He snorted. “That’ll be the day. It’s not how she thinks. I promise you, we’ll just all watch her expand and say nothing until the kid’s actually in a bassinet.” He checked his watch. “We still have fifteen minutes. I’d say you’ve more than earned it. Finish up your drink, but take your time.”

Jules took another sip, then a horrible thought occurred to her. “She’s not going to tell anyone at the office? I’m going to be the only person who officially knows?”

“Quite possibly.”

“Then I’m going to keep doing everything myself?” Jules hadn’t expected that. She’d planned on keeping this secret until Vivian chose for it not to be a secret anymore. Then other people would step forward and help. Jules would no longer be a lone ranger but instead part of some kind of fetching-and-carrying network with other peons. She couldn’t be the only peon.

“What’s ‘everything’?” he inquired, looking genuinely interested. “What have you been doing for her?”

“Her food,” Jules whimpered. “The doctors and the lawyers, and I’ve been reading stuff about babies, and she sent me to Givenchy, and she told me she’s from Ohio—”

Simon stared at her. “She is?”

“You didn’t know?”

He grinned. “She told me she was from North Stamford.”

“Oh no.” Jules hid her face in her hands. “Simon—”

“Relax. It’s not like I ever bought it. ‘Vivian Carlisle’ isn’t even her real name.”

“It’s not?” Simon had never divulged this kind of intelligence when Jules had worked for him. “What is it?”

“How should I know? I didn’t even know where she was from. But it’s not Vivian Carlisle, I can tell you that.” He gave her a half smile. “If anyone’s in a position to find out, apparently it’s you. You’ll let me know if you learn anything, right?”

“Ha, ha, ha.” She took another big swallow of her stupid orange drink that she didn’t even like. Too sour. “Don’t change the subject. What am I supposed to do? She doesn’t have anyone but me.”

He looked at her in silence.

“No, really,” she said softly. “She doesn’t. It’s—”

“I guess that answers my question about Robert,” he said.

This time, Jules let her head fall all the way down until it hit the table.

Simon reached across and patted her shoulder. “Don’t take it so hard. I’m sure with some practice you’ll develop that thing called caution.”

“Why, though?” she asked, the wood table cool against her forehead. “Why isn’t there anybody else?” She looked up again pleadingly. There had to be a reason she was the one Vivian had FaceTimed in the middle of the night. “Why aren’t there any friends? Or are there? Maybe she’s talking to friends and I just don’t know about it.”