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taken to resting her head on Chris Foster’s shoulder as they drove through the dark London streets.
    Foster told himself it was part of the job to get her safely into her room, but neither of them really believed that was the reason he was there.
    ‘Do you check under the bed as part of the deal?’ she asked as they headed into the confines of the lift. Her delicate perfume swirled around him again, heady and intoxicating. That she had reapplied it in the lobby told Foster everything he needed to know, because after all, who was left to smell it except him?
    ‘I check everything,’ he said. ‘I don’t like taking chances.’
    Keller smiled.
    ‘Never?’
    She slipped her hand into his as they emerged from the lift and walked beside him to her room. Foster smiled without turning towards her, and when they got to her door he took the spare keycard out of his pocket and swiped it. He took his work seriously and swept through the outer room, the bedroom and the opulent bathroom with complete focus and concentration, before turning back to his client.
    Keller had already kicked off her heels and she padded barefoot across the deep carpet towards him. Behind her, the glass wall looked out onto London’s bright lights twinkling forty-two floors below. They were orange and yellow, warmer than the ice-white stars in the black sky above.
    The smoky make-up around Keller’s eyes had faded, or maybe Foster had become accustomed to it. Either way, as she stood in front of him she looked healthy and wholesome and vivacious.
    ‘The trouble with this dress,’ she said, as if she had read his mind, ‘is that I can get the zipper up all by myself, but I can never get it back down. Would you mind?’
    Foster looked at her. He preferred her without the mascara and the lip gloss. She looked naturally beautiful.
    ‘What happens if there isn’t a guy around to help you out?’
    ‘That’s what Maria’s for, of course.’
    Foster smiled.
    She turned gracefully so that he could get at the back of the dress, lifting her blonde hair and arching her back slightly. He lowered the zip down slowly between her bare shoulder blades and only stopped once he reached the small of her back. The first swirls of underwear looked as perfect as everything else she was wearing: classic black lace bordering satin.
    She turned to face him and her eyes were suddenly alive, searching for answers in his. They stayed there for a long moment, halfway between the streetlights and the starlight, both waiting to see what would happen next. Keller smiled and padded off to her bedroom, then returned wearing one of the hotel’s robes a minute later. She looked as alluring as any woman Foster had seen in the past three years.
    ‘I’m going to take a shower,’ she said. ‘Will you stay? I don’t want to come out and find a message written on my mirror.’
    ‘You won’t,’ Foster said. ‘I promise.’
    She smiled.
    ‘Will you stay anyway?’
    ‘Sure.’
    She thanked him and headed off to the bathroom with its marble walls and vertigo-inducing shower. He heard the water start to flow, and soon enough the sound of her splashing around underneath it. He turned and soaked up the view outside. Foster could never get tired of a view like that. He got lost in it, watching it long enough for Elaina to finally walk up beside him and slip her hand into the same hand Kirsten Keller had held earlier. And rest her head on the same shoulder that Kirsten had rested hers on.
    ‘Chris?’ Elaina said after a minute.
    Her voice. God, he missed it.
    ‘You do know I’m cool with all of this, don’t you?’
    He didn’t know what to say back to her, so they watched the stars for a while, and watched the planes gliding into Heathrow one after another in the clear night sky.
    ‘I miss you,’ he said eventually. The words slipped out as he exhaled, no more than a whisper carried on his breath.
    In his mind Elaina let go of his hand and turned to face him – the same