Chapter Two
“A ugust?” the deep voice of August’s brother called as she let herself into her apartment.
“Hey, Ford,” she called back, stripping off her coat, scarf, and hat. “Everything’s still great over at your place, huh?”
He groaned and stepped into view—a slender, but tall man whose build tended to surprise people slightly if they heard him speak first. Although, he was so pale that some people were still surprised. Though, that was less about his voice not matching his build. And August wasn’t much better, but she at least had a slightly warmer complexion than Ford had.
August smiled. “Ah. Really good.”
He winced. “If I make dinner, can I stay here again tonight?”
She laughed. “You can stay even if you don’t make dinner.”
“No, no. I need to pay you back.”
“Dude, you’re a student, working a rough job, and choosing to sleep on your sister’s couch because your apartment is a wreck. You can just relax. I know how to cook.”
“I’m in culinary school. Cooking is what I do.”
“Literally what you do. And what your roommates are trying to get you to do constantly. I’m an adult. I can make food. Or order it, it is Friday night, after all.”
Ford dropped himself onto August’s couch. It pulled out into a bed, but she doubted it was all that comfortable unless you were a child. If, like Ford, you were a twenty-seven-year-old man who worked four nights a week in a diner while being in culinary school, it was unlikely to give you the rest you needed.
“Maybe I should have just stuck with my security job and never gone back to school. At least I liked my previous roommates,” he said, letting his head fall back.
“Nah,” August said, heading for the kitchen. “You hated that job, and you live for cooking. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
“Eh. If I lived for cooking, maybe I wouldn’t be so annoyed by my roommates demanding I make every meal of the day.”
“You can be…” August cast around for the name of a famous chef. “Um. Gordon Ramsey. You can be Gordon Ramsey and still be sick of everyone demanding food from you.”
“Weird pick,” Ford said, appearing in the kitchen. “He’s kind of famous for being annoyed with everyone.”
“Yeah, but he really loves food. So he’s a great example of loving food but hating people demanding it from you.”
Ford laughed and shook his head. “You might need to brush up on your Gordon Ramsey trivia, but I see your point.”
She shot him a look, setting about finishing up the drinks he’d been working on—fresh hot chocolate. Given that she was home so late, he’d guessed her arrival time bizarrely well.
She looked at the ingredients he’d been pulling out but hadn’t started anything with. He was an incredible chef. August had been delighted when he’d upped and decided he was ready to go to college—so long as it was culinary school—even though their parents weren’t convinced. But, no matter how talented he was, even chefs deserved a treat sometimes.
“What are you thinking?” Ford asked, watching her stare at the crowded worktop.
August grinned. “That we’re ordering in.”
“That’s really not necessary. I can cook. You’re letting me stay. Again. It’s the least I can do.”
“You’re sleeping on my couch. The least I can do is order you a decent meal.”
“I can make a decent meal.”
“Believe me, I know.” She shook her head. “Just think of it as… research.”
Ford laughed, some of the tension he’d been holding in his face relaxing. “Research?”
“Mm. Yes. Research is important. Gotta stay on top of what everyone else is up to.”
He shook his head, amused. “Fine. I give. And, you know, there is a truffle risotto from this place not too far away that I’ve been dying to try…”
“You got it,” August said, ladling the thick, creamy hot chocolate from the pot into the two waiting mugs. She unlocked her phone and tossed it at Ford. “Here. You can start the order.”
“I can pay—”
“Ha. No. I’m not taking money from a student whose roommates believe is required to provide and cook food for the whole apartment.”
“Oh, but if I had normal roommates, you’d be totally chill taking money from a student?”
“Yeah, you know what I’m like. Brutal. All those kids out there, studying, rolling in money. They really should be providing for us operations managers more.”
Ford laughed. Now that he was here and relaxing, it was obvious how exhausted the poor guy was. Not for the first time, August started wondering whether she should be looking for a bigger apartment, something with two bedrooms so Ford could move in and have somewhere safe to land at the end of each day.
The one time she’d floated the idea, though, he’d been insistent that he wanted to do this on his own. She was sure their parents’ questions about whether he could really make the culinary thing work, and whether he wouldn’t be better off in business or law, had influenced his desire to prove himself, but August didn’t need him proving himself to her. She already believed in him. She knew how much he was doing, and she worried it was going to burn him out.
At the very least, he needed new roommates. The three he’d ended up with had seemed great at first but were turning into a real nightmare. Truly, the only real benefit of that place was its relative proximity to his school and job.
August carried their drinks back around the corner into the living room, placing them on the tiny coffee table. She looked at the couch, thinking. If Ford felt forced to show up at her place after work again next week, she’d start apartment hunting. The situation at his place should not be so bad that he felt the best option after clocking out at four in the morning was trekking to her place rather than heading home.
“Here,” he said, handing her phone back. “There’s a bunch of options I think you’ll like.”
He wasn’t wrong.
August scrolled the menu, whittling down the various risotto flavors until she picked the one she most wanted to try. Then, without saying anything, she scrolled to the desserts and ordered two servings of peach cobbler with ice cream—Ford’s favorite.
She placed the order and put her phone down, examining Ford, who seemed to be falling apart before her eyes. “Dude, when was the last time you slept?”
He shot her a serious look. “Wednesday morning? I think.”
