The meeting with Vivienne lasted exactly twenty-seven minutes, as promised. She walked me through the weekend itinerary with the intensity of a general briefing troops before an invasion. Saturday morning: breakfast at eight, followed by Cassidy's tutoring session from nine to eleven. Saturday afternoon: accompanying Vivienne to a brand partner meeting downtown. Saturday evening: "flexible," which I suspected meant Harlow had already claimed those hours through some sister-negotiation process I wasn't privy to. Sunday: more tutoring, a family dinner I was apparently required to attend, and departure by six PM.
Mrs. Tanaka appeared at my elbow the moment Vivienne dismissed me, materializing from whatever shadow dimension household staff seemed to inhabit in places like this.
"If you'll follow me, Mr. Angelo. Your suite is prepared."
Suite. Not room. Suite.
