Le Weekend - I
Six different people, one weekend, and by Sunday, there will only be one outcome.
“Hello, Antoine.” Breathless and barely a whisper, Brigitte perched on his desk. The rasp of the keyboard did not waver. Easing forward, displaying her tanned cleavage, she toyed with a lock of her chestnut hair. He paused, peered at his handwritten notes, and started typing again. “Antoine? Do you like my new top?” Her husky timbre appealed for a reply. There were eyes upon her but not his. She glanced at Celine and Eva,...