Oh God. She was looking at the accent wall with its geometric colored pattern—including lots of shapes painted a buttery yellow. Yellow, the color she hated most and which Jules had never thought Vivian would actually see here. Ever since they’d started up, there hadn’t even been the slightest suggestion of Vivian coming to Jules’s place.

No comment was forthcoming on the accent wall. She continued her silent survey of the apartment and then turned back to Jules herself.

She looked exhausted and unhappy. She’d probably had a worse day than Jules, who at least had been able to sit on her ass and watch TV for a few hours. They regarded each other for a long moment.

“Happy birthday to me,” Jules said brightly.

A bitter smile twisted Vivian’s mouth, and Jules wished she hadn’t joked at a time like this.

“No kidding.” Vivian inclined her head toward the couch. “Let’s sit.”

“Of course,” Jules said, also regretting her poor manners. It had been a while since she’d had company. “You, um, want something to drink?”

“No.” Vivian seated herself on one end of the sofa.

Jules took the other end, tucking one knee under herself so she could face her.

Vivian, however, kept both feet firmly on the floor and appeared fascinated by her lap.

Jules wanted a hug. Or a kiss. Or something comforting like that. That didn’t seem to be what Vivian wanted right now. Jules waited.

“I can get your job back,” Vivian said.

Jules’s skin prickled all over. Of everything she’d been expecting, that offer hadn’t been on the list. Only one thing made it possible, and it was unthinkable.

She leaned forward urgently. “I don’t want you to ask Mark for anything.”

No more calling him “Mr. Tavio” from now on, that was for sure.

Vivian shook her head. “You let me handle that.”

“No, seriously—” Jules twisted her hands in her lap.

“Leave Mark Tavio to me.” Vivian’s voice brooked no opposition. “I know what it’ll take.”

So did Jules. It would mean Vivian asking Mark to let Jules return, humbling herself before him. What else would do it? Hell, he might have been anticipating that when he fired Jules.

And if he hadn’t anticipated it, that would be even worse. Vivian would never do such a thing for an ordinary assistant. It would be enough to make him ask questions—along with everyone else.

“I can do it, Julia.” She finally looked at Jules. “I’ll make it happen. I’ll give that to you.” On the last sentence, her voice shook.

The hair on the back of Jules’s neck stood up. I’ll give that to you.