Chapter Thirteen
Victoria was staring at her laptop screen when Sasha came in.
Though she'd been reading the same rejection email for the past ten minutes without absorbing a word of it.
She'd received three similar messages today, each one a small death by a thousand corporate cuts, along with notification that next week’s interview with Pemberton Associates had been canceled due to "restructuring priorities. "
Which was business-speak for "we've found someone better and can't be bothered to waste an hour pretending otherwise."
She closed her laptop with more force than necessary, the sharp snap echoing in the quiet room.
Through her window, she could see the last of the evening light fading over the gardens, where Lukas was securing climbing roses against their supports with the sort of methodical care that suggested he actually enjoyed his work.
Unlike Victoria, whose career was apparently dissolving like sugar in rain.
"Not time to change for dinner already, is it?" she said, feeling oddly slightly better with Sasha in the room.
Sasha was still in her gardening clothes from the afternoon. There was a smudge of soil on her cheek that was unreasonably charming, and her hair was escaping from its ponytail in golden wisps that caught the lamplight.
"Yeah, sorry," Sasha said, moving over to where her suitcase sat. "Time goes fast here, doesn’t it?" She didn’t wait for a response, pulling out a sweet sundress that Victoria thought might show the curve of her cleavage more than she might be ready to deal with. "That Sophie’s an odd duck, isn’t she? "
"Sophie?" Victoria said, trying not to look at the sundress. "What makes you say that?"
"Dunno," shrugged Sasha. "She's just… been acting rather mysterious, hasn't she?"
Victoria considered this, turning away from her small worktable to give Sasha her full attention. "Sophie's always been secretive. Comes with being the baby of the family, I suppose. There's such a gap between her and the rest of us that she's practically an only child most of the time."
"That must be lonely."
"Probably. We were all so much older when she came along that she might as well have been raised by different parents entirely.
" Victoria had often wondered how her baby sister’s childhood could have been so different from her own.
"I was seventeen when she was born, practically grown.
Ambrose was thirteen, Archie eighteen. By the time she was old enough to be interesting conversation, we were all off at university or starting careers. "
"She seems… wise beyond her years, maybe?"
"She is. Sometimes I think she sees things more clearly than any of us." Victoria paused, studying Sasha's face. "She certainly saw through you and Ambrose quickly enough."
"God, yes. That was embarrassing." Sasha laughed, but there was something careful in her expression. "Though I suppose it's hard to fool someone who's watching from the outside."
"Sophie's always been observant. Probably learned that keeping secrets is easier than trying to get our attention when we're all so wrapped up in our own dramas.
" Victoria shifted in her chair, acutely aware of how the light played across Sasha's features.
"She's probably got half a dozen projects going that none of us know about.
Secret diaries, mysterious pen pals, elaborate plans for world domination. "
"The last one wouldn't surprise me. She's got that strategic look about her."
"Mmm. Why do you ask about her, anyway?"
"Just curious. She's an interesting kid.
Reminds me a bit of myself at that age, actually.
Always watching, always trying to figure out how the adults were managing to make such a mess of everything.
" Sasha was studying Victoria's face with those disconcertingly green eyes.
"Are you alright? You seem a bit… um, tense. "
"I'm fine," Victoria said automatically, the response so practiced it came out without thought.
"Are you? Because you've been hiding in here for most of the afternoon, and you looked rather murderous at lunch. Like you were planning Georgina's demise between bites of sandwich."
Victoria forced a smile. "Just tired. Work's been demanding lately."
"Mmm." Sasha didn't look convinced, tilting her head like a bird considering a particularly interesting insect. "Georgina was certainly something yesterday, wasn't she? All that talk about modernizing the estate. I thought your father might spontaneously combust right there at the table."
"She's exactly Archie's type, unfortunately.
Beautiful, enthusiastic, and completely wrong for him in every possible way.
" Victoria found herself relaxing slightly despite her mood, drawn into the conversation.
"He has an uncanny ability to find women who are fundamentally incompatible with everything he claims to value. "
"Poor Cathy looked like she wanted to strangle her with a rose stem when Georgina started talking about replacing the heritage roses with 'something more modern.'"
"Can you blame her? Georgina was practically planning to turn the place into a lifestyle magazine shoot. All surface and no substance." Victoria shook her head. "Did you see her face when Grandmother mentioned the library?"
"Mmmm, not terribly sure she can read," Sasha grinned, and Victoria felt that familiar flutter in her stomach. "But to be honest, your grandmother can be quite terrifying, poor Georgie might just have been intimidated."
"Grandmama’s had decades of practice intimidating inappropriate girlfriends. It's practically an art form at this point." Victoria paused. "Though I suspect she rather enjoyed watching Georgina flounder. Grandmother does appreciate a good intellectual bloodsport."
"Still, I suppose Archie’s doing slightly better than Ambrose. At least he brings his dates to the table," sighed Sasha.
"Ambrose… has problems being himself sometimes. Lack of confidence, I think. Second son syndrome and all that. Not that I'm judging. I just worry he's going to get himself into trouble."
"Trouble how?"
