Yeah, right. If Vivian believed that, Jules would sell every pair of shoes she owned. “Okay.”

“What do you think he’s up to? He wants to keep an eye on me. I lied and said I’d been planning to come here for months. If there’s anything worse than spending the holidays by yourself, it’s spending them with people who hate you.”

Her tone had been indifferent, but she’d just answered one of Jules’s burning questions nevertheless. Vivian thought that being alone during the holidays blew. And here Jules was, not running herself into the ground with work but joining Vivian at meals and sleeping in her spare room.

It should have seemed pathetic. Who didn’t have enough friends that they had to make a PA hang out with them on Christmas night? This was even worse than Simon had led Jules to believe.

She couldn’t point fingers. Yes, she had a loving family, but Vivian clearly didn’t, and Jules didn’t have many friends of her own. Not anymore. She didn’t have time to get close to many people at work, and during the last couple of years, chats with college friends had become rarer and rarer. As for high school buddies, forget it. Everyone was a different person now.

In Vivian’s place, Jules would have been, well, in Vivian’s place. That was a sucky place to be.

“I’m glad you didn’t go with him,” she said. “Sounds like it would have been awful.”

“Oh, thank you for approving, Julia.” She looked at the Christmas pudding on Jules’s plate. “You know, you’re supposed to warm that up first and then set it on fire.”

Jules’s fork hovered over the pudding. “What?”

“With brandy,” Vivian clarified. “It’s traditional.”

Jules looked at one of the burning candles.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vivian said.

“I like traditional. And they stocked the liquor cabinet.”

Vivian sat back and crossed her arms. “Now, this I have to see.”

Jules looked back defiantly. “I bet it’ll be delicious.”

* * *

At least the smoke alarm hadn’t gone off.

Jules looked dolefully at the charred husk of her dessert. Her heart still raced from how fast the pudding had gone up in flames. Maybe she’d been too heavy-handed with the brandy.

Luckily, Vivian had quick reflexes and her water glass had been nearly full. Now Jules was left with pudding that was both soggy and scorched.

“It’s not too bad this way,” Vivian said, and popped in another mouthful of her own unburned, unsoaked pudding.

“At least I tried,” Jules muttered.

“Mm-hmm.” Vivian swallowed and pushed her plate toward Jules. Over half of her own serving remained. “Here.”

Jules looked at her in shock.

Vivian returned the look tranquilly, amusement unmistakable in her eyes. Maybe it was her way of thanking Jules for the entertainment.