CONFIRMATION

[onlyneed1shot]

And then Camille hears nothing from Greene for three days.

She has good nerves, excellent nerves, nerves of steel and steady-hands-defusing-ticking-bomb nerves, but she is also a professional intelligence officer in the middle of an undercover operation and by the time the memo finally (finally) arrives, you could use her nerves for guitar

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[ofgreatinterest]

(The fish are useful, more so when there are many people about. It's amazing how easily distracted people can be.

But, it isn't as if they don't make a pleasant sight.)

Dominic doesn't keep a secretary - he doesn't trust anyone enough, and he's perfectly capable of handling his own affairs. It is, of course, the second of these reasons that comes up whenever the question arises.

His office is large, but not ostentatious. To one side of his desk is a small calendar, flanked by several notebooks. One of these is open, a scrawled note reminding him of today's appointment (not that he needs it, but better safe than sorry), its pages held by a small rock weight. The room is conveniently soundproofed, providing him with the silence to concentrate, and the assurance that eavesdropping won't be a problem.

(Before he gets up to open the door, he checks the lapel of his jacket, and closes the file folder on his desk.)

The door clicks, and opens outwards into the lobby. He stands half in the doorway, half in his office, one hand resting on

[onlyneed1shot]

"Of course," and she gets to her feet in a smooth gesture, a polite smile warming her face. She doesn't say anything sarcastic (why wouldn't I turn up), barely even thinks them; it'd be unprofessional, otherwise.

As she stands, it's made more obvious that she hasn't brought anything with her. No briefcases, no folders. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which being that she doesn't generally need them.

He holds the door open for her - she doesn't know if she should be surprised or not - and given how close she has to walk by him, she's glad she put on perfume. Nothing flashy, nothing terribly noticeable, just something subtle and dark (and hideously expensive, but there are advantages to seducing powerful people) because it never hurts.

She takes in his office in a heartbeat, but glances at him rather than heading straight for the visitor's chair.

[ofgreatinterest]

He draws his own conclusions from the fact that she doesn't have anything with her, all of which ease his apprehension at having decided to make this deal in the first place. (She's - quite attractive, to boot, not something he'd usually take note of in situations like these, but given her proximity, it's hard not to. The thought only registers as a slight smirk once the door is closed.)

Crossing the room, he stops in front of his desk, turning to face her and gesturing at the visitor's chair (or rather, armchair) with a nod and a, "If you'd like ..."

Leaning back very slightly, he tucks his hands into his pockets, crossing his ankles.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"

If there's a note of sarcasm in his voice, there's nothing but sincere concern to be found in his expression.

[onlyneed1shot]

A quick inclincation of her head, a quiet, "Gracias," and Camille sits down. A comfortable armchair, and she doesn't sit all the way into it. Her back is too straight, if nothing else.

"This is Bolivia, Senor Greene - I'm sure you know that things rarely happen on time."