Victoria closed the front door with a small slam.
“Ah, she returns,” Holly said as she walked down the stairs towards the entrance hallway. “I didn’t expect you for another hour.”
“Neither did I,” Victoria admitted. “I managed to cut my meeting short due to rampant incompetence. Maybe I should have expected it, considering who the meeting was with.”
Holly took her coat and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Well, I’m glad for that incompetence if we get to see you a little sooner. Did you eat?”
Victoria chewed her lip and looked away. There was a rule that she was to eat in the office if she got delayed beyond a certain time. However, she often forgot as time seemed to slip by without permission.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Holly chuckled as she hung Victoria’s coat on the padded hanger in the closet. “Would you like something? I can make you a light salad? Or something more substantial?”
“You don’t have to wait on me,” Victoria chided her lightly. She was somewhat of an expert at picking foodstuffs out of the fridge for a late-night meal.
“I’m not waiting on you,” Holly said. “I’m spending time with you. And this is efficient. You love efficient.”
Victoria caught Holly’s arm and gently pulled her closer. “I do, but I love you more.”
She pressed her lips to Holly’s, mindful to keep it light as she desperately wanted to go to the bedroom and freshen up. It had been a long day, and she wanted to get changed, splash some water on her face, and brush her teeth. But Holly was magnetic, and she couldn’t go until she’d kissed her.
“Yuck.”
Holly pulled away, laughing. Victoria turned towards Hugo, who was coming down the stairs with a wide smirk on his face.
“Would you like to be grounded, Hugo?” Victoria asked sweetly.
“Can you still ground me now that I’m sixteen?” he asked, placing a welcome-home kiss on his mother’s cheek.
“We can certainly explore the possibility if you’d like?”
“If anyone’s in danger of being grounded, it’s you,” Hugo told her. “Alexia is unhappy that you’re home so late. Again.”
Victoria let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It really was unavoidable,” she explained softly.
“We know,” Holly said. “Go and say hello to her. I’ll make you something. What would you like?”
“Is there any tuna left?”
“There is. Tuna salad?” Holly asked.
“That would be lovely.” Victoria was already making her way to the stairs, wondering how bad a mood her youngest would be in. Alexia was quite adept at the silent treatment, presumably knowing it was the quickest way to wound Victoria.
“I’ll bring it up,” Holly said, her tone final.
Victoria’s previous rule of no food upstairs had quickly been broken when Holly returned from Paris, and it showed no sign of a resurgence. It felt strange to eat in the living room, but she was aware that it was the best way to maximise her time with her children.
She went to her bedroom first, eagerly stripping out of her waistcoat, trousers, and white blouse. She used the bathroom to freshen up before slipping into a soft, navy sweater and casual, black trousers. She checked her appearance in the mirror before hurrying to the living room.
Alexia’s bedtime was eight o’clock. Not five past eight, but eight o’clock on the dot despite many, many arguments to the contrary. Victoria tried her best to maximise her time with Alexia on weekday evenings, but she was painfully aware that she had arrived home at ten minutes to eight once too often in the last week.
She entered the living room. Alexia was lounging on a beanbag watching Groundhog Day. Again.
Victoria wondered, not for the first time, what Alexia’s fascination with the movie was. Victoria had always thought it was a competent movie, the first time she saw it. Now she could quote the entire thing and wanted it banned from sale in the United States.
“Hello, darling.”
Alexia grunted.
Victoria looked at the back of her daughter’s head and wondered what the best strategy was.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she tried.
“It’s fine,” Alexia mumbled, indicating that it wasn’t at all fine.
A quick mental scan of her schedule found no gaps she could exploit to make it up to Alexia. It was times like this that she didn’t enjoy her prominent role in the publishing world.
She walked around the sofa and the coffee table to the beanbag. She sat cross-legged beside Alexia and looked from her daughter to the large flat screen which held her attention.
“Do you think Holly looks like Andie MacDowell?” Alexia asked.
Victoria looked at the screen and tilted her head to the side. Her overly analytical mind wanted to list all the reasons why Holly looked nothing like Andie, but that wasn’t going to help her get through to Alexia.
“In some lights,” she agreed. “Alexia, I really am—”
“Shh.” Alexia gestured towards the television with a nod of her head.
Victoria itched to snatch up the remote control and pause the movie and have a conversation with her daughter. However, she knew that action wouldn’t be welcomed. In fact, there was a big chance that would upset Alexia even more than her delayed arrival had.
She needed time to calm down; that’s what Holly always told her, and she was usually correct. Victoria leaned back against the sofa and turned her head to watch the screen. She idly wondered when the fashions would return, as everything eventually did. She didn’t look forward to the nineties returning; they were difficult enough the first time around.
An hour later, Victoria returned to the living room from putting Alexia to bed. Holly looked up from her laptop.
