been talking for almost an hour when the door opened.
Neither of them had heard footsteps in the corridor.
Isabelle stood in the doorway in a silk robe with her hair loose and her expression arranged into something that looked like sleepy confusion but landed slightly wrong. Like someone who had prepared the expression before they walked in.
"I heard voices," she said. "I couldn't sleep."
Mr Grayson looked at her calmly.
"Come in then," he said.
Isabelle stepped into the room and looked at the documents spread across the coffee table. Her eyes moved over them quickly. Too quickly for someone who had just wandered in half asleep.
She sat down in the chair nearest the door.
"What are you working on?" she asked pleasantly.
"Business," Mr Grayson said simply.
A brief silence
