Page 26 of Falls From Grace
“Oh no, it’s okay, you do your thing, I’ll just-” she gestured behind her awkwardly, her stomach clenching. Savannah hesitated, and Brynn understood she was supposed to be learning how to get the child to sleep. God, she needed to get her shit together. Still, there was no way she was going in there. “I’ll just wait back here?” she tried, gesturing to an armchair in Tucker’s room. Savannah nodded quickly and carried her son into her bedroom.
Brynn perched awkwardly on the edge of the chair, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. In the next room, Savannah tugged off her big goofy socks and pulled down the soft-looking comforter. Her bedding was a soft, dusky pink, more luxurious and feminine than anything Brynn had ever owned. She lay down on her side with her head on the pillow and cradled Tucker against her, holding him tight. He pulled back and murmured something plaintively and she picked up her phone from the bedside table and pressed play on a song.
He settled in and she held him as the song played through hidden speakers somewhere. As soon as it ended, it began again. The song started out with gentle piano but the woman’s voice was strong and emotive. It didn’t feel at all like a lullaby. It felt like a love song and a fight all in one. Brynn felt it in her bones as she absorbed where she’d found herself, watching Savannah laying in her bed, her golden hair across the pillow, the outline of her hip, her shapely legs, her eyes closed as she held her sweet boy in her arms. Brynn got to her feet and left the room like someone had pulled a fire alarm.
She paced in the living room. It would be okay. It was just this one ridiculously intimate day. After this, they’d be like ships in the night. She leaned her forehead against the window, trying to cool her heated face, but the window seemed at least triple-glazed against the ice outside. Her blood felt like it was fire in her veins.
About half an hour later, Savannah emerged to find her sitting on the couch, calmly reading a book she’d stolen at random from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf at the back of the room. Savannah’s hair was tousled and her features soft and flushed.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I accidentally drifted off,” she apologized. “We don’t always sleep that great at night and the second I lay down it was all over.” She took a seat at the other end of the couch. Her feet were still bare. How was it that even her feet were ridiculously pretty? They looked cold and Brynn wanted nothing more than to bring them up into her lap to rub them, or for Savannah to slide them under Brynn’s thighs for warmth. “I didn’t mean to leave you there on your own while we slept.”
“It’s fine,” Brynn managed. “I didn’t want to sit and watch you sleep like some kind of creeper,” she said, which was both the truth and a lie. She held up the book with a smile. Jane Eyre. “This seemed appropriate to the weather,” she nodded to the window where the frozen rain still lashed.
“God, I love that book.” Savannah took it from her, turning it over in her hands and smiling down at it like it was an old friend. She felt Brynn’s gaze and misinterpreted her silence. “What, you didn’t think poor white trash would read classic literature?”
“What? No!” Brynn was horrified. Savannah smirked, and she realized she was being played. “You’re an asshole,” she spluttered. “Playing on my middle-class guilt. I actually think it’s pretty perfect for you… a girl born into poverty grows up and becomes lady of the manor,” she gestured at the house around them. “Plus, lots of that cold weather you seem to love.”
“That’s a horrible summary of Jane Eyre,” Savannah scoffed. “Thornfield Hall burns to the ground… she’s never lady of the manor.”
“Right, but you are hiding your mentally ill wife in the attic, so there is that,” she joked. “Wait, does that make me Jane?” Holy shit, why was she flirting? She was just trying to be funny, but it was coming out all wrong. Savannah straight up giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear and biting her lip in thought.
“If I’m seducing my young hireling I think that means Noah is Jane,” she said sensibly.
“Except aren’t I essentially your governess now?” protested Brynn, swallowing irrational jealousy. “I’m Jane.”
“I think you’re probably right,” said Savannah, a satisfied smile taking up residence on her face, possibly something to do with Brynn zealously defending her right to her fictional seduction. “Oh god.” Savannah sat up straight. “That reminds me, I’ll call Chester. He’ll arrange your contract and all the paperwork.”
“Contract?” Brynn asked. “I mean, I’ll sign all the NDAs, background checks, whatever that you need, but I don’t want you to pay me.”
“Of course I’m going to pay you.” Savannah looked shocked. “It’s a huge undertaking and you’re doing me a massive favor. I couldn’t work without this help. I value your help. A lot. It pays well, Brynn.”
“I don’t want to be the help,” said Brynn simply, feeling slightly humiliated at how much she didn’t want this to be their dynamic. Savannah considered her for a moment.
“Is this an ego thing?” she asked. “Because I have to tell you as someone who comes from a long line of janitors and cleaners I’m going to take that poorly.”
“No,” Brynn said firmly. “It’s not. Look. I’m here as a guest, right? Noah’s here to work. I’m just a hanger-on. Getting a free holiday. Living in your house, eating your food. Doing this would make me feel like I have a right to be here. That I’m not taking advantage of you being-”
“Stupidly rich.”
“Generous,” she corrected.
“Noah will be getting paid,” Savannah pointed out. “So your logic is flawed.”
“Fine. Noah can be the help, then,” Brynn said firmly.
“I don’t see why it’s any different-”
“It’s different because I want to be your friend!” Brynn burst out. Then she flinched. What the hell was she thinking? Her bank account was tragic, without any promise of money coming in. A solid few weeks or months of pay would do wonders for her future prospects. And since she was trying not to get close to Savannah, putting a good, arbitrary, HR-enforced boundary between them was exactly the right thing to do. And yet… even though nothing could happen between them, Brynn could not stomach the idea of being so pathetic as to have a huge crush on her boss. “Oh wow, I’m such a dork.” Her eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, I-”
“I want to be your friend too,” interrupted Savannah. She pulled up her legs and hugged her knees, looking very small and human. “I don’t want to be one of those dumb celebrities who thinks their paid assistant is their best friend.” She picked at a tiny chip in her nail polish. “But I do, in fact, pay both my best friends. Coral is in my band and Rosalie runs my nonprofit. And I know they love me, but that’s still an undeniable fact.”
“Savannah,” Brynn wasn’t sure if she’d ever said her name out loud, to her face before. She liked the way it rolled off her tongue, the way it made the singer raise her head and look at her. “If you pay me, I will quit. I won’t be on your payroll.”
Savannah looked at her for a long time. Despite the triple-glazing, Brynn could hear the sound of ice pelting against the windows and the wind howling outside. It was that, for sure, and not the prolonged eye contact, that made her shiver.
“You’re something else,” Savannah said softly. “I’m very grateful we’re going to be friends.”
Brynn swallowed loudly. “Me too,” she said.
