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Chapters (59)
  1. Other Books by Roslyn Sinclair
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. Chapter 9
  13. Chapter 10
  14. Chapter 11
  15. Chapter 12
  16. Chapter 13
  17. Chapter 14
  18. Chapter 15
  19. Chapter 16
  20. Chapter 17
  21. Chapter 18
  22. Chapter 19
  23. Chapter 20
  24. Chapter 21
  25. Chapter 22
  26. Chapter 23
  27. Chapter 24
  28. Chapter 25
  29. Chapter 26
  30. Chapter 27
  31. Chapter 28
  32. Chapter 29
  33. Chapter 30
  34. Chapter 31
  35. Chapter 32
  36. Chapter 33
  37. Chapter 34
  38. Chapter 35
  39. Chapter 36
  40. Chapter 37
  41. Chapter 38
  42. Chapter 39
  43. Chapter 40
  44. Chapter 41
  45. Chapter 42
  46. Chapter 43
  47. Chapter 44
  48. Chapter 45
  49. Chapter 46
  50. Chapter 47
  51. Chapter 48
  52. Chapter 49
  53. Chapter 50
  54. Chapter 51
  55. Chapter 52
  56. Chapter 53
  57. Chapter 54
  58. Other Books from Ylva Publishing
  59. About Roslyn Sinclair

What else was new? Jules laughed a little. “Anything. You name it. Anything at all.”

* * *

“Why don’t you ever wear that brooch?”

“Huh?” Jules asked around a mouthful of broccoli melt from Daily Provisions. “Uh, what brooch?”

Vivian stuck her fork into her chicken Caesar salad. “The snake brooch I gave you in London. I haven’t seen you wear it since then, and I know you liked it.”

Her face turned hot. “I do,” she said. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

Vivian tilted her head to the side.

“Too nice,” Jules admitted. “I have it in a safe deposit box.”

A look of displeasure crossed Vivian’s face.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to it!” Jules added quickly. “I keep it in a safe place because it’s special.”

Very special. It was the first thing Vivian had given her after they’d begun their…courtship or whatever it was. It was irreplaceable. Jules wasn’t about to risk that brooch being lost or stolen.

“Jewelry is meant to be worn,” Vivian pointed out.

“I will. It’s just too nice for every day.”

“Hmm,” Vivian said. “Wear it to the party next month.” Her eyes gleamed with secret pleasure.

“Okay,” Jules said slowly. “What are you up to with that, anyway?”

She shrugged. “Just a little soirée. Why do I have to be up to something?” Before Jules could reply, she added, “I haven’t seen you check your email yet today.”

“Of course not!” Jules spluttered. “When was I supposed to do that, with my fingers in your—”

Vivian pinked. “Don’t be crude. Anyway, why don’t you look?”

Talk about being up to something. Jules grabbed her phone and opened her email.

Her eyes widened. At the top of her inbox was an email from someone named Carter Mathson.

The email read:

Dear Ms. Moretti,

I hope this email finds you well. I’m reaching out to you in the hopes that you’d be willing to write a short feature for Modernity’s June issue. We would be looking for a piece of about 1,000 words on the topic of your choice. We are particularly interested in pieces on fashion for this issue, which in your current position I believe you can readily supply. If you would like to submit a feature to Modernity, please reply ASAP with a brief proposal for the piece.

I look forward to hearing from you within the next two days.

Sincerely,

Carter Mathson

Features Editor

Modernity Magazine

Jules read the email three times in dumb astonishment. Modernity was about popular culture, style, and politics that published celebrity interviews right alongside articles about world affairs. Her parents had had a subscription when she was growing up. It was, as her dad would say, the real deal. And they were reaching out to her…her…to write something?