Those were problems of the previous day that would spill into many days to come, but they wouldn’t steal tonight from her. She’d become an expert at compartmentalising every aspect of her life, and tonight she had already managed to lock away her knowledge of how all things would end. Tonight, she would stay here as long as she could stand. Tonight, she would revel in every detail of this little pub, in her typical British meal, and in the company of good people. There was an exuberance to the everyday aspects of it all.

Only, even here, nothing about Vic seemed mundane.

She was so beautifully relaxed tonight, as she laughed again at some story Emma relayed about her niece, or maybe Brogan’s niece. Sophia couldn’t follow all the relationships, but that didn’t keep her from taking this chance to watch Vic’s features shift in their unguarded state. She wouldn’t have thought it possible for Vic to be any more attractive than she was in her full commanding mode, or in those sexually confident moments where she’d pinned Sophia to the wall and ravished her, but seeing her here with these friends she trusted and in a place she could relax stirred a new, deeper emotion.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Brogan rejoining them as she declared, “That’s it. Kitchen’s closed for the night.”

Vic scooted over under the guise of letting Emma sit next to her wife, and Sophia thanked the gods of chivalry for putting Vic within arm’s reach.

“And, if you want anything else from the bar, you’ll have to pour it yourself, because I’m off the clock,” Brogan declared.

“An open bar?” Vic raised her eyebrows. “What a treat.”

Emma shook her head. “It’s not like you don’t have one of those in every room of your house.”

Brogan grinned. “Don’t you love how she’s taken to calling your castle a ‘house’?”

“It’s social class, darling.” Emma affected a snooty tone. “When you’re as rich as she is, it’s not a limo, just a car. Same goes for castles.”

“Emma, my dear.” Vic played along, accent shifting into something more closely resembling a BBC commentator. “Let’s not share all the secrets with the peasants. We must maintain our position through an air of superiority, only throwing out enough crumbs to the masses as to prevent them from constructing guillotines.”

“Right. Right.” Emma tried to stay in character but cracked a smile. “I still forget about the guillotines.”

Vic sniffed the air. “It’s the scent of all your new money that clouds your thinking.”

“How do you know it’s not my new money?” Sophia asked, wanting to get in on some of the humour. She’d seen Vic tense so many times about her wealth or responsibility, it felt good to poke a little fun at themselves.