Vivian regarded her for a long moment. “You do pay attention to things,” she said eventually. “I’ve noticed that.”

Jules’s job was about paying attention, noting the minutiae of what each day needed. But that was every PA’s job. Vivian meant it in a different way. It wasn’t totally clear how, but Jules dared to glow anyway.

“You handled yourself well,” Vivian said absently.

That wasn’t how Jules remembered it. “I did?”

“Once you got past your history lesson, yes.” As Jules cringed, Vivian waved her hand. “Talking to Helga Schumann is an Olympic trial in patience. Nobody likes her. You did better with the people who mattered.”

Jules’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad.”

She didn’t seem to care whether Jules was glad or not. She turned to look out her window.

Jules should do the same. She was on her first trip to London and hadn’t once taken the time to look at her surroundings. It was a city she’d always wanted to visit.

But for some reason, when she tried to focus on the scenery, she couldn’t take any of it in. She remembered the air kiss Vivian had given her. Her cheeks burned again, and she wondered if she’d fallen into some alternate dimension.

“Now,” Vivian said out of nowhere, “we need to discuss tomorrow.”

Oh. Right. Jules was here to work. She pulled out her phone. “Do you want me to schedule a meeting with someone?”

“Why would I want that?”

She blinked at Vivian, who frowned right back.

“Then…um, what do you want?”

“It’s dinner at the Chislehursts’,” she replied slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. “Don’t you remember? That’s what’s on the schedule for tomorrow. The only thing. I had to give up my Christmas Day to a bunch of sharks. Is it asking too much that I get the day after—one single day—for myself? What are you staring at?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. What?” Jules pushed a stray curl out of her face, knowing she’d narrowed her eyes in disbelief. “You don’t have anything for me to do tomorrow?”

Vivian had called her way the hell out here, and there wasn’t even anything for Jules to do? Was she out of her mind?

“Did I say that?” Vivian examined Jules’s outfit. “That skirt’s all right, but you’ll want a different top for the evening. Lady Chislehurst is obsessed with formalities, but you’ll never meet a better canapé in your life. I repeat, what are you staring at?”