Except Kathy was older and wasn’t saying boo. And it would be hard to prove discrimination on the basis of gender, given that Arwen was a woman, too. A gay woman, for that matter, something Juliet had only found out a few weeks ago when she and Saanvi had had drinks at the same bar where Arwen had been with a woman, and they’d kissed once or twice. Arwen hadn’t seen Juliet, and Juliet hadn’t gone over, not wanting to intrude.

Now Juliet glanced out the window, then back at her boss. “Just be thoughtful, Dave. A green architect on a high-profile client’s project could be risky.”

“Fortune favors the bold,” he said. “And you know how we like to think outside the box at DJK. Thanks for bringing me your concerns. I think we’ve cleared the air. And I’ll see you at your party this weekend, right?”

Dismissed. “Yes. Thanks for hearing me out.” She left his office, past the silent Laurie, the plans for the senator’s house clenched in her hands.

Today was one of the days she left early and worked from home. She grabbed her stuff, fake smiled at her colleagues and got out of there as soon as possible. In her car, she sat for a minute, gripping the steering wheel, stymied, frustrated and . . . scared.

She could leave the firm and start her own. The thought had crossed her mind from time to time, but DJK had always been the best of both worlds—creativity within an established, respected firm. Starting her own would be twice the workload, and the girls still needed her. She could put out some feelers at other firms, but the truth was, if she left now . . . well. It would look exactly like what it was. She was leaving because another architect was taking over.

Was it possible she had peaked? Were her best days behind her? She was forty-three, and she hadn’t recycled an idea yet. Maybe this was just a normal phase of a career, being established and therefore slightly less exciting.

But the thought of aging out struck a nerve. Arwen was so beautiful . . . That had to be a factor, even if it wasn’t ever going to be acknowledged. Juliet looked in the rearview mirror. She was still attractive. Of course she was! She had decades of youth in front of her! She was in her prime. Look at Meryl Streep! Look at . . . um . . . Sofía Vergara! And JLo! She’d just spent three grand on looking even younger, goddamnit.

She was too serious, was she? She should smile more? How dare her boss imply that she was . . . was stale and boring! She was absolutely not those things. Oliver still adored her. Even if they’d settled into a routine, it was a good routine.

Sort of like Mom and Dad.

Shit.