Page 39

"It doesn't matter what she thinks."

"Right. Which is why you're hiding in your room sounding like someone kicked your dog." Chloe paused, the sudden quiet on her end suggesting she had stepped off the street and into an elevator. "Oh my God, what is actually going on over there? Do you like her, Vic? You totally like her!"

Victoria closed her eyes. The memory of Emma laughing over the counter, the rumpled cotton of her apron, the heat of skin against Victoria's thumb—it all rose at once. "No. She is complicated. And stubborn."

"That means yes," Chloe concluded smugly. "Go talk to her before you pack your bags and come back here miserable."

"It's not that simple," Victoria muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Things are... tangled."

"Tangled how? You've only been there what...? A month."

"Don’t freak out. We slept together."

The silence on the line was so absolute Victoria pulled the phone away from her ear to check if the call had dropped.

"Chloe?"

A sound came through the speaker that resembled a strangled gasp, followed immediately by the sharp clack of heels stopping dead on marble.

"You what?" Chloe’s voice jumped two entire octaves, completely abandoning her usual Manhattan composure. "Excuse me? Victoria Sterling, the woman who requires three background checks, an NDA, and a full calendar quarter to consider holding someone's hand, slept with the village baker?"

"Keep your voice down," Victoria snapped, though she was an ocean away.

"I will not keep my voice down! This is monumental! When? How? Was it in a barn? Please tell me it was against a counter." Chloe took a sharp breath, her tone veering into outright glee. "Oh my god. You didn't just like her. You fell into bed with her and now you're having actual human feelings."

"It was the night I flew in," Victoria said stiffly. "We didn’t know each other's names. When we finally figured out who was who the next morning, we agreed it wouldn't have to be complicated."

"Right, because that always works," Chloe laughed, delighted by the mess. "You fell into bed with a total stranger who turned out to be your grandfather's co-heir, the exact woman you are trying to force out of her home? Victoria, you're a genius with numbers, but you're an absolute idiot about people."

"The sexual tension is... distracting," Victoria admitted quietly, the confession feeling heavy on her tongue. "But I am not letting it cloud my judgment. The plan moves forward. That is the only priority."

"Clearly it isn't, considering you're hiding sounding like your world just ended," Chloe pointed out briskly. "Go talk to her. Accept her apology, or give her one, and clear the air. You have to live with her for the next two quarters."

"We have to sample the local cider for the festival menu tonight anyway," Victoria murmured, glancing at the clock. "I suppose I should go down."

"Good. Alcohol and unfinished business," Chloe said. "Call me tomorrow with an update. Love you, sis."

The line went dead. Victoria set the phone down and stood up. She smoothed the front of her linen trousers, took a deep breath, and walked out of the room.

The house smelled like baked garlic and tomatoes. When she reached the kitchen, Emma was standing near the island. Six different bottles of cider were lined up on the counter, alongside two small tasting glasses and a notepad.

When the door clicked, Emma’s head snapped up. Victoria saw the immediate tension in her shoulders. Emma looked braced for an argument, her eyes scanning Victoria’s face for anger. But Victoria had let it go. The sting from yesterday was still there, but she didn’t see the point in holding a grudge.

"Hi," Emma said, her voice hesitant.

"Hello." Victoria walked to the opposite side of the island and sat down on a stool. She folded her hands in her lap, waiting.

Emma shifted her weight, clearly unsettled by the lack of hostility. She reached for the first bottle, her fingers fumbling slightly with the cap. "I wasn't sure if you were going to come down."

"We need to finalize the beverage order by tomorrow," Victoria replied calmly. "I wouldn't skip it."

Emma popped the cap off the bottle with a sharp hiss. She poured a small amount of amber liquid into both glasses, pushing one across the marble counter. Then she stopped, resting her hands on the edge of the wood. She looked down, her jaw working as she searched for the right words.

"I'm sorry," Emma said, her voice dropping into a rough whisper. She finally looked up, meeting Victoria’s eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. At the café. About you and Joe. I was angry, and I wanted to hurt someone because I was hurting and you were there, and it was a terrible thing to do. I'm really sorry."

Victoria looked at her. The apology was raw and fully sincere. Emma looked terrified that Victoria might simply stand up and walk away again.

"Thank you," Victoria said simply.