“So,” Vivian said without turning to look at her, “you ‘looked it up.’”

“Um. Yes. Just stuff about, uh, diet. Maybe I should get a book?”

“Maybe you should.”

Jules gulped.

* * *

Especially for a GP, Sandra Latchley had a very nice office—the kind that bespoke rich patients. As Jules had thought, Vivian was there chiefly to have her suspicions confirmed and get a referral.

Jules was not actually expected to follow Vivian into an examination room, so she lingered in the waiting room. Thank goodness. The thought of Vivian Carlisle in one of those open-backed gowns was actually embarrassing. In the meantime, she fidgeted.

About half an hour later, a nurse came down the hall. “Julia?” she called. “This way, please.”

A fully dressed Vivian was sitting in her doctor’s office in a chair across the desk.

Dr. Latchley had various papers and charts in front of her. She smiled in welcome. Her brown eyes were warm and kind, and Jules hoped against hope that she’d had a soothing effect on Vivian.

“Have a seat,” she said.

Jules managed a smile of her own as she lowered herself into a hard leather chair. She’d had her tablet at the ready ever since they’d arrived at the clinic just so she could be available at a moment’s notice.

“All right,” Dr. Latchley said. “Vivian told me she doesn’t mind you hearing whatever I have to say, so now that you’re here, shall we begin?”

“Please,” Vivian said. “I’m on a tight schedule.”

“Well, so am I,” Dr. Latchley said calmly. “So let’s get down to it. Vivian, you are indeed pregnant. Your test showed the presence of a hormone that only appears when—”

“Yes, yes.” Vivian’s face remained neutral at Dr. Latchley’s confirmation.

Dr. Latchley seemed unwilling to be rushed. “The pregnancy is quite recent. When was your last period?”

“It was supposed to be almost a week ago.”

“And you got a pregnancy test already? That timespan isn’t normally enough to be a cause for alarm.”

“It is for me,” Vivian said flatly.

Jules held back a smile. Of course Vivian would be as regular as clockwork. Her hormones probably lived in as much terror of her as the Du Jour staff.

“Besides,” Vivian said, “just a couple of weeks before, Robert and I—well.”

That answered that question. Vivian and Robert had had sex while they were in the divorce process. Jules’s head spun. Was it a last-ditch effort to save their marriage, one last hurrah, what? Either way, it sure had come with enormous consequences.

“Have you been undergoing fertility treatments?” Dr. Latchley asked.

“No!” Vivian snapped, losing her cool for a fraction of a second. “This was an acci—unintentional.”

“The odds of a woman your age getting pregnant without assistance are extremely low.”

“I thought so too,” Vivian muttered. “I didn’t have any ‘assistance.’ What’s next?”