“Had a good day, Miss Saltmarshe?” Kivi said neutrally as she placed a Caesar salad in front of her.
“Fine, thank you,” Saskia said, but caught Kivi’s wrist as she was moving away, and pulled her closer. Kivi just about stifled her yelp. “I thought we established that we areSaskiaandKivito each other, didn’t we?” She kept her voice quiet. “NotMiss SaltmarsheandMiss Chadwick.”
“We did,” Kivi murmured. Her face was starting to turn pink, and Saskia loosened her grip on her wrist slightly.
“Well then? Why the formality?”
“Knee-jerk reaction,” Kivi said immediately, sounding slightly strangled.
“To what?”
“…Nothing. My apologies, Saskia. Now, will you let me go?”
Kivi’s face was still pink as she walked away – Saskia hadn’t meant to humiliate her. But it certainly had needed saying. Kivi was exceedingly polite throughout the rest of the meal, although no less frosty. She wasn’t like that with anyone else, but Saskia decided she just had to let it go. Put it down as an off day. Hopefully she’d be better tomorrow.
That was, until she walked into the dining room later that evening in search of her ear buds, and spotted Kivi sitting on her own in the garden with her back to the guest house. Toto was stretched out beside her. There was something about her body language again… this time, something forlorn. Quite without conscious thought, Saskia opened the patio doors, and went out to see her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Kivi
Just what I fucking need.
It had been an excruciating day of trying to avoid Saskia. Kivi had never been quite so wrong about anybody before. To the uneducated eye, Saskia seemed like a nice person. A mature, intelligent, level-headed human being, with perhaps a little too much acidity now and again. The trouble was, Kivi was no longer uneducated. Last night's research had shown her that, and it had completely thrown her to realise that within the slender, attractive, angelic-looking frame lay a rotten core of prejudice.
By the time she'd finished up for the day and settled outside in the garden to relax, Kivi felt she'd earned it. The beer in her hand confirmed it. Every fibre of her being had wanted to strangle Saskia during their brief interactions, and that fire had only been stoked when the woman had called her out on it at dinner. She knew that eventually, they'd probably have to talk about it. They still had Cass and Felicia's wedding to plan, and it wouldn't do the two fiancées any good to breathe in the air of poison that was quickly developing between their wedding planners. Plus, she and Saskia were stuck together for a few more weeks whileshe stayed at the guest house. The issue needed to be lanced. Probably tomorrow.
Then she looked up and saw Saskia approaching. Her fist tightened around the beer bottle.
Or maybe not.
“Saskia,” Kivi said in greeting. She didn't recognise the coldness in her own voice. Toto didn't pick up on it, and stood up to greet her, stretching and wagging his tail.
“Hey,” Saskia replied, surprisingly nervously. She ran her fingers through Toto's golden fur. “Um… how are you?”
“Exhausted,” Kivi said. “And socially burnt out. I know we have things to discuss for the wedding, but can they wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” Saskia said, sounding faintly strangled. Kivi squinted up at her – her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and she appeared to be gritting her teeth. Toto had given up on trying to get her attention, and flopped back down. “I'm sorry. It won't wait until tomorrow. I need to know. What is your sudden problem with me? Yesterday we were perfectly good friends, and today you're treating me like I pissed in your cornflakes.”
Wow. Saskia didn't mince her words, or beat around the bush. And although Kivi opened and closed her mouth a couple of times while her brain loaded, she couldn't think of a smart-arsed reply.
In the end, she huffed. “Pull up a chair. There's a fold-up one leaning against the fence.”
Saskia did so, positioning it so they were both facing the field behind the house. A wild bunny or hare hopped by, and it made Kivi’s mouth twitch for just a second. When she looked back, Saskia had sat down, folding her legs in a dignified manner andresting her clasped hands in her lap. Suddenly, Kivi could see her in a high-powered job, ordering her minions around and putting the fear of God into them. To add to this image, Saskia raised an eyebrow, silently emphasising‘Well?’.
Kivi sighed again. “I did a little research last night. Into you.”
Saskia's expression didn't change. She, in fact, remained motionless. Kivi felt obliged to fill the silence.
“You've had a varied career, I see. You've been to lots of places, seen lots of people…”
Oh, listen to yourself rambling. Get on with it!
“...And shared lots of opinions. Some of which I found… unfavourable.”
“You think kitten heels are God's gift to mankind?” Saskia said dryly, holding her hands up. “That was probably the most controversial article I’ve penned in recent years. Unless you’ve unearthed that old blog I had when I was a teen. I don't evenrememberwhat I wrote, but I can't imagine it was very well written.”
“Not a blog,” Kivi said. “But something else from when you were a teen. Something with… less words and characters, shall we say?”
