"How did it go?" Sasha asked, standing up and trying to ignore the way her stomach flipped.
"Good. Really good, actually." Victoria's smile was bright but didn't quite reach her eyes. "They seemed impressed. Said they'd be in touch within the week about next steps."
"That's brilliant. Really brilliant." And it was. It absolutely was.
"Yes." Victoria moved closer, and despite everything, despite all of Sasha's spiraling thoughts about real worlds and appropriate matches, her hand still found Sasha's waist in that automatic way that made breathing difficult. "I've missed you."
"It's been eight hours."
"Still too long." Victoria kissed her, and for a moment Sasha let herself forget about gardeners' daughters and perfect lives and the inevitable end of summer.
But when they pulled apart, she caught something in Victoria's expression. Excitement, yes, but also something else. Distance, maybe. A slight guardedness that hadn't been there before. The look of someone already mentally packing their bags, already planning their return to real life.
"We should probably get ready for dinner," Victoria said, glancing at her watch. "I need to change out of this suit."
"Right. Dinner."
Victoria kissed her once more, quick and almost perfunctory, then headed into the house. Sasha watched her go, watched that straight back and confident stride, every inch the woman who'd learned Latin at twelve and never put a foot wrong.
And she realized, with a sinking certainty that settled like lead in her stomach, that Cathy had been absolutely right about fairytale endings.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Victoria checked her phone for the twentieth time in as many minutes. Still nothing from Richmond Brothers. They'd said within the week, which meant anywhere from tonight to five days from now, and the waiting was driving her absolutely mad.
She should be working on other applications. Following up with headhunters. Networking. Doing all the things that had always come so naturally before her entire career had disappeared down the drain.
Instead, she was sitting on the terrace like some sort of lovesick teenager, watching Sasha work in the gardens and trying to decode whether that careful distance she'd sensed since yesterday was real or just her imagination running wild.
Because Sasha had definitely been… different. Still warm when they were alone, still responsive when Victoria kissed her, but there was something underneath now. A guardedness that hadn't been there before. Like she was already preparing herself for something inevitable.
Which was fine. Perfectly fine. This had always been temporary anyway. A summer thing, nothing more. Sasha had never pretended otherwise, and Victoria certainly hadn't made any promises.
She told herself this was actually ideal. No messy feelings to navigate, no complicated conversations about the future, no awkward goodbyes. They'd had their fun, and when it was time to leave, they'd part as friends. Easy. Uncomplicated. Exactly what Victoria needed.
So why did her chest feel tight every time Sasha smiled at her with that new, careful distance? Why did she keep checking where Sasha was, what she was doing, whether she was thinking about Victoria too?
This was getting out of hand.
Her phone buzzed and she nearly fumbled it in her haste to check. Just her mother, asking about seating arrangements for the house party. Victoria shoved it back in her pocket with more force than strictly necessary.
"You look like you're contemplating bodily harm."
She looked up to find Lukas standing at the terrace steps, pruning shears in one hand and a slightly amused expression on his face. He was covered in a light dusting of soil and looked annoyingly peaceful.
"Just… work stuff," Victoria said. "Though that’s close enough to contemplating homicide sometimes, I suppose."
"Ah." He settled onto the step beside her with the easy comfort of someone who'd not worked here long enough to know he shouldn’t. "Job anxiety, tell me about it."
"You've no idea."
"Actually, I do." His smile was wry. "I waited three months to hear about this position. Checked my email so often I nearly wore out my phone. Drove my mother absolutely mad with my pacing."
Victoria found herself relaxing slightly. "And was it worth it? The anxiety?"
"The job? Absolutely. Best thing I've ever done." He turned the pruning shears over in his hands, studying them like they held answers. "The anxiety? Less so. Though I've learned that sometimes the things worth having are worth being terrified about."
There was something in his voice, something underneath the casual tone, that made Victoria look at him more carefully. "We're not just talking about jobs anymore, are we?"
