Crap. Jules looked out of the window. Please don’t fire him.

When Jules didn’t reply, Ben, sounding puzzled, took it upon himself to say, “Yes, Ms. Carlisle. Just talking about football.”

“Football,” Vivian said. “Really.”

“Yes. Uh, right, Jules?”

“Right. That’s it.” Jules finally dared to look at Vivian, whose face was absolutely closed. It wasn’t against the law to talk about football. It wasn’t even against company policy. Was it?

“Planning to see a game sometime together, Ben?” Vivian asked.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Ben glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Uh, I guess that might be…fun.”

Wrong answer, wrong answer, Jules thought frantically.

“Fun,” Vivian said lightly.

After a few seconds with his eyes on the road, Ben said, “Or not.”

“Right,” Vivian said. “I don’t think it would be fun at all. Do you, Julia?”

“No.” Jules resisted the urge to tack ma’am on the end of it. She couldn’t believe she wanted to sleep with this woman. But she did. Even right now she did. Even right in the back seat with the privacy divider up—

“I rely absolutely,” Vivian said, “on the professionalism of all my employees.”

The back of Ben’s neck was turning red. “Yes, Ms. Carlisle.”

“I hope I never have to mention this again.”

“No, Ms. Carlisle.”

“Good.” Vivian settled back in her seat looking almost pleased. She said nothing for the rest of the ride. But when Jules hurried to Vivian’s desk with a coffee in hand, Vivian gave her a loaded glance from her chair. Locked and loaded, even.

“Well, then,” Vivian said. “I didn’t fire him.”

Jules exhaled. “Thanks, Vivian.”

“I stood to gain nothing from it.” Vivian paused. “But…you’re welcome.”

* * *

Two weeks after her return from London, it was time for Vivian’s ultrasound appointment. She was at the end of her first trimester. And Jules, of course, was coming along.

The hour at the obstetrician’s was awful. Jules had to deal with checking Vivian in and then sitting with her in the waiting room. Vivian didn’t say a word. Just once Jules would have given her eyeteeth for Vivian to bombard her with orders, look down her nose, or do anything other than sit so quietly that Jules knew she was terrified.

She couldn’t deal with Vivian being terrified. It was as bad as the night Vivian had learned she was pregnant. No. Worse. And then she had to watch Vivian leave to accompany a nurse while Jules kept waiting, which was why they called it a waiting room.

When the nurse returned for her, Jules almost tripped in her haste to get to the office. Vivian looked perfectly calm as she sat in front of Dr. Viswanathan’s desk, but that could mean anything.