"Will do," he said, turning his head slightly. Vivienne was in the kitchen, dressed as if she was ready for another riveting day at the office. The coffee maker was humming as she turned around at the island counter.

"Sleep well?" She asked. Arthur nodded. He told her about their flight back to Paris in a couple of hours. Her face fell. She offered to drive them to the airport as well as take care of the stolen taxi in her driveway. Arthur muttered a small, "That will do," and then he asked if she had any pants or a shirt and shoes for Ariadne. She went upstairs to her bedroom and came back a few minutes later with a black pencil skirt and flip-flops somebody bought for her as a gag gift since she would never be caught dead in that type of footwear. Arthur said thanks. "There's coffee here, if you'd like some although I don't really have any food except maybe some day-old croissants." He remembered that she never cooked, at all. When they were dating, they ate at restaurants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Arthur walked back to the bedroom with the skirt and flip-flops.