Jules grabbed her own coat and bag and followed at top speed.

Footsteps followed them both. Jules looked over her shoulder, half-terrified that an enraged Robert was pursuing Vivian. But it was Preston, and he called out, “Vivian!”

Vivian whirled on her heel. The snarl on her face made her look like an animal. A wounded one, caught in a trap.

“Everything,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “We take him for everything he’s got. Do you understand?”

Preston pulled his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and mopped his forehead with it. “The pre-nup—”

“And fire that fucking secretary.” She headed off without another word.

Preston opened his mouth again. Before she could stop herself, Jules pressed her hand to his elbow and said urgently, “Not now!” Then she followed Vivian, who was already at the elevators.

One look at her face told Jules that they would not be sharing an elevator for the trip down, and she focused on the marble tiles as the brass door slid shut between them.

She caught the next car and called for Ben. “Please hurry,” she begged. “Oh my God, she is not going to want to wait.”

“Jules, are you okay?” He sounded alarmed.

“No,” she wailed and ended the call. By the time she reached the lobby, Vivian was waiting by the glass revolving door, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows and obviously seeing nothing.

Jules took a deep breath, prayed for courage, and went to stand next to her, not daring to speak.

Vivian didn’t move until her Audi pulled up at the sidewalk. Then she broke out of her reverie long enough to tell Jules: “Find a clinic. A decent one. By tomorrow.”

It took Jules a second to figure out what she meant. Then she swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Not a word to anyone. Not one word.”

“I won’t. I haven’t. To anybody.”

Vivian went to the waiting car. To Jules’s surprise, she waved Ben off and held the car door open for her but did not get inside herself. “Go back to Du Jour. I’m walking.”

What? Where was she walking? Home? Well, they were already in the Upper West Side, so she could manage it if she wanted to, although Jules didn’t envy her the task in those shoes. Or was she going somewhere else? Maybe she just wanted to keep moving without any destination in mind.

It wasn’t Jules’s business. She wasn’t supposed to care.

“Okay,” she said. “I-I’ll be at Givenchy with Lucia, if you need…”

“I know.” Vivian walked away.

Jules remained still for a few moments, then got into the car.

Ben pulled away. Jules looked back through the rear window, watching Vivian until she vanished completely into the crowd.

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

At her desk, Jules took a deep breath, turned the browser’s privacy mode on, and started poking around the internet for reputable abortion clinics in Manhattan.