"Oh, you know. Getting too attached, expecting too much from what's essentially a holiday romance." The words felt hypocritical even as she said them, given her own increasingly complicated feelings. "Ambrose has a tendency to fall hard and fast, and it doesn't always end well."
Sasha was quiet for a moment, something unreadable passing across her face. Then she stepped forward. "Victoria, are you really alright? You've seemed on edge ever since we arrived, but today especially. You're wound tight as a spring."
"I told you, I'm fine." She stood up, began gathering her things to put them away.
"You keep saying that, but…" Sasha hesitated, then seemed to make a decision.
"Look, I know we don't know each other very well, but you can talk to me if something's wrong.
I'm quite good at listening, and I promise I won't judge. Or offer unsolicited advice. Or try to fix everything immediately. Best I can do is sympathize, it’s not like I’ve got my own shit together, is it? "
Victoria looked at her, taking in the genuine concern in her expression. When was the last time someone had simply asked how she was and waited for a real answer?
"Work's been…" she began, then stopped, the words catching in her throat like they were too big to speak aloud.
"Challenging?" Sasha prompted gently.
"Challenging. Yes." Victoria let out a shaky breath. "The industry's changing, priorities are shifting. Nothing's as secure as it used to be. People who've been with their firms for decades are suddenly finding themselves… surplus to requirements."
"That must be frightening."
"I don't get frightened," Victoria said automatically.
"Right," Sasha said, looking not at all convinced.
"Everything’s fine."
"Right," Sasha said again. She took another step forward.
Victoria swallowed because Sasha was close. Too close. The kind of close that a person shouldn’t be, not if they weren’t going to… do something about it.
"You know," Sasha said softly, "perfect is wildly overrated. Just in case you needed to hear that."
"I… don't. I’m perfectly aware of that, it just doesn’t apply. I am perfect. And I don’t make mistakes."
"Everyone makes mistakes, Victoria. It's what makes us human instead of robots."
"Not me. I plan everything, research everything, make lists and contingency plans and backup contingency plans." Victoria felt tears threatening and blinked them back fiercely. She did not cry. She certainly didn't cry in front of relative strangers.
"Ah, I see. That’s my mistake then," Sasha said, reaching out to touch her hand.
The contact sparked, sending warmth shooting up Victoria's arm and straight to her chest. Sasha's fingers were cool against her skin, callused from the garden work but gentle, and when Victoria looked up, she found green eyes watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.
"Victoria," Sasha said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes?"
"I'm going to do something that's probably a terrible idea."
"What—"
Before Victoria could finish the question, Sasha was leaning forward, closing the distance between them with deliberate care. Their lips met softly at first, tentative, questioning, like Sasha was asking permission for something Victoria hadn't realized she'd been waiting for.
Then Victoria's brain stopped working entirely and she was kissing back, her hand coming up to cup Sasha's face, fingers threading through silky blonde hair that was even softer than she'd imagined.
The kiss deepened, became urgent, desperate, like they were trying to make up for days of careful politeness and measured distance.
Sasha tasted like tea and summer air and something indefinably sweet, and Victoria felt like she was drowning in sensation. She pulled Sasha closer, needing more contact, more of everything, her free hand finding the curve of Sasha's waist, the warmth of her through the thin cotton of her shirt.
Sasha's hands tangled in Victoria's hair, and she made a soft sound against her mouth that sent heat pooling low in Victoria's stomach, made her forget entirely where they were, who they were supposed to be, why this was impossible.
This was madness. This was exactly what she shouldn't be doing. This was perfect.
"Victoria, love, are you decent?"
Ambrose's voice from the hallway cut through the haze. Victoria jerked away from Sasha, her heart hammering against her ribs as reality crashed back down around her.
Sasha was supposed to be dating Ambrose.
Sasha was here as her brother's girlfriend, fake or not.
And Victoria was supposed to be the responsible one, the sensible one, the one who didn't complicate family gatherings with inappropriate romantic entanglements that could blow up in everyone's faces. The one who didn’t complicate life with romantic entanglements, for that matter.
"Victoria, wait… "
She took a breath. "No, this was… this was a mistake. A moment of weakness." She took a step back, putting as much distance between them as the room would allow. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… you're here with Ambrose, and I have more important things to worry about than…"
"Than what?" Sasha's voice was quiet.
"Than romantic complications," Victoria finished, the words tasting like ash in her mouth even as she forced them out.
Sasha stared at her for a long moment, a look passing across her face. Her lips were swollen from kissing, her hair mussed from Victoria's fingers, and Victoria had to clench her fists to keep from reaching for her again.
"Right," Sasha said finally, her voice steady but cool. "Romantic complications. Wouldn't want those to interfere with anything important."
She turned and left without another word, and Victoria sank back onto her bed, touching her lips with shaking fingers. She could still taste Sasha on her mouth, could still feel the ghost of her touch burning through her clothes.
Outside in the hallway, she could hear Ambrose's voice, low and concerned, though she couldn't make out the words over the sound of her own thundering heartbeat.
Victoria buried her face in her hands and wondered what the hell she'd just done, and whether there was any way to undo it before everything fell completely apart.