Go home, people, she wanted to say, hypocrite that she was.

Clearly, business was booming, because the office occupied two floors of a Park Avenue building and had a waterfall in the lobby. She’d been offered a bottle of mineral water when she came in, and the chairs were luxuriously comfy. Harp music interwoven with whale song was playing from discreetly placed speakers. There were many brochures on the table, but Juliet couldn’t bring herself to look at them.

Oliver would not be happy about this. Hopefully, he would never know. Juliet had taken out a separate credit card to hide the cost. Not that he would deny her anything (and not that she needed his approval to spend her hard-earned money) . . . she just didn’t want him to know she was here. That fear—if she pointed out an imperfection, he’d say, “You know what? You’re right.”

He, of course, was aging perfectly, as had his grandfather, who died at the age of 104 and looked about sixty. Helen, Oliver’s mother, could be a model, and she was seventy-five. That peachy British skin.

But Juliet was American, and ageism was a real issue.

Last week, Kathy Walker, who was six years older than Juliet, had come into the office with shocking red hair. Prior to this, Kathy had worn her prematurely white hair in a very elegant French twist, saying she couldn’t be bothered to color it. Now, it was cherry red and short—quite a lot like Arwen’s cut, gosh golly, big coincidence there.

Kathy had also taken to wearing stilettos with red soles . . . Christian Louboutins, which cost a small fortune. Juliet could afford them, too, but it felt morally wrong, paying two grand for a pair of painful shoes. Kathy had been swinging by Arwen’s office more and more, and Juliet’s less and less. When Juliet texted her, asking if she wanted to grab a drink, Kathy responded that it was a nice idea and she’d get back to her. That was three weeks ago.

Back when Juliet had been new, she and Kathy were the only women in the New Haven office of DJK, and they’d supported each other, eventually becoming friends. They’d had dinners together, sometimes with their husbands. Juliet and Oliver had gone to Kathy’s son’s wedding last year. Before Arwen got hired, Kathy and she speculated about when a new partner would be named, since they were both on track to be tapped.

The past few months, Kathy had cooled considerably.

It didn’t matter, Juliet told herself. She’d keep her head down and do her job. Her work had always spoken for itself. Sadie was the fun one, the kind of person who made a new friend every fifteen minutes, or had people telling her their life stories after ten seconds in her presence. Juliet was the worker. Organized, determined, a big-picture thinker with a list of details. Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose, as Friday Night Lights told her. That slogan had always spoken to her. Her heart had always been full, because she truly felt blessed in life, with a mother who encouraged and guided her, a stellar education, a wonderful husband, healthy children, a job she loved.