"Lukas effect?"
"Definitely the Lukas effect." His expression went soft in that particular way that meant he was thinking about his ridiculous head gardener. "Did I mention he kissed me yesterday? Properly kissed me, not just the sneaky greenhouse fumbling we've been doing." He flushed. "He, uh, wondered if I might like to go back to Poland with him for a weekend."
"Meeting the family?" Sasha couldn't help smiling at his obvious happiness. "That’s a big step."
"Well, I mean, he’s already met mine, hasn’t he? Seems only fair."
"I suppose it does," agreed Sasha.
Ambrose dug into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. "Which brings me to this."
Sasha eyed the box suspiciously. "If you're proposing, I should mention that I'd make a terrible wife. Don’t care for cooking and, as previously mentioned, I’d probably make fun of your shoes too much."
"It’s not a proposal, you muppet. It’s a thank you." He opened the box to reveal a delicate silver necklace, simple and elegant. "For giving me a whole holiday of being the golden child. For letting me be the son they wanted, even if it was all a lie. It was an interesting experience. Not sure I’ll be repeating it, but nothaving people criticize me for once was lovely. And they all love you, by the way."
The necklace was beautiful, clearly expensive, and absolutely not something she deserved. "Ambrose, I can't—"
"You can and you will." He was already fastening it around her neck, his fingers gentle at her nape. "Besides, you've earned it. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be perfect? I've gained a whole new appreciation for Victoria's constant stress levels."
"Speaking of Victoria…"
"Ah." Ambrose settled back on the blanket, studying her face. "She's back this afternoon, you know. Interview went well, apparently."
"Good for her." Sasha tried to sound casual and failed spectacularly. "She'll be thrilled to get back to London. Back to proper banking and work and everything that makes her happy."
"You think work makes her happy?"
"Doesn't it? She lights up when she talks about investment strategies. Gets that focused look when she's on business calls. It's clearly what she loves." Sasha picked up a handful of sand, letting it run through her fingers. "Which is fine. Admirable, really. Very driven."
"Sash." Ambrose's voice was gentle. "You know that's not the whole story, right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Victoria's been working like a maniac since university because it's what she thinks she's supposed to do. Perfect daughter, perfect career, perfect everything. But have you seen her this week? Actually looked at her?"
Sasha had looked at her. Had catalogued every smile, every laugh, every moment when Victoria forgot to be perfect. Had memorized the way she moved, breathed, spoke.
"She seems relaxed," she admitted.
"She seems human. For the first time in years." Ambrose was watching her carefully. "Don't be too harsh on her, yeah? She does what she knows how to do. And she's genuinely brilliant at it, the banking thing isn't just an act. But that doesn't mean it's all she is."
They swam after that, the water shockingly cold but refreshing after the sticky heat. Ambrose disappeared underwater like the aquatic show-off he was, surfacing near the rocks with his hair slicked back and a grin that made him look about twelve.
"Race you back," he called, already striking out toward shore.
"Cheater!" Sasha called back, but she was laughing as she followed.
The walk back up to the house gave her time to think, which was probably a mistake. The estate sprawled before them in the morning light, all honey-colored stone and manicured perfection. Staff moved efficiently across the grounds, preparing for the weekend’s festivities. It was all… unreal. She couldn’t even believe Ambrose belonged here, let alone someone like her.
Even if Victoria did like her, which was a generous interpretation of their situation, what exactly was Sasha supposed to do with that? She'd be going back to her garden center job search and Ambrose's spare room, while Victoria returned to Chelsea and banking and a world where people learned Latin for fun at age twelve.
They came from different planets. The fact that they'd collided so spectacularly for two weeks didn't change that basic reality. It had been a fantasy holiday, that was all.
As they reached the house, Ambrose spotted Lukas heading toward the rose garden. "I’ll catch up with you later," he said before speeding off.
Sasha grinned. At least someone was happy. Very happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Ambrose so infatuated. And Lukas was nice, really nice. She turned to go in through the terrace before a voice stopped her.
"Sasha, thank God you're back."
