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“Great,” Francine said out loud when Alex closed the door on her.

Raising her hand and giving a gentle cough for attention, Morgan asked, “Um, where should I go?”

Francine threw up her hands. “Apparently, anywhere you like.” She sighed. “Sorry, it’s been a busy day, and it doesn’t help when she’s being so obstreperous.“

“Is she usually so—”

“Disorganised? Unbothered? Wandering off? Yes, sometimes, which is why I run a tight ship. Order is what she needs at times like this. Order and focus.”

Morgan nodded.

“She seems pretty relaxed to me,” Morgan offered, reiterating, “In my medical opinion, of course. That’s what we want, right? Less stress, less chance of a panic attack.”And I intend to do everything I can to make sure she stays relaxed, thought Morgan with a wry smile. She wondered what Francinewould do if she knew the truth, if she knew that the moment they were alone they’d be naked and in each other’s arms. That she would do anything Alex demanded of her.

“You’re right. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Knocking on the dressing room door, Morgan waited until she was told to come in. The door swung open and a young woman’s smiling face greeted her. “Hello, you must be Morgan.”

“Hi, yes.” She stepped inside, the room much smaller than she expected it would be. At the far end, which was only ten feet away, was a vanity station. A large mirror, like in the movies, with bulbs lining the edge and lighting up Alex’s face. Make-up cases lay open on and around it, and Sasha sat in a chair with a napkin around her neck, smiling at her through the mirror while another woman twirled a curling iron through her mane. “I can go and wait somewhere else.”

“Don’t be silly. Here, grab a chair,” the woman who’d opened the door said with another smile as she moved some boxes off of a small chair. “I’m Nancy, by the way. This is Gert.”

Gert looked up briefly, nodded, and went back to work, uninterested at the newcomer’s appearance in the room. The two women couldn’t be more different. Gert was all blonde hair and curls, a light make-up style and wearing practical jeans and shirt combo. Nancy was dark, short-cropped hair close to her scalp with a full-on face of make-up, false lashes and what Morgan imagined might have been a touch of Botox.

Morgan held out her hand and Nancy shook it, giggling.

“Gawd, she’s formal, init.” She continued to laugh. Alex smiled but said nothing. “I’m just kidding, so, what do you do around here? I’m make-up, as you can see, Gert’s hair.”

“I’m—”

“Dr Morgan Kelly is here at my invitation,” Alex said, with a wink, for good effect.

“Oh, say no more.” Nancy zipped her lips. “What happens in dressing, stays in dressing, ain’t that right, Gert?”

“Ya,” Gert said quickly, still focused on what she was doing.

“Jobs like this are hard to come by, know what I mean? We can be trusted with anything, so long as it’s legal.” She winked again, and Morgan warmed to her instantly. She seemed fun, and easy going, and most of all, loyal.

“Good to hear.” Morgan returned the smile. It was hard not to when the atmosphere felt so light.

“Right, I am done,” Gert said, her hands still running through Alex’s hair until she was happy with the way it moved and fell into place. “I’m going to get something to eat. You can manage by yourself,” she asked Nancy.

“Yep, off ya trot. I’m good.”

“I’ll be back before you go on tonight, Alex.” Gert gave another satisfied nod and grabbed her bag. And then she was gone.

“She seems cheerful,” Morgan imparted. The woman was definitely a more serious character than Nancy.

“Dutch,” Nancy said, as though that explained everything. “I thought she was German. Gawd, did I get a telling off.”

“I can imagine.” Morgan grinned at the happy-go-lucky girl. Catching Alex watching her through the mirror, she suddenly felt a little exposed, as though she were being mentally undressed.

“Nancy, would you do me a favour and see if Francine can delay the first interview, and then give me ten minutes?” Alex asked through the mirror.

“Of course.” Nancy looked from Alex to Morgan, before whispering, “What happens in dressing, stays in dressing.”

When the door closed behind her, Alex swivelled around on her chair, curling her finger to beckon her new lover closer. Morgan understood, and with a sway of her hips, she crossed the room and straddled the lap on offer. Warm hands slipped around her waist and underneath the thin t-shirt she was wearing.

“Francine thinks you’re on the verge of some kind of breakdown.” Morgan chuckled. “I considered telling her you were fine, and just on the verge of orgasmic release…but I figured that might have sent her into overload, and then I’d have to actually do something I’m being paid for.”