Flaneur ✅💋

3. Jouer Avec le Feu

March 27, 1942

Genevieve turned from side to side in the mirror, making sure everything was in place. No lipstick on her teeth, waves cascading down her back, red lacquer on her nails, and her silk robe falling off just one shoulder, nothing underneath. Perfect, as always. The doorbell rang, and she took a deep breath to remind herself that all wounds healed in time, and descended the steps smiling all the while at the lack of phone call before hand.

She emptied her ashtray into the toilet before going to answer the door. She had read the message from Belle and burned it to get rid of the evidence. It was the location of the dead drop, should she ever need to discretely signal for help, or let them know she was alright. It was a café just a few blocks from her mansion. Café du Soleil Rouge.

"Open up!" German. How she loathed the very language due to their horrid manners and behavior.

She opened the robe just a bit more to expose the crevice of her bust. Perfect. She opened the door and smiled warmly at the rude soldier pounding on her door. "By order of the Führer-"

"Calm down, Ralf. That's no way to speak to a lady." Colonel Roemheld placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder.

"Apologies, Colonel." Ralf spun away from the door. "Shall I inform the men the search can begin?" He checked, before departing back to the car.

Colonel Roemheld shook his head. "I don't believe that will be necessary. The mademoiselle is completely compliant and won't be any trouble, I assure you. Why don't you go wait in the car?" Ralf cocked his head like a lost puppy. "Go on. Go!" The poor man nearly tripped over his feet in a hurry to get back to the car.

Genevieve suppressed a giggle behind her hand at the scene, gaining the colonel's eyes on her once more. He smiled devilishly and straightened the black medallion around his neck. "What requirements did you meet to earn that?" She asked in a honey smooth voice as he took the few steps up the porch and stood just a breath away from her.

"Showing bravery." He stated just as smooth and lifted his hand as if to say, "after you."

"Would you like a drink?" She asked coyly, deliberately walking ahead of him towards the kitchen to give him a view.

"Nein." She cringed at the thought of him forcing her to speak German.

"Suit yourself." She replied in French, hoping he would take the hint. She poured herself a glass of wine that she had brought up from her cellar and brushed past him on her way to the lounge. "Well then, Colonel, I know you have a follow up to get on with, so please, don't let me keep you. If you have any questions I would be more than happy to answer them." She swirled the red wine in her glass and took a dainty sip before looking back at him. He wasn't sitting, he was standing in the doorway of her lounge examining the entire room without moving a muscle. He was good, but she wanted to see how good.

"You have a lovely home." She was glad he stuck to her language. "May I sit?" She gestured to the seat in front of her as she stretched out on the sofa. "Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten to call ahead of my visit." He nodded towards her robe.

Genevieve toyed with the sash on her robe and laughed lightly. "You don't seem like the type of man to forget anything, Colonel Roemheld. You seem like a very deliberate and precise sort of man."

He smirked at her comment and bent to open the black briefcase he had brought with him. It matched the black of his boots, though it was less polished and glossy. "Guilty." He said just loud enough for her to hear. For such an elaborately crafted mission she found it to be going too easy. He pulled out a pen and paper and busied himself with readying his notes while she sipped her wine. "May I see your papers?"