Jules fought not to wolf down her food.

It helped to slow down when Vivian said, “You don’t need to assist me when we’re not at work.”

That sure was news to her. As an assistant, she was on call nearly 24/7, whether Vivian was in the office or not.

She knew what it meant, though. Things were supposed to be different now. So Jules said plainly, “I told you before, I like doing things for you. It makes me happy.”

Vivian blinked.

“So don’t worry about it. If you’re tired, let me bring you a plate. I’m not being a servant or something, I’m being your…” She didn’t even know the word. “Whatever. I’m being considerate.”

“Being my ‘whatever,’” Vivian mused. She sipped from a glass Jules had filled with peach-flavored seltzer water. “Julia, why do you like sex?”

Thank God Jules hadn’t taken another mouthful of anything. Even if she was a “whatever” instead of an assistant, what a question to hear from Vivian Carlisle.

To gain time, she wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. Her face was hot, though, and she knew her blush was visible. “Why wouldn’t I like it?”

Vivian shrugged. “You said it’s important to you. Given our…circumstances, I think it’s fair that I find out why.”

“Well…” Jules pushed the salmon around on her plate as if it were a culinary Ouija board that would spell out the right answer. “It’s nice to be close to someone you care about. It’s intimate. I like that.”

“So are foot rubs. You don’t seem entirely content with those.”

“Of course it’s more than that. Good sex feels, well, good. You said you’ve had some, right?” She couldn’t stop herself from leaning across the table a little as her curiosity got the better of her. “With who?”

Vivian actually chuckled before looking into the distance. “More than one man, but the one I remember most was during my senior year of college. Eliot. We met at a party. He wasn’t the best-looking man there, but he had these eyes.” Vivian’s expression grew dreamy for a moment. “They were so intense. He looked at me as if he knew everything I wanted and was the only man alive who could give it to me.”

Jules felt breathless. “And did he?”

“God, yes. Of course, I was twenty-two and my standards for a good lover were lower than they are now. But I was swept away. It was almost enough to…” She trailed off. The edge of her smile grew melancholy.

“To what?”

“To make me lose sight of things,” she murmured. “To make me leave New York with him.”