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"What do you have ready for breakfast right now?" Victoria asked.

"Nothing! I mean, I have the festival cakes, but—"

"Then we serve the festival cakes to the guests," Victoria said calmly. "You can bake another batch after or during the breakfast rush."

"But then who will run the stall?" Emma asked. Panic edged into her voice again. "I can't be in the kitchen and outside at the same time."

"I will."

Emma blinked. "You will what?"

"I will run the stall," Victoria repeated. "Calm down. We are going to go downstairs, we will set everything up, Chloe will help us, and it will be fine."

Emma stared at her for a long moment. The frantic energy in her shoulders began to dissolve under Victoria’s hands. She let out a long exhale. "Okay. Thank you. We can do this."

"Go take a shower," Victoria told her, dropping her hands. "I will wait for you in the kitchen."

Emma nodded and practically jogged toward the en-suite bathroom. The door clicked shut, followed a second later by the hiss of the shower turning on.

Victoria let out a long breath, dragging a hand through her hair. She sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching for her trousers to find her phone. She needed to check her emails before going downstairs.

The moment her fingers brushed the screen, it lit up with notifications that had arrived in the dead of night, sent while Manhattan was still wrapping up its business hours.

There was a calendar alert and a direct message stamped at 11:42 PM New York time:

Richard Vance: My team is waiting on the preliminary land surveys. Confirm our video conference for Monday at 9:00 AM EST. That is 2:00 PM London time. I do not like delays, Victoria.

The warmth of the morning evaporated instantly. Victoria stared at the screen, listening to the running water echoing from the bathroom. She opened her email client, pulling up a blank draft addressed to Harrison. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

Harrison. I am reviewing the operating margins. Maybe we should halt the Vance acquisition. I can find something else while I’m here that suits Vance’s requirements and I can restructure this estate to be highly profitable for us without liquidating it. I will send a revised proposal by—

She stopped. She stared at the blinking cursor, a cold knot forming in her stomach.

She was Victoria Sterling. She had spent twenty years clawing her way out from under Harrison’s shadow, enduring his impossible standards and manipulation just to secure her independence and her rightful seat on the board. She couldn't throw away her entire career, her freedom, for a country inn and a few weeks of intoxicating heat with a woman who infuriated her as much as she captivated her.

Her jaw tightened. She hit the backspace key, deleting the text letter by letter until the screen was blank again.

She typed a new reply, ruthless and efficient.

Harrison. The preliminary land surveys and the structural audit are attached. I will see you and Vance on the call Monday at 9:00 AM to finalize the terms.

She hit send.

The bathroom door clicked open. Victoria flinched, locking her phone instantly and shoving it into her pocket. The air caught hard in her throat.

Emma poked her head out, her hair damp, a towel wrapped tightly around her chest. "Did you need the bathroom? It'll be two seconds."

Victoria forced her expression into a flawless, unreadable mask. "Take your time, I’ll use the one downstairs. And Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Take your bra with you this time," Victoria said. "I don't need two souvenirs."

She stepped out into the hallway before Emma could respond, closing the door on the sound of Emma’s breathless laugh.

✽✽✽

The early June sun beat down on The Amber House’s garden. Victoria adjusted the brim of her sunglasses and handed a paper bag across the wooden table with two delicate lemon basil tarts.