Jules managed to keep the smile off her face. Unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything about the blush. So Vivian had noticed.

“Yeah,” she said. “I stopped by The Row after work.” Shopping had been much easier when she wasn’t hanging around Du Jour until midnight.

“Mm.” Vivian continued to regard her with the same intent, contemplative gaze that made Jules squirm. Then she turned to look back at the wall. “They’re reasonably flattering, but choose a less frivolous top next time.”

Jules frowned and looked at her blouse. She loved this blouse, billowy with a pattern of roses and vines. Vivian had never criticized it before. “Doesn’t it complement the structure of the pants?”

“It does,” Vivian acknowledged, “but the clash of styles is distracting—boho and contemporary often don’t mix.”

“Isn’t fashion about getting people’s attention?” Jules dared to challenge. She might be risking her life, but she hadn’t slogged through four years at Du Jour as intern and assistant to turn down the chance to talk fashion with Vivian Carlisle. That’d be like making it to the top of a Himalayan mountain, meeting the Dalai Lama there, and saying, “No, thanks, I’ve got a pretty good meditation app.”

Vivian regarded her, seeming thoughtful. After a moment, she said, “I’ve always said fashion is about two things: expression and context. As my assistant, is it your job to be flamboyant and attention seeking?”

“Um. Not exactly.” Expression and context. Jules filed that away to think about.

“Express your taste and style within the appropriate context. As you gain seniority, your scope broadens. When you’re at Simon’s level, feel free to wear feather boas. As my assistant, your job is to be chic.”

Coming from the world’s foremost fashion authority, chic suddenly seemed like a low bar. Apparently Jules couldn’t even manage that. Her shoulders slumped.

“But you’re correct,” Vivian added, “about the structure.”

Jules straightened up again. A flash of inspiration struck. “Dries van Noten! He’s doing geometric prints. The silhouettes…”

Vivian considered for a moment. Then she nodded decisively. “Broad shoulders. Small waist. Then the flare of the pants. A bold, structured pattern on the blouse that complements the trousers’ angles.” She looked at Jules’s blouse again. “Yes. It’d change the whole look.”

“Not super Katharine Hepburn-y, though,” Jules felt obliged to point out.

“Neither are you, as far as I can tell.” For a moment, Vivian seemed amused.

Hopefully that was a compliment. Perhaps she didn’t like Katharine Hepburn very much. All Jules could say was “maybe not” as she tried to figure out how to get her hands on a Dries van Noten blouse without destroying her credit limit. Time to touch base with the consignment stores again and see if any of her contacts could do her a favor.