Even the tips of Vivian’s ears went pink. Her mouth parted briefly, softly before she snapped it shut. Her voice sounded faintly strangled when she spoke next. Maybe it was the desire she was trying to choke out. “I’ll think of something. That is, we will. There are no problems, Julia, only solutions.”

There was something about Vivian that made anything seem possible, including an impossible compromise. “Um…right. But mostly you’re just thinking about the ‘companionship’ thing.”

“Yes. That part of you, the important part, would be—”

Mine, she didn’t say, but they both heard it.

Jules bit her bottom lip to hold back the groan that wanted to escape. You want me, she longed to say. Don’t you see that? Don’t you recognize it?

Maybe she didn’t. Vivian had said she’d never been attracted to another woman. Whether that was true or not, this had to be confusing as hell, especially to a woman used to putting her personal life last on her list of priorities. Vivian really might not realize what she wanted.

And Jules couldn’t make her realize it, couldn’t make Vivian sit on this couch until she did. If she said she didn’t want to have sex, that had to be the end of it. The most Jules could do was wear strategically low-cut blouses and hope Vivian got a clue eventually.

Vivian looked back at her and sighed deeply. “You think this is ridiculous, don’t you?” She shook her head before Jules could reply affirmatively. “So was the Iris van Herpen collection, and what did you think about that?”

“It’s genius.”

“And ridiculous.”

“But genius,” Jules conceded. “All right. I’m thinking about it. Keep going.”

Vivian looked back down at the tablet. “I’ll skip over your family,” she said in a low voice. “The last question is all that matters. What do you want? Don’t say it’s me.”

Jules, who had been about to say you yet again, closed her mouth.

“Tell me what you want out of life.” She laid the tablet in her lap.

Jules straightened her shoulders. “I want to stand out. I have stuff I want to say, and I want people to listen, and I want it to matter and to—to change things, to—”

“So do PR for the Peace Corps.” Vivian looked a little amused.

Jules took the bait. “Okay, so I don’t know exactly what I want yet. I want to write and get published, and I also want to work in fashion because I love both of those things. So far, so good, right?”

“You’ve made a start,” Vivian acknowledged. “Not much more.”