Four damn hours.



Four damn hours it took to get upstairs.



Four hours of tottering around in a stupid frilly uniform, pretending to be a vapid little girl whilst serving hot hors d’oeurves to drunken business men and their snobbish wives. Oh, Josephine hated the wives even more than the men. She hated their eyes, the way the dance of their pupils as they flickered back and forth between their husbands and Josephine, and the way their blackened lashes bowed as they narrowed…