An image flashed into her mind, one of her standing before Vivian in this darkened room wearing a low-cut red jumpsuit while Vivian looked her up and down.

A rush of heat to her face almost made her gasp aloud. What the fuck…

“No. I don’t want to see it until New Year’s. Take a risk on it. Is there something about ‘challenging’ you don’t understand?”

“No!” Damn, that had come out sharp. “I mean, no. But what if I look bad, or…embarrass you, or—”

Vivian gave Jules a scornful look. “You might embarrass yourself. I promise you I won’t be bothered one way or the other.”

Wow, really? Jules glared at her.

Vivian glared right back. “Own your decisions, Julia. You don’t truly care what people think. Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

“I don’t care about me,” Jules snapped. “I care about”—she almost said you—“the reputation of the magazine. I work at Du Jour. I can’t show up looking awful.”

“If you look awful, I’ll leave you at home,” Vivian said dryly. “Does that ease your mind?”

“Yes, actually.” Jules had originally wanted a nice quiet New Year’s. Not one where she got dressed up and had to fake-smile at rich people she didn’t know. The thought was exhausting, even if she was going to look good.

Maybe Vivian sensed this because she glared again. This time, Jules just tried to look innocent.

“I’m so sorry,” Vivian said much too sweetly. “Did you have wild, exciting plans for New Year’s in Pennsylvania? Did I interrupt your social whirl?”

“I was going to be back in New York by then.” Another wave of fatigue washed over her. Jules yawned before she could help herself. “So,” she mumbled around it, “unless you count maybe hanging out with Ben, I guess I didn’t have any—”

Vivian blinked. “Ben?”

“Yeah. Ben.”

Vivian looked blank.

“Your driver,” Jules prompted, deciding not to clarify with for the last five years.

“What about Ben?” Vivian’s brow drew down alarmingly and her voice got sharp.

Why did she look so pissed? “He sort of mentioned…I guess we might have gone out for a beer or something.”

“My driver asked you out on a date?”

“What? No! I mean, he didn’t actually say—”

“Do you have any idea how unprofessional that is?”

“Oh, my God.” Jules’s heart started to race again at Vivian’s scowl. She tried to laugh. “No, it wasn’t like that. It was just, you know, a buddy thing.”

“Oh yes, Julia. I’m sure men invite you to bars all the time so they can be your ‘buddy.’”

Jules’s cheeks scalded.

“That kind of fraternization is completely inappropriate. Nip it in the bud, or I will.” Vivian frowned. “I’m surprised at you.”