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