“Hmm.” She leaned back, not seeming angry at all. She looked over Jules’s head at the ceiling and drummed her fingers on the desk. “I’m disappointed.”

Jules’s heart raced in panic. “I’m sorry. But I didn’t tell him.”

“I meant in Simon,” Vivian’s voice went almost gentle, a tone Jules had never heard her use before. “Not in you.”

“Oh,” she said after a moment of surprised silence.

“He asked you, not me. Why do you think that is?”

What a strange question. Was Jules expected to know the intricacies of Vivian and Simon’s relationship? “I don’t know.”

Vivian gave her a hooded look. “No? You worked for him for some time.”

Jules took a deep breath. “I guess he trusts me.”

“And should he? Is that wise of him?”

A few months ago, Jules would have said “Sure.” Not because she was working for Simon but because she considered herself a trustworthy person. Trustworthy and loyal. Now she understood that was a good thing—in the hands of the right person.

“I don’t think he’ll ask me again,” she said.

Would Vivian hear what she was really saying? You can trust me, Vivian. I’m yours now.

Wait, that wasn’t how she meant to put it, even in her own head. I work for you now. That was it.

Vivian gave her a long look. then followed it up with a slight nod, as if she’d heard it after all. “Call my driver. Let’s go home.”

Jules closed her eyes in gratitude. Excellent. She’d made it out of this conversation alive. Plus, it was ten thirty-five and they were on their way out the door. That hadn’t happened in ages.

Jules called Ben, then happily followed Vivian to the elevators. Time to rush to the subway.

But when they got outside, Vivian pointed to the car. “Get in.”

Jules looked at her, startled, before obeying. Yes, Vivian had given her a ride home once. She’d thought it had been a one-time thing after Vivian’s shocking discovery. But tonight it was business as usual as Vivian rattled off a litany of instructions to be fulfilled tomorrow when they arrived at work. Tonight, when they pulled up to her house, Vivian told Jules, “Ben will pick you up at seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re ready to go.”

“What?”

But Vivian had already exited the car and was heading into her house. As she left, Jules heard her murmur something to Ben.

Ben closed Vivian’s door. Jules met his gaze in the rearview mirror when he returned to his seat. “Where are you supposed to take me tomorrow morning?”

“Du Jour,” he said patiently. “Where else? Well, after we pick her up, of course.”

She looked at the back of his head, unable to speak for a full thirty seconds. Then she managed, “Huh?”