And maybe she would. Vivian had a little more spring in her step these days, more of a sparkle in her eye. She’d had time to absorb the shock of her pregnancy, time to—well, not get over Robert’s infidelity, but she didn’t seem to be dwelling on it.

Reporters weren’t bugging her as much now as they had in the forty-eight hours after the news about her pregnancy had broken. Vivian’s position was still difficult, still something Jules wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy (okay, maybe her worst), but she seemed to be dealing with it better than Jules would have expected.

It was totally nothing to do with her, of course. Just because Jules was there to make things easier, just because Vivian relied on her more than she’d ever relied on another assistant, that didn’t matter. So what if she knew that Jules worked her ass off to make her happy? Why should that give her so much…bounce?

Not the time to let silly fantasies go to your head. If Jules really wanted to make Vivian happy and comfortable, she could start by doing her job and finding a halfway-decent intern.

Two days later, she finally preinterviewed a tall, willowy blonde who’d made it past the initial HR screening. She was majoring in art history at Columbia and had an impressive list of extracurriculars. She also had a permanent curl of her upper lip.

Nevertheless, Jules gave her a friendly smile. “Hi.” She extended her hand.

The blonde took it limply before dropping it again.

“I’m Julia Moretti, but you can call me Jules.”

“Huh,” the blonde—whose name was Victoria—said. “That’s cute.”

“Er, I guess. So, Victoria…it is Victoria, right? Or do you go by Vicky or something?”

Victoria looked revolted, but she only said “no.”

“Right.” Jules felt her smile becoming strained. Victoria had better say something impressive in the next few minutes if she wanted to have a prayer of landing this position. “Have a seat.”

They were in a small meeting room near Simon’s office. Victoria seated herself elegantly and folded her hands on the glass tabletop.

“So, Victoria…” Jules glanced down at the list of questions she’d prepared. “To start, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“What about me?” Victoria looked around, appearing impatient. “Listen, I’m sorry, but my time is kind of at a premium today.”

She couldn’t have heard that correctly. “What?”

“I came here for an interview,” Victoria said. “Is Ms. Carlisle busy or something?”

“Ms. Carlisle?”

Victoria glared at her. “You’re her assistant, right?”

“Yes,” Jules replied, astonished.

“So you’re in charge of her schedule. When is she going to be free? How long do I have to wait?”

“Well”—Jules looked at her watch—“no longer, actually. Come on.”