“Commander . . . Sassinak, is it not?”

“I’m surprised,” she said. The woman smiled.

“We do watch the news programs, you know. How serendipitous! Fleur will want to meet you.”

Sassinak almost let her jaw drop. She had heard a little about such places as this. The designer herself did not come out and meet everyone who came through the door.

“Won’t you have a seat?” the woman went on. “And you’ll have something cool, I hope?” She led Sassinak to a padded chair next to a graceful little table on which rested a tall pitcher, its sides beaded, and a crystal glass. Sassinak eyed it doubtfully. “Fruit juice,” the woman said. “Although if you’d prefer another beverage?”

“No, thank you. This is fine.”

She took the glass she was offered and sipped it to cover her confusion. The woman went away, leaving her to look around. She had been in shops, in some very good shops, with elegant displays of a few pieces of jewelry or a single silk dress. But here nothing marked the room as part of a shop. It might have been the sitting room of some wealthy matron: comfortable chairs grouped around small tables, fresh flowers, soft music. She relaxed, slowly, enjoying the tart fruit juice. If they knew she was a Fleet officer, they undoubtedly knew her salary didn’t stretch to original creations. But if they were willing to have her rest in their comfortable chair, she wasn’t about to walk out.

“My dear!” The silver-haired woman who smiled at her might have been any elegant great-grand-mother who had kept her figure. Seventies? Eighties? Sassinak wasn’t sure. “What a delightful surprise. Mirelle told you we’d seen you on the news, didn’t she? And of course we’d seen you walk by. I must confess,” this with a throaty chuckle that Sassinak could not resist, “I’ve been putting one thing after another in the window to see if we could entice you.” She turned to the first woman. “And you see, Mirelle, I was right: the jeweled jacket did it.”

Mirelle shrugged gracefully. “And I will wager that if