Page 64 of Ruthless Sin
Sleep, Nico.
I close my eyes.
14
NICO
The bell over the door announces us before I have it open.
Marguerite is already in the doorway.
Reading glasses on a chain, white hair pinned, and she catches my elbow with her hand before I’m fully through.
“Nico. Tu es en retard. Comme toujours.”
You’re late. As always.
“Bonjour, Marguerite.”
“Bonjour,mon cœur.Entre.Entre.”
Good morning, my heart. Come in. Come in.
Her hand moves from my elbow to her chest in the small theatrical gesture she’s been making since I was a child.
She looks past me.
Mila is on the sidewalk behind me, the dark green sweater, flat shoes, her hair down and her hands at her sides.
Marguerite’s voice softens.
“Ma chère.” My dear. “You must be Mila.Enchantée. Come in.”
Mila does not respond. She just walks in, and I don’t know if that’s compliance or something closer to survival instinct. Don’t make noise, don’t draw attention, get through the door.
“Drink that. I will be twenty minutes with her, maybe thirty.” She picks up the second coffee cup and sets it on the side table where Mila was standing. “When she comes out, you tell her she looks beautiful. You say it like you mean it, not like a man reading from a card.Compris?”
Understood?
“Compris,” I say.
“Bon.”
Good.
She turns to Mila. Her voice drops.
“Six dresses on the rack,ma chère. I have eyes. I saw you on the sidewalk and I already know which one. You have the shoulders and the waist and Nico is going to have a very long afternoon.”
Mila does not answer.
Marguerite nods as if she has.
“This way.”
She takes Mila behind the curtain.
The curtain closes.
