Chapter 46

“Bonjour, dear,” Felicity said as Marc came down the stairs from his bedroom. She smiled sweetly and looked so wholesome and pretty as she poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle that he’d left out on the counter. With the way the day would go, Marc had known there was no point in corking it and putting it away - he had no doubt they’d got through another bottle or two before the end of the night.

“Bonsoir, ma petite fée,” Marc said, stepping into the kitchen. Felicity’s smile didn’t waver as they stepped into each other’s arms and kissed lightly. Her one hand landed on his upper arm and squeezed softly. “How are you feeling today?” Marc asked as they held each other lightly.

“Good,” Felicity said. “Fresh. A little nervous.”

“Good nervous?”

“I think so,” Felicity said. “And curious. Usually, you like me dressed up in something beautiful, not sweatpants.”

“Let me run you through what Astrid and I have come up with,” Marc said, gesturing towards the couches in the sitting space.

“First I want to know how Thursday went,” Felicity said with a small smirk that went up into her eyes.

Marc sighed and gestured again towards the seats. They ended up sitting together on the loveseat, Felicity raising her legs over his and sitting close enough to snuggle up her head on his shoulder comfortably. She was wearing a pretty burgundy knit sweater and jeans at the moment, her bag with her changes of clothes over in the kitchen still, and it made Marc think of how much they would have looked like a domestic couple to an outside observer. He the confident businessman, her the stunning housewife.

“Something is on your mind,” she said, looking into his eyes with her pretty baby blues.

Marc scoffed softly, more at himself than at her ability to read him, and then smiled. “The Detective called me just before you arrived,” he said. “She was asking if we could meet here, or at her home, to go over the files that this evening is about.”

“That must mean Thursday went well,” Felicity said.

“It went- It was interesting,” Marc said. He told her about the entire night, without sparing details including his colleagues and other socialites asking after her. That put a smile on her face, and she interrupted the flow of the story to ask after a few people, if there was any news about so-and-so’s divorce, or if someone had finally popped the question, or made the business move he’d been threatening lately. When Marc told her about what Sinead said in the coatroom Felicity tutted and shook her head, and when he outlined the way her punishments had gone she gasped at the impertinence, and the mistake, of challenging Marc again even if the Detective hadn’t realised she was doing it.

“You know, Marc,” Felicity said, setting aside her wine glass and placing her hand on his chest. “A woman could get jealous, hearing stories like this.” And with that she slipped down off of the couch, getting between his legs as she reached for his zipper.