It is noon on a Wednesday and Aures does not have the time for this.

“They are good seats. I made sure,” her secretary, Michel, is saying in his best English as though she’s not native-level fluent in French by now.

They’ve been here six years after all.

“And they include wine and hors-d’oeuvres at the interval!” he waffles on.

She has to give him an A for effort. Most usually take her staunch lack of reaction to their ...