The ceiling inside was high and white and rigged with lighting equipment that Leo recognised in concept but not in scale.
The rigs up there were considerably more serious than anything he had stood under for the Wigan team shoots, and visible all around was the chaos of a production that knew exactly what it was doing, even when it didn't look like it.
He turned it over slowly with his eyes, taking it in, then lowered his gaze to the front of the space.
Ahead of him, Vittoria was standing with a photographer, a woman in her forties with close-cropped hair that looked like they could talk about lights and angles the whole time.
She was showing Vittoria something on the camera's review screen, talking through it, and Vittoria was listening with her head slightly tilted and a focused look painted on her face.
Leo watched her for a moment.
There was something about seeing her in this context, in her element, that was different from every other version of her he had seen.