“Everything okay?”
“I’m being punished,” Victoria explained, fluffing up scatter cushions on her way to the sofa.
“Yes.” Holly closed the laptop lid and placed the device on the coffee table. “We need to talk about that.”
Victoria let out a sigh. She sat beside Holly. “Must we?”
She didn’t feel like being chastised; she’d done her best to get home on time. It wasn’t her fault that things were the way they were. There was a deadline that had to be met. Before that there were a set number of meetings and decisions that needed to be finalised. Things overran; it wasn’t like she could just leave.
“Unfortunately, yes, but only because of something specific Alexia said,” Holly explained.
Victoria’s heart sank a little. “Go on…”
“Alexia thinks, or at least said that she thinks, that the only reason you changed your schedule and started to spend more time at home is because of me.”
“You?” Victoria frowned.
“Because you wanted to spend more time with me,” Holly clarified.
“Well, that’s nonsense.”
“I know that, and you know that,” Holly agreed, “but you must see how it appears to her.”
Victoria let out a long sigh, leaned her head back on the sofa, and stared up at the ceiling. “So, I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”
Holly grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “It’s not like that.”
“If I stay at work, she’ll be angry that I’m not home. If I come home, she’ll assume it’s to see you.” Victoria turned her head and looked at Holly. “Right?”
Holly grinned. “Isn’t motherhood great?”
Victoria felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.
“This is nothing a conversation won’t fix,” Holly reassured her.
“Optimist,” Victoria whispered. Her eyes were getting heavy, and she knew she’d not be up much longer than her nine-year-old that evening, a depressing thought. “I am sorry.”
“For?” Holly asked.
“For being late, for you having to deal with Alexia’s moods, for pushing you into the role of motherhood,” Victoria started to list the things she felt she had done wrong that evening alone. If they were going to extend the apology to the entire week, then she’d need more time. And a cup of coffee.
Holly discarded her laptop and straddled Victoria’s thighs in one swift movement. That woke her up. She lifted her head and looked into determined eyes.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Holly told her. “I love Alexia and Hugo like they are my own.”
“I know you do,” Victoria agreed. “But would you really choose to have two children at twenty-six if not for being in a relationship with me?”
“I don’t know what I’d choose,” Holly admitted, “because it’s not worth discussing. This is what I’ve chosen, to be with you. All of you.”
Holly ducked her head down and captured a kiss. It was soft, sweet, and full of promise. Sadly, it only lasted a couple of brief seconds before she sat back up again.
“I had a call about a new job today, an article for Modern Woman,” Holly said, a satisfied smile on her lips.
She’d earned the smile; she’d been working hard on expanding her profile of late. Holly was a good journalist and article writer, and Victoria was glad to see that she was succeeding at her dream job.
“Wonderful news,” Victoria said. “Tight deadline?”
“Yeah, tomorrow before lunch. I’ve done half of it already. I’m going to sleep on the rest and finish up first thing.” Holly ran her finger along the low neck of Victoria’s sweater. “Are you very tired?”
Victoria swallowed. She was extremely tired, but she didn’t want to turn Holly down.
“I was thinking I could massage you before bed,” Holly said.
“Oh. Well, yes, that sounds…” Victoria trailed off. It sounded heavenly. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve Holly in her life. The anxiety that it may one day be taken away from her still lingered in the corners of her mind. The ever-present concern that Holly’s memories could come back and ruin everything took her breath away when she least expected it.
“What are you thinking about?” Holly asked, immediately picking up on her change in mood.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Victoria replied cryptically.
They’d spoken about Victoria’s fears before. The conversation always ended up in a pointless circle. Victoria would state that Holly’s memories would one day return and Holly would remember what a vile monster she used to be. Holly would point out that the chances of her memories coming back were slim and growing slimmer each day. She’d then say that it didn’t matter if they returned or not; her feelings for Victoria were strong enough to sustain anything.
Victoria wanted to believe that, and she knew that Holly’s journals had documented their life together before the accident. She’d never seen them, but she could imagine what young Holly Carter, fresh-faced assistant to ice queen Victoria Hastings, had written in her personal diaries at the start of her employment.
Certainly nothing flattering.
Victoria had been a beast at the start; she always was while breaking in a second assistant. She needed them to be tough if they were going to survive. She could hardly remember a word of what she said to Holly when she worked for her, but she knew she’d probably regret every single utterance.
Holly’s detailed journals would surely be nothing compared to the overwhelming sensation of actual memories returning.
“Liar,” Holly said. “I can feel you getting more and more tense by the second.” She stood up and reached out her hand. “Come on, let’s get you to bed and relax you.”
Victoria took Holly’s hand and allowed her to be pulled to her feet and led from the sitting room.
Yes, she was indeed a very lucky woman.