Sleep was a long time coming, though. And when Jules did sleep, she dreamed about weird, improbable things involving Vivian and the lost, lonely look on her face. That look was awful, and Jules wanted to make it go away, to make it better.

So she reached out and touched Vivian’s cheek and watched her close her eyes and turn her face into Jules’s palm as if she wanted to hide there. Jules’s heart squeezed in a way that was both painful and good.

Vivian said nothing but kept her eyes closed. Jules rubbed her cheekbone with her thumb.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Thank God something was open in London on Christmas.

Jules had worried, but a quick Google search showed her that the Ritz wasn’t the only fancy place serving meals today—not by a long shot. She’d skimmed over the options and now found herself waiting for her takeaway order at the Ham Yard Hotel near Piccadilly Circus.

“That’s right,” she told the clerk. “One order of roast duck and one of turkey.”

The clerk looked at his notes. “Plus carrot terrine?”

“Plus that,” she confirmed.

“And one order of our Christmas pudding.”

“Yup. I’ve never had Christmas pudding.” Jules handed over the company credit card. Let Vivian explain this one to the expense department.

“You’re in for a treat, then. Be right back.” The clerk headed behind the stone-patterned bar to the cash register.

Jules took a moment to look around at the decorations and the festively dressed patrons, who seemed to be having a much more normal Christmas than she was. Well, if nothing else, she was going to have a traditional Christmas dinner, even if it was the British variation. No cardamom cream or whatever: she was talking turkey.

If anyone had asked her a month ago whether she’d dream of stuffing her face in front of Vivian Carlisle, much less asking Vivian to join her, she’d have laughed in that person’s face. But if Jules couldn’t be with her family today, she was at least going to have this.

So would Vivian. She might not like Christmas, but she’d have a taste of it. Something to make Christmas be…okay, as Jules had promised in her dream.

“You dumbass,” she growled to herself, but her spirits still rose when the clerk handed her two paper bags full of Christmas fare. The food smelled wonderful, and Jules’s stomach growled. Time to get home and eat.