I had always considered free time an administrative error.
If an empty hour appeared in my schedule, I filled it. If a meeting was cancelled, I moved another one forward. Vacations were simply business trips with better room service, and weekends existed mainly to catch up on the work people had failed to complete during the week.
Clémence found this philosophy horrifying.
She told me so at eight in the morning while standing in the doorway of my hotel room with two cups of coffee and a paper bag pressed against her chest.
"You are not working today," she announced.
I looked down at the phone in my hand. "I'm answering one email."
"You have been answering one email for twenty minutes."
"It became several emails."
Her eyes narrowed.
Clémence was beautiful when she was annoyed. This was inconvenient because it made taking her seriously considerably harder.
