It was not, in fact, fun.
Lunch was a silent and awkward affair. Jules had arrived about ten minutes before Vivian. It gave her enough time to drum her fingertips on the table and force herself not to look at Twitter again.
Then Vivian arrived at twelve thirty on the dot, casually elegant in slacks and a loose red blouse. Jules exhaled slowly at the sight of her. You dumbass. You’re a goner for sure.
Thankfully, no reporters had followed Vivian to the restaurant, but several patrons inside recognized her. A few even knew her, and as they stopped by the table to say hello, Jules saw the curiosity and sometimes even the glee in their eyes. They must have seen the photos too.
Vivian greeted all of them with a cold smile, and soon enough her acquaintances mumbled their farewells and left her alone.
Simon had told Jules that Vivian didn’t do “friends.” Now Jules could see why.
Core was a soothing environment, even under these circumstances. Much more chill than the pink Music Room or the golden Dorchester ballroom. The color scheme was pale mint and cream, and the furniture had pleasing contemporary lines. Jules lusted after the wooden appetizer presentation plates. It wasn’t like she cooked, but they’d look great in her kitchen. It must be nice to be able to buy stuff like this whenever you wanted.
The food was excellent too, but she couldn’t enjoy her roasted monkfish. Still trying to set a good example for Vivian, who looked less than enthused, she ate almost every bite. Eventually, Vivian managed to eat most of her food, which still wasn’t saying much, since Core was one of those restaurants that served teeny-tiny portions for outrageous sums of money.
Total rip-off. What Vivian needed was an Olive Garden. Jules tried to imagine her in one and almost choked on her ice water.
“What is it?” Vivian asked as she set her fork down.
“Nothing.” She dabbed her napkin over her mouth. “Just swallowed the wrong way.”
Vivian glared. “No, you thought of something funny. I can always tell with you. What are you laughing at?”
I can always tell with you? Please, please let that only be when Jules was thinking funny thoughts and not lustful ones.
“Because,” Vivian continued, “I don’t see that there’s much to laugh at today.”
Oh, so she wanted to get huffy. Jules couldn’t blame her—when you were in a bad mood, sometimes you just wanted to lash out. And Vivian had plenty of reasons to be in a bad mood, but she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to put up with bullshit today.
“Okay, fine.” Jules put down her napkin with a little more firmness than necessary. “I was imagining taking you to an Olive Garden with a ton of food instead of a fancy restaurant, and it seemed like a funny idea. That’s all.”
Vivian looked at her as if she weren’t sure Olive Gardens existed, much less that Jules would ever go to one. “‘Taking me’ to an Olive Garden?”
The emphasis in her words left no doubt as to what she objected to the most. Jules’s face scalded. Why had she phrased it like that, like it would be a date or something? You idiot. “I know it’s ridiculous. That’s why it made me laugh.”
Vivian flagged down their server for the check. “It must be nice to be easily amused. You make your own entertainment.”
“I wasn’t trying to be insensitive,” Jules said. “I know this publicity is bad.”
There was an awkward pause. The server arrived, and Vivian said nothing until he’d departed again. Then she sighed. “You think this is bad?”
“It’s not great, is it?”
“It could be worse. It will be”—Vivian gestured vaguely at her abdomen—“once this news gets out. Just wait.”
“It isn’t just that,” Jules blurted out. “How would you like being called ‘lowly’?”
A baffled expression crossed Vivian’s face. “What?”
Shoot. Jules hadn’t meant to mention that. Compared to Vivian, she was getting off comically easy here. The caption hadn’t even mentioned her name.
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Clearly it isn’t. Spit it out.”
No getting out of it now. Jules sighed and crossed her arms. “The website called me your ‘lowly assistant.’”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice of them.”
“I know it isn’t a big deal,” Jules said through gritted teeth. “I just—”
“You don’t get anywhere by worrying about the tabloids. They’ll say what they say. What matters is that you know the truth about yourself.” Vivian placed her napkin on the table with a snap. “And if you think you’re lowly after all this, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
Good thing she didn’t say anything else because Jules’s ears started buzzing. Had that been a compliment? It sure sounded like one.
“Uh, yeah. Th-thank you for lunch,” she stammered as she took out her phone. “I’ll text Jimmy to get us.”
“You do that. And then confirm our flight home.”
Jules blinked. “What? You know I’m not on your flight, right?”
Vivian looked at her with wide eyes. Clearly she had not known that.
Dammit. “When I bought my ticket, they copied you on my itinerary. At least they were supposed to.”
“Why aren’t we on the same flight?” Vivian looked like she was getting ready to throw a pretty spectacular tantrum.
“It was full! The only flight I could get was tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
This wasn’t going well. Think fast. “Yes, but that’s good, right? It means I’ll get back a day earlier and I can take care of things before you arrive. Right?”
Vivian did not look one jot less outraged.
“Did you really not get my itinerary?” Jules said.
“I didn’t look at it,” Vivian growled. “I assumed you’d know to accompany me home.”
Jules took a deep breath and prayed for patience. “Vivian, your flight was full. Completely full. I didn’t think one day would make any difference.”
Vivian opened her mouth.
“I’ve got everything lined up for you,” Jules added. “There’ll be porters waiting to take your bags at the airport, and you’ll get priority boarding. And the VIP lounge. And Ben will be waiting to pick you up at JFK. You won’t need me for anything.” She tried a cajoling smile. “I even told the girl at the VIP lounge to have decaf waiting when you get there.”
Vivian set her jaw mulishly but said nothing else until they got into the car and Jimmy pulled away from the curb. Then she growled, “Don’t do this again.”
Saying she’d had no choice would be pointless. “Of course,” she sighed.
“I’ve decided on Lucia’s replacement,” Vivian said, changing the subject as if they hadn’t talked about airplanes at all. “Call Simon as soon as we’re home.”
“Okay.” When Vivian said nothing else, Jules added, “Which one did you pick?”
Vivian blinked and shook her head slightly as if she were coming out of a reverie. “The least appalling. The one from Elle.”
Simon’s pick, then. Jules was relieved.
“Judging from her application,” Vivian added, glancing down and adjusting her glove, “she would be absolutely delighted to work with me.”
Jules bit her lip to repress a grin. “Work with?” she said, trying to sound polite.
“I’m glad you understand these things, Julia.” Vivian settled back against her seat with just the hint of a smile.