10. Sebastian
Chapter ten
Sebastian
E rnest.
Perfect, right?
Lily sent Ernest over, as requested, and I should retreat. Especially because I can’t seem to resist flirting with Iris—despite all my very noble intentions to normalize last night’s encounter and bring us back to friends and colleagues. I was doing okay initially, but then I sabotaged it.
Iris laughs and holds out her flour-covered hands. “I’m not sure you want to shake my hand. I’m so glad you could make it.”
Ernest says, “I’m so glad you invited me.”
I know I told Lily to send Ernest over, but…
“I thought you like cookies with chocolate,” I say grumpily. “Maddie over there is making chocolate chip cookies, and she doesn’t have a partner.”
“Yes, Lily suggested I join Maddie, but I explained that you had both invited me and it would be rude not to join you,” Ernest says.
Ah, so Lily definitely didn’t listen to me.
“We can probably borrow some chocolate chips and use them as buttons for the gingerbread men,” Iris says.
No. Does she really want Ernest here?
“You don’t like chocolate chips with your gingerbread?” Iris asks me. “You just frowned.”
“I like a lot of chocolate chips in my chocolate chip cookies,” I say. “We shouldn’t take any away.”
“I’m happy to stay here,” Ernest says. He washes his hands and sits on the stool next to Iris.
“Do you want to roll out some dough?” Iris asks. “Did you bring your own apron? Do you need an apron?”
Well done.
“No, I’m content to watch you guys. I’m not much of a cook,” he says. “Mother does the cooking at home.”
I swear I can see Iris crossing aprons and cooking utensils off any Secret Snowflake gift list. But maybe she should by buying gifts for Mother too.
“You can still make cookies with us.” Iris gestures to the selection.
“I’ll happily pick out cookie cutters.” Ernest also picks up a heart.
Really?
“So, no cooking. What do you like to do in your spare time?” Iris asks.
“What spare time?” Ernest asks. “Just kidding…but work has been crazy lately, especially with all the concern about cost-cutting and competing with Albuquerque. It’s insane. It’s not like I can conjure up cheaper office space.”
“But you were the one who made the suggestion that we work from home and have a desk rotation for days in the office,” Iris says.
“How’d you know that was me?” Ernest asks.
“Our boss cited it in our Monday team meeting as an innovative example, suggesting we should emulate it.” Iris rubs her right wrist. She rolls it around. She did that yesterday too after she handed out the bingo sheets at the party. “So, no hobbies?”
“You and Lily are very into hobbies,” Ernest says, his brow furrowed.
“We are?” Iris looks quizzically at me.
I shrug. “Remember? Lily wanted to know what everyone’s hobbies are, in case she decided to give out party favors.”
Iris nods, an appreciative glint in her eyes. “Of course.”
“Knitting,” Ernest says.
“You knit?” Iris asks.
Ernest knits? He could’ve told me he knit.
“Yes, but that’s a secret. Just between us,” Ernest says. “Mother taught me.”
“And me,” I say. “I’m still here.”
“Why are you still here?” Ernest asks, teasing. “Shouldn’t you catch up with Rupert?”
I should. I should definitely leave them to it.
Ernest turns to Iris. “I bet you’re surprised?”
“My ex knitted. Briefly,” Iris says.
Is being a knitter good or bad?
Rupert and Lily join us.
“Did I tell you that Rupert woke up at six a.m. and went to a Target in New Jersey on Tuesday to get the new release I wanted?” Lily asks. “He was waiting there when it opened at eight a.m. I thought he’d gone for a run, and then he surprised me with breakfast in bed and the latest Wilhemina Chrissy novel.”
Lily beams at Rupert.
“You couldn’t pre-order it?” Ernest asks.
Way to dampen the celebration of Rupert’s romantic impulsiveness.
But Iris smiles at Ernest. Does she agree with Ernest’s more practical position?
I practically slap myself for caring but catch myself just in time and rub my forehead. Whatever she’s interested in, it doesn’t matter.
“I did pre-order it, but that doesn’t always guarantee its arrival on release day,” Rupert says. “I thought this was safer.”
The buzzer rings, and Lily and Rupert excuse themselves to greet the next guest.
My phone timer rings. Iris reaches for the potholders, but I volunteer to do it.
“Does your wrist hurt?” I ask.
“Too much clicking on my mouse last week during that investigation,” she says. “I have a brace I can wear this week.”
“You need to be careful with that,” Ernest says. “Mother had carpal tunnel pain when she worked, and it really hindered her.”
I take our first tray of cookies out of the oven.
“Is that a Santa with a red cape? Did his hat break off?” Ernest asks.
“Definitely not a Santa,” I say.
Iris smiles at me and says, “More in the Grinch family line.”
“Did you make the hearts?” Ernest asks Iris. As she nods, he says, “I’ll have to eat one.”
