Chapter 5 Close Call
It took every ounce of self-control not to yank him into my arms and kiss him stupid. Not just a quick, desperate kiss, either—I wanted to take my time, to taste him, to drown in him. My hand even twitched halfway to his face before I caught myself and yanked it back.
Close call.
Instead, I stood there, watching him smile at me like I hadn’t just had a full mental breakdown in the span of five seconds. A little defeated, sure, but mostly just happy. Because seeing Leander—just seeing him—was enough to make me feel like the luckiest person in the world.
Leander Grimaldi. My Leander Grimaldi.
Sunlight streamed through the leaves, wrapping us in golden warmth. We just stood there, staring at each other—me, full of hopeless, ridiculous adoration, and him, smiling at me like I’d just done him the biggest favour in the world. The air between us shimmered, thick with something unnamed, something sweeter than the heady scent of flowers.
And then—
‘Anne! What are you two doing?’ Linnea’s voice shattered the moment like a rock through a stained-glass window.
I blinked and snapped my head towards her, hoping my face wasn’t broadcasting I was about to devour someone I’ve had my eyes on for years. ‘Nothing. What’s up?’ I said, aiming for casual indifference.
Linnea gave me a suspicious look, like she could feel the murder in my eyes, then shivered for no apparent reason and rubbed her arms. ‘Anne, do you know where the night-blooming cereus went?’
‘The what?’
‘You know, that flower that only blooms for, like, five minutes before it dies dramatically?’ She pointed toward a tucked-away corner of the garden.
‘Oh, that one.’ I gestured lazily. ‘There.’
Linnea beamed. ‘Mireille, there it is! Let’s go check it out. Anne, you and Leander follow us. And don’t get lost, or I won’t come looking for you.’ She said it like there would be severe consequences.
In my head, I was screaming, Getting lost would be IDEAL, actually. In fact, why don’t you lot wander off first?
But, being the responsible and totally normal person I was, I just smiled and turned to Leander. ‘Come on, let’s go see the flower.’
He nodded, as obedient and sweet as ever. ‘Okay.’
If only he knew.
We all crouched in front of the potted plants, studying the unassuming little stalks with tiny spines. They weren’t exactly winning any beauty contests.
‘This is it?’ Mireille wrinkled her nose. ‘I expected something… grander.’
Linnea, ever the optimist, waved a hand. ‘Mireille, you have to see it in full bloom. It’s gorgeous! Like… um…’ She trailed off, struggling for a comparison. Her eyes landed on Leander. ‘Like him!’
I scoffed. ‘Leander is way prettier than a flower.’
Leander looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. His face turned the cutest shade of pink.
‘So when does it bloom?’ Mireille asked, perking up.
Linnea shrugged. ‘No idea. Could be a few days.’
Mireille groaned. ‘Ugh, I won’t be here then. What a waste.’
Linnea brightened. ‘Stay a few more days! Then you can see it.’
I was tempted to nod. That was actually a brilliant idea. If Mireille stayed, then Leander would, too.
But Mireille shook her head, looking regretful. ‘You know I can’t. House rules. No overnight stays.’
Linnea puffed out her cheeks in frustration. ‘Ugh, that sucks.’
Then, suddenly, a mischievous little grin spread across her face.
‘What?’ I narrowed my eyes.
‘Oh, I just thought of a way Mireille can stay and see the flowers,’ Linnea said.
We all leaned in, waiting for her master plan.
Linnea took Mireille’s hand. ‘Marry me! If you become my wife, then this will be your home, and you can look at the flowers whenever you want.’
Before she even finished, my hand instinctively shot out and smacked her right on the head.
‘Ow! Anne! That hurt!’ Linnea yelped, hopping on one foot as she clutched her poor, unsuspecting skull.
Mireille leaned in to check if Linnea had sustained some tragic, life-threatening head trauma. Leander struggled to hide a smile.
I cleared my throat. ‘Linnea, you can’t just go around proposing marriage like it’s a clearance sale at Chanel. That’s not how this works.’
Then I turned to Mireille, attempting to salvage the situation. ‘You should take a pot of the cactus with you. That way, you can admire them whenever you want, no wedding vows required.’
Mireille slowly turned her gaze on me, then on Leander, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Something about the way she looked at me sent a shiver of unease down my spine. It was that knowing look—the one that said she might have just figured something out.
Oh no.
But then, she smiled. Graceful. Effortless. Like she had all the time in the world to play whatever game we were unknowingly caught in. ‘Alright, then. I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you.’
Crisis averted. For now.
Linnea, still rubbing her head, muttered something under her breath but didn’t push the topic further.
I glanced at Leander. He had exchanged a look with his sister, communicating in the wordless way that siblings did, and was now smiling at me—his usual, easy, heart-melting smile.
Seriously, how did he do that? Just… smile like that and make it impossible to think straight? It wasn’t fair.
Before I could spiral further into that dilemma, a servant approached, holding Linnea’s phone like it was a cursed object. ‘Miss Linnea, your phone.’
Linnea blinked. Then, ever so casually, she took the phone, lifted it to her ear, and said, ‘Hello? Who is this?’
A sharp, no-nonsense voice cut through the speaker. ‘Your mother.’
Linnea yelped and physically recoiled, nearly dropping her phone. Then, turning to me, she mouthed a single word: ‘Mom.’
All of us, in eerie synchronization, shut our mouths.
Linnea, now sweating bullets, brought the phone back to her ear and let out a forced little laugh. ‘Mother dearest! To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?’