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“Call her,” I said.
Vivienne already had her phone out. Twenty minutes later there was a second knock, and Odette walked in like she owned the hotel.
She was small and dark and sharp-featured, with a short black bob, red lipstick and a leather jacket over a silk slip. Thirty-one, as promised. She kissed Vivienne on both cheeks, then on the mouth, then turned to look me up and down.
“So this is Graham,” she said, in an accent you could spread on toast. “He is handsome. You did not lie.”
I paid the second fee into a second envelope. My hands were shaking slightly. Odette noticed and put her own hand over mine.
“Rules are the same,” she said. “Condoms. Anyone says stop, we stop. Nobody is doing anything they do not want. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She shrugged off the jacket.
Then the two of them started kissing each other, right there in front of me, slow and deep, hands in each other’s hair, and Vivienne’s green dress slid off one shoulder and Odette pushed it the rest of the way, and I sat on the end of the bed with my mouth open.
Vivienne broke away and looked at me, lips wet, breathing hard.
“Well?” she said. “Are you joining in, or are you just going to watch?”