Now that she thought about it, it was strange that Simon had misjudged Vivian. When he’d said that Vivian was worried about Jules quitting her job, she had taken it as the gospel truth because nobody knew Vivian like Simon did. If Vivian thought of anyone as a friend, surely it was him.

“I’m sure she found that reassuring.” Simon sighed and gave her a folder in exchange for the photos. “I don’t want to be all gloom and doom. I’ve just seen her burn too many people in my time.”

Jules winced. Like Mallory, who’d made a mistake with yellow in the editorial spread. Or Lucia, who’d gone behind Vivian’s back at Givenchy. Or heck, even Ben, who hadn’t done anything wrong. Simon must have seen far worse than that over the years.

He continued. “Do me a favor and give this to her? I’d rather get a look at her from a distance before I come any closer today.”

“Gotcha.” She lowered her voice. “Thanks again, by the way.”

He gave her a small smile as she left.

She brought the folder in to Vivian, returned to her desk, and started grinning again.

Then she tried to bring herself back down to earth. She hadn’t told anyone about Salon except for Simon and Vivian. She hadn’t even told her parents.

But even though Simon said she was in, there was always the chance the article wouldn’t make the final cut. Vivian often rejected things from Du Jour at the last minute. Jules wasn’t going to stop holding her breath until she actually saw the article on the Salon website.

In the meantime, she had a job to do. Several, in fact. It wasn’t just drudgery anymore. And she wasn’t going to quit anytime soon, no matter what Simon said.

* * *

Jules’s happy glow persisted for forty-eight more hours. But then:

Du Jour Editor In Chief Pregnant!

As soon as Jules saw the headline on Page Six, she knew that today was going to be a very, very bad day. It was even worse because she saw the headline in Vivian’s car. Vivian shoved her phone in Jules’s face, her own white with fury.

“Look at this!” she spat.

Jules took the phone, hardly daring to breathe. Up in front, Ben’s eyes were fixed firmly on the road. “Um,” she said, “uh…”

“Read it,” Vivian said.

Jules cleared her throat. “‘Vivian Car—’”

“Not out loud,” Vivian snapped as she turned to stare out her window.

Shit. Jules cringed and read the article.