Mastering Charlotte
So I make a show of quickly glancing through them, then put them to one side.
.... The data key....
I move to plug it into the laptop, my eyes flashing to hers, and I see the fear written there....
"Sorry, but you'll have to excuse me," she says. "I can't bear to watch it. I'll come back in a few minutes." And she retreats, almost flees.
The screen flickers to life: a view of Charlotte, dressed respectably enough, the only noteworthy item a black leather collar at her neck.
As I see her there, up on the podium, it seems comfortable enough at first, civilised even.
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