Vice and Victor - Chapter Twenty-One

“Okay,” she agreed. Victor lingered for a moment as if reluctant to hang up, and she heard Vice’s voice just before the phone disconnected. She sat for a long time holding her phone to her ear as if it held the ghost of their voices, her heart pounding, and then she drew in a deep breath and slid the phone onto the bedside table before picking up the receiver on the landline and pressing the concierge button.

“Concierge,” the man answered brightly.

“Hi, I am expecting visitors in about two hours,” she said, her voice was hoarse. “Vice and Victor, my producers. Please give them a door key and let them up. I may be in the bath when they arrive.”

If he found it odd that she would be receiving visitors or taking a bath after midnight, he did not let on. “Certainly, Miss Mirage.”

“Thank you.” She hung up, and sat staring at her phone, its screen blank. A bath, Vice had said.

She rose obediently and went into the bathroom, starting the bath whilst she used her cleansers to remove the traces