“They’re still hot.” I scoop the hearts off the tray with a silicone turner, away from Ernest’s hand reaching out, and place them on the wire cookie rack.
Iris makes another heart in the dough, and Ernest suggests that he give it a try after all. He takes the heart-shaped cookie cutter from her and places it right next to the heart she just made.
Ugh.
She’s making a snowman on the other side of the dough. I quickly place a Christmas tree-shaped cutter there before Ernest can place a matching snowman.
But he’s still making hearts. Nonstop.
I can’t watch this.
And I shouldn’t.
I need to stick to my original position that it’s better to be friends, given how our entangled our lives are.
“I see Rowena just arrived. Rupert’s cousin,” I say. “I should go speak to her.”
Iris’s brow furrows, and I think she looks disappointed. But she recovers quickly. I hesitate for a moment, but Ernest makes another heart.
I put a snowflake cookie cutter into the dough next to it.
“Don’t forget to make some snowflakes,” I say and leave. Ernest is chattering away again.
Rowena is studying the book titles in Rupert’s library in the living room and drinking from a mug. They’re going to have to add more bookcases if Lily moves in.
“No cookie-making for you?” I ask Rowena, joining her.
She turns and smiles and gives me a huge hug. “Sebastian. I’ve missed you. Where have you been hiding yourself?”
“Work. And now there are concerns that Dream may close, so moving may have been a mistake.” But I’ve learned a lot about working for an entertainment company.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. “I thought Dream was doing well. I enjoyed the last film we saw.”
“It flopped at the box office, unfortunately,” I say. “Anyway, let’s not spend more time on that depressing news. Still keeping your boyfriend mysterious?”
She frowns. “He failed the camping test.”
Rowena is co-CEO of Strive Developers with Rupert, so she always fears men are dating her for her money. She takes them camping as a first date to see if they express disappointment because they expect more of a high-flying life with her.
“I’m sorry. But don’t you take them camping as a first date?”
“He was too smart to fail that first date, but eventually it became clear.” She narrows her eyes as if she’s envisioning a million ways to torture him. The thing is, I’m sure the guy also liked Rowena for Rowena. I don’t see how he couldn’t.
“I told you we should have fake dated and made both our families happy,” I say.
“Too happy. They’d have us married and miserable in no time. But…” She tilts her head and studies me. “‘I told you?’ Is that offer no longer on the table? Are you falling for someone?”
Falling ? Nailed. Rowena is so quick.
“Hardly. But you’ve turned down the offer enough times that I’ve given up,” I say.
She narrows her eyes at me, but when I shrug, I think she takes me at my word. “I need a refresh of my hot cider. Let’s get some for you too.”
I follow her across the living room to the bar. I’m careful not to look over to the long stainless steel kitchen counter in the back to check on whether Iris is still making cookies with Ernest. Rowena would spot my interest in a second.
We each pour cider into a mug.
“I saw Melody at the Gala the other night.” Rowena pauses, as if she’s confirming I’m okay hearing about Melody. And I am . Apparently. Even Rowena seems to sense this.
Am I finally over Melody?
And I need to stop saying that I’m committed to remaining single. Iris literally winced when I was about to say it again—until she stopped me. When Melody first ended our relationship, I meant it, but over time, it’s become more a reflex than something I really mean.
Rowena says, “Melody looked good. She does like that life.”
“What life?” I ask.
“The life of attending New York City galas.”
I shake my head. “Melody’s not like that. She’s from a small town, and she always said those parties intimidate her.”
“She wasn’t like that. She likes them now. She was holding court among several women. She definitely knows how to maneuver in that crowd now.” Rowena’s tone is decisive. “She’s changed. A lot.”
“She has to—to help her fiancé,” I say. We move to stand at the full-length windows that look out over the rooftops of the Upper West Side, round water tanks dotting the landscape. It’s definitely a different view up here.
“Well, yes. But she also chose that fiancé.”
“I think she fell in love with him. I’m not sure it was a fully rational choice.”
Rowena grins at me. “You’re a romantic too—like Rupert. But I wish you would stop wasting your time pining for her. I was actually hoping that maybe you had found someone earlier.”
“You never liked Melody,” I say.
“Not particularly. That’s true.” Rowena shrugs. “But I also think she realized you were not going to follow in your father’s footsteps, and that’s why she dumped you for Wim—not because of you personally. She still has this warm tone when she speaks of you.”
“You did tell me to take her camping when we first dated.”
“You should have.” Rowena shakes her finger at me.
“Melody definitely did not want to go camping,” I say. “Anyway, at least she didn’t dump me for my best friend.” That was high school—and brutal back then.
“You’ve really made some terrible love life choices,” Rowena says.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Maybe you should use Grandpa’s help. He and Mr. Devi keep trying to set me up.”
“Doesn’t sound like they have a great track record. Plus, my mom is already on this full-time.”
I can’t help looking over at Iris. Could Ernest stand any closer?