“Figure out if you’re interested and get in touch with Randall before you leave. He’s hovering somewhere. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She smiled at someone standing behind Jules.

“Of course.” She took a hasty step out of her way. “Thank you so much.”

But Monique had already moved on, leaving Jules to find Randall on her own. After a few minutes, she located him in a corner, looking down at the glowing screen of his phone while his thumbs tapped furiously.

He looked up at her approach. “Hi. You joining Monique Leung?”

It took Jules a second to realize he was referring to Monique’s new label rather than being weirdly formal about his boss. He’d asked a good question. Was she joining Monique Leung?

The opportunity would get her away from heartbreak while also exposing her to new facets of the fashion industry. She’d see more of the world too. On the other hand, it meant dealing with a host of logistical nightmares, to say nothing of moving far away from Vivian.

Vivian, who’d just said she didn’t need Jules anyway, along with a lot of other awful stuff. Vivian, who would never care about Jules half as much as Jules cared about her.

The answer should be obvious, and yet all Jules said was “I’m not sure yet.”

He sighed. “Me either.”

“Really?”

“Really. I always thought publishing was where it’s at.”

So had Jules. She’d clawed her way past hundreds of applicants for her internship at Du Jour, and as maddening as it could be, she loved working there. Loved the energy, the industry, and the way everyone came to her if they needed to know something. In a magazine that was a revolving door, she’d somehow found her still center. Until now.

Randall continued, “But Monique’s amazing, so I don’t know. You should think about it. Share your contact card with me.”

“Of course.” She could just ignore her lock screen full of angry texts for a couple of seconds, right? But when Jules reached into her clutch for her phone, she touched only empty air.

Panic raced through her. Where had she left it? Oh…

On the kitchen counter back at the townhouse.

“Shit,” she whispered, her blood going cold. “I left my phone at Viv…at my hotel.”

Randall looked appropriately horrified. A phone was an assistant’s lifeblood. “Then give me your number. I’ll text you and you’ll have it when you get back.”

Sure. Yeah. That’d be fine. Jules breathed deeply. Vivian had left for dinner. If Randall texted with Don’t forget your amazing new job opportunity with Monique Leung, Vivian wouldn’t see it.

Not that she’d care at this point.

Jules gave Randall her number and thanked him. Then she escaped into the chilly night air of London in mid-February with too many things to think about for comfort.