"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 youreally 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.
