"Don't you think, Victoria?"
Victoria blinked. "Sorry?"
"The arrangements for the house party," her mother said patiently. "You agree we should set up on the south lawn?"
"Yes. Absolutely. South lawn." She had no idea what she was agreeing to.
Ambrose kicked her under the table. She kicked him back and scowled. He grinned at her and ostentatiously draped an arm around Sasha’s shoulder in a way that made Victoria very much want to punch her brother.
"Well," Liza was saying brightly, apparently unaware that she'd just committed social suicide, "I'm sure whatever you decide will be lovely. Though if you want any help with modernizing things, I've got loads of ideas. My flat in London is very minimalist. Very now."
"How nice," Lady Alexandra said, in a tone that suggested it was anything but.
The rest of dinner passed painfully slowly. Victoria managed to eat without choking, though she couldn't have said what any of the courses were. She was too aware of Sasha sitting across from her, too conscious of every movement, every laugh, every time those green eyes flickered in her direction.
This was getting out of hand. She needed to focus on her career, on finding a new job, on rebuilding the perfect life that had just collapsed. She didn't need complications. She certainly didn't need to be obsessing over her brother's fake girlfriend like some sort of… fool. Idiot. Hormonal teen.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out discreetly, glancing at the screen under the table.
Subject: Re: Senior Investment Manager Position
Her stomach clenched. She'd been waiting for this one. Henderson Associates. The role had been perfect, exactly what she'd been looking for.
Dear Ms. Sullivan, Thank you for your interest in the Senior Investment Manager position. Unfortunately, after careful consideration…
She stopped reading. She knew how these emails went. The polite rejection, the "we were impressed by your credentials but," the "we wish you the best in your future endeavors."
Four phone interviews this week. Four rejections. What was going on? What was she doing wrong? She’d literally never been in this position before. And worse, she had no idea how to change anything. What if this was what her life was now? Anendless parade of failures. What if she’d used up all her luck, all her goldenness, and now she was doomed to…
Her breath was coming faster, too fast. She swallowed, calmed herself, slipped the phone back into her pocket and reached for her wine glass, only to find it empty. Probably for the best. The last thing she needed was to get drunk at family dinner and do something spectacularly stupid.
Like kiss Sasha in front of everyone.
Like kiss Sasha period.
"Are you alright?" Sasha's voice cut through her thoughts. "You look a bit pale."
Victoria glanced up to find Sasha watching her with concern, those green eyes seeing far too much.
"I'm fine," she said automatically.
"Are you sure? Because you seem—"
"I'm fine." Victoria pushed back from the table. "Just tired. I think I'll turn in early again."
"Victoria, darling, you've barely touched your dessert," her mother protested.
"Not very hungry. Sorry. Things are… busy at work. Lots to do, unfortunately." It was an excuse they’d all heard so often before that it shouldn’t raise any suspicions. She stood, smoothing down her dress. "Lovely dinner, as always."
She could feel Sasha's eyes on her as she left the dining room, could feel the weight of that concerned gaze following her into the hallway. Part of her wanted to turn around, to let Sasha ask what was wrong, to admit that everything was falling apart and she had no idea how to fix it.
But Victoria Sullivan didn't fall apart. Victoria Sullivan had contingency plans and backup strategies and the sort of professional composure that had gotten her through six years of high-pressure banking.
Victoria Sullivan was absolutely fine.
She climbed the stairs to her room, each step feeling heavier than the last, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that in a few hours, Sasha would be sleeping six feet away from her, breathing softly in the darkness, and Victoria would be lying awake wanting things she had no business wanting.
The hallway stretched before her, familiar portraits watching from the walls with disapproving eyes, and Victoria had never felt more like she was walking toward something inevitable and utterly terrifying.
