Chapter Twenty-Seven
Saskia
Kivi stopped mid-flow.
Thank God for that. Saskia's wrath tended to do that to people: take the wind out of their sails and render them mute, normally through sheer terror. The trouble was, once she got started, she had difficulty stopping. As was the case now.
“You're an intelligent woman, Kivi. Surely you realise that very few people are the same at thirty as they are at thirteen. I made a mistake – several mistakes – but I am not that person now.”
“What, so you did a complete one-eighty, did you?” Kivi's face wrinkled in scorn. Back on her feet and ready to continue fighting. “Went from raging homophobe to loving ally overnight? You expect me to believe that?”
“I do, because it’s the honest fucking truth.” Saskia's words spat out of her like bullets. “It didn't happen quite overnight, but my thoughts changed quite drastically when half my family came out as bisexual.”
“Half your family? Don't exaggerate.”
“Well, my mum and my brother. They're about the only people I regard as family.”
“They both came out to you?” Kivi still didn't look convinced. “At the same time? Knowing how… against them you were?”
“I don't think it was exactly the plan. But they did. And it forced me to think, properly think, for probably the first time in my entire life.”
“And? What thoughts went through your head? ‘Oh, I get it now: gay people are actually human beings, just like straight people!’”
“I'm not going to explain my exact thought processing to you.” Mostly because it was linked to her father, and they were not going into that.
“You don't have the right to know.” Damn it, she could feel herself clamming up.
This was how it went with her - if she felt attacked, she either lashed out or went incommunicado.
It seemed that both were happening here.
“Look, can't you just trust me? I'm not homophobic any more. I'm an ally. I'm a good person. And I-”
I think I've actually got feelings for you, she didn't say. She stopped herself just in time.
“I wish I could trust you,” Kivi sighed. “But I think I'm just too much of a cynic. I think it would be a good idea if you left the wedding planning to me.”
“What?” Saskia felt her face heating up. “But that's absurd.”
“Is it? Is it absurd not to want a reformed homophobe handling what could potentially be a very tricky gay wedding?”
“Yes, because I've changed,” Saskia spat. “I don't know how many different ways I can find to say it. Have you seriously never said something you've regretted?”
“On impulse, yes.” Now Kivi's eyes were actually glittering. “That was not impulse. That was a systematic, calculated campaign against people who are just trying to live their lives and love who they love. And I can't be associated with someone who did that. However long ago.”
Part of being in a high-powered job was knowing when you were fighting a losing battle.
A lot of people were surprised to learn that – after all, conceding hardly went hand-in-hand with power.
But the way Saskia saw it: what was the point in wasting your breath arguing when the other person had already made up their mind?
That didn't stop Kivi's words cutting her deep, though.
“Well then.” Saskia took a deep breath, and stood up. “I guess that's all there is to say. When do you want me out?”
“What?”
“Of the guest house. It'll have to be tomorrow; I won't be able to find anywhere else at this late hour.
I assume you'll organise some sort of partial refund?
Although I don't suppose you've ever had a situation like this before – you can't have done, because then how would you even have a business-”
“Saskia!”
Kivi stood up, and suddenly Saskia was aware of just how close they were standing. She must have moved forward while talking without realising. In fact, Kivi was so close to her, all it would take was for one of them to lean in and-
“I don't want you to leave,” Kivi said quietly. Saskia barely heard her over the thudding of her heartbeat in her ears.
“What?” she murmured in response. It seemed to be all either of them were saying tonight.
“I don't want you to leave,” Kivi said. “The wedding, perhaps, but not the guest house. I've… become rather more attached to you than I expected.”
Attached. Like Saskia was some sort of sentimental childhood teddy bear. But the worst part? Saskia would take it. Hell, she would welcome it. Anything to be close to this woman. Any excuse to stay in this adorable chocolate box of a village.
Oh, fuck.
“But you…” Saskia swallowed. “You said you don't want to be associated with me.”
“Professionally,” Kivi said, and stepped away. Saskia felt the loss as keenly as if Kivi had wrenched her arm clean off. “If what you've said came out, it could reflect badly on everyone around you. Cancel culture. If you were seen to endorse my business…”
That seemed rather far-fetched, but Saskia got where she was coming from.
The public and the media could be utterly rabid when it came to things they didn’t like.
It wouldn’t matter how long ago the things were said, or whether they’d come from the brain of an irrational teenager.
It wouldn’t matter how much she had changed.
And no, she wasn’t exactly a celebrity, but she was famous enough to have a Wikipedia page and half a million followers collectively on her social medias.
It could cause an international pile-on.
And depending on how angry people were… it wasn’t inconceivable that they could come for the people and businesses around her too.
“Guess I’ll have to take you out of my article, then,” Saskia said with a dry laugh. “I was planning on dropping your business name in there. It’s a shame. It could have been a good way for you to boost your brand.”
Kivi pursed her lips, and said what had clearly been on her mind from the very beginning. “Can’t you just delete the posts? Or the whole account?”
“I’m locked out,” Saskia said. “And efforts to contact their support team have been fruitless. Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s one of the things I’m most anxious about… having those posts leaked. I’m so ashamed.”
“Just as well it’s difficult to link them to you,” Kivi said. “I only realised because I scrolled down far enough on Images, and your profile picture was there.”
“You scrolled down far enough on Images, huh?” Saskia’s mouth twitched. “What were you looking for?”
Kivi went red, evidently having realised what she’d said. Saskia felt her own smile spread, then decided to be merciful. The conversation was only just taking a positive turn – she didn’t want to push it the other way again. Quit while you’re ahead.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said, rising from the chair. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening any more than necessary.”
“It was necessary,” Kivi shrugged. “I didn’t exactly go about this in the best way.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Saskia’s tone would have been a bit more biting, but she was concentrating on trying to fold up the chair. “How do you collapse this bloody thing?”
“Leave it,” Kivi waved a hand. “I’ll do it later. Actually…” Now she turned and actually looked at Saskia. They both paused, and it alarmed Saskia how much she wanted to reach for her.
“Yes?” Her voice came out in almost a whimper. What the fuck?
“Why don’t you stay? Have a beer with me? Again?”
Sorry, what?
But Kivi was being deadly serious. Saskia could tell from her expression.
“Um… okay.”
Kivi smiled, and Saskia couldn’t imagine anything further away from the cold expression she’d worn only a few minutes ago. “Great. I’ll go get you one.”
Talk about a complete one-hundred-and-eighty…