“Ford…”
“I know, I know. But I had a test I needed to study for, a pastry practical, work, and it was Holly’s birthday and the apartment wanted a cake and a meal and everything to celebrate.”
Ford had spent his whole life with people telling him he needed to learn to say no. It wasn’t helpful or productive for August to remind him he could have refused—at least where his roommates were concerned.
Instead, she moved to place his hot chocolate into his cupped hands. “You should stay here this weekend.”
“I don’t want to intrude too much,” he said, yawning. “And I have work tomorrow night.”
“What time?”
“Ten. Until four a.m.”
“I’ll drive you. And pick you up after.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’ll be asleep.”
“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mom.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Pretty sure that would be physically impossible.”
“Hey, look at how much they’re teaching you at that fancy school.”
“Hilarious. Really, though—”
“It’s fine. I’m doing it. I have something early afternoon, but I’m completely free otherwise.”
He perked up as he sipped his hot chocolate. “What’re you up to?”
August breathed a laugh. She should have known he’d pick up on the slightly loaded tone in her voice. “Uh. A date.”
“What?”
She nodded. “A date.”
“You’re finally dating again?”
“I guess so.”
He let out a low whistle. “Wow. Congrats. How did that happen?”
August rolled her eyes as she sipped her drink, grateful for the warm richness of it in contrast to the frosty, January night outside. “Měilíng—who has forever been against dating apps—heard about this one called Hummingbird from like five people she knows, and they all had success with it, so she joined. She’s been decidedly not dating longer than I have. But she liked it.”
“Okay. Why?”
“It’s pretty anonymous while you’re talking. You have to get checked officially when you sign up, but when you build your account, there are no photos, it’s all based on real, actual answers to questions, and it matches based on shared values and interests. That whole thing.”
“Fair. I can see that. I mean, if it got you and Měilíng back into dating, that’s an incredibly high recommendation.”
August laughed. “Well, I haven’t gone on any dates yet.”
“But Měilíng has?” he asked, twisting in his seat, absolutely fascinated.
“Mm. Yeah, one so far.”
“And? How’d it go?”
“Fantastically. She adores him and they’ve already gone on multiple dates.”
“So, pretty promising then,” Ford laughed. “Wow. You’re actually getting back out there. Dating. ”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s not a big deal.”
He smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. The date hasn’t happened yet. It might suck. And, even if it doesn’t, it’s hardly like I’m headed down the aisle.”
“Never say never.”
She shot him a look. “I am never heading down the aisle after one date.”
Ford laughed. “Fair enough. But, you know, don’t limit yourself.”
“Can you imagine any world in which you marry someone after a few fairly anonymous conversations and one actual date?”
He sipped his drink slowly. “Well, no. But still. I’m busy. Don’t limit yourself. ”
“Unbelievable,” August muttered, shaking her head. “I really am just looking to test out the waters. It’s time, I guess.”
“Plus, it might stop your colleagues from inviting you to those dinners that are obviously weird singles’ nights hosted by a married couple.”
August raised her mug in cheers. “One can only hope. Their hearts are in the right place, but one more night of speed dating at their dining table really might have me losing their numbers.”
“As if they wouldn’t bring the party to you. They’re just one of those couples.”
“Which couples?”
“The ‘sickeningly happy, believe that’s out there for everyone else too’ couples.”
“Oh, watch yourself, Fordy. You’re starting to sound bitter. Too young for that.”
“You’re not that much older,” he protested, “and you do that all the time.”
“Yeah, older siblings are just like that.”
“The double standards.”
“Dude. I’m a woman. And an eldest daughter.”
He froze, her words sinking in. “Okay. Fair play. But still, if I have to believe in romance, so do you.”
“Oh, I believe in it. I just believe people use it to break you.”
“Yeah… Good luck to your date.”
“Hey!” She whacked his free arm playfully. “I’m a catch.”
“Sure you are.”
“Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?”
He laughed brightly. “As if you’d stay up checking that I didn’t move to the couch.”
“Eh. Not wrong. Nobody has time for that.”
Ford paused for a moment before looking seriously at August. “Seriously, though, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”
August scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Cheers, bro.”
“Ugh. I’m just saying. It’s been a minute and you deserve good things.”
August smiled softly. It had been more than a minute. She’d been off the dating scene for years now—ever since she’d taken her girlfriend to a holiday party at work. She’d been so happy to have gotten a job as an operations manager at a production company and it was her first big event with her new colleagues. She’d thought the night was going great, that she was making connections and having fun. Then, she’d exited the bathroom to find her girlfriend talking in a corner to a couple of her colleagues. The girlfriend had been drunk enough to admit that she wasn’t really into August anymore but was interested in the movie connections she could make through August. After struggling through the rest of the evening without causing a scene, August had quickly called the whole relationship off and stepped back from dating.
At first, she’d thought it would just be a short break, but, as time passed, it became longer and longer, and August had felt more and more like she couldn’t trust anyone not to be using her for industry connections. It had just been easier to leave that aside while she climbed the professional ladder. Now, she was older, wiser, and professionally fulfilled. And she started thinking it might be nice to share that with someone. So, when Měilíng had told her about the app, and her own position on dating, August had agreed. She still wasn’t certain it was a great idea, but at least she could say she’d tried it.
August nudged Ford. “How nice it would be if you weren’t too busy to date and I could just be grilling you on your love life instead. Isn’t that what older relatives are supposed to do?”
He gave her a wild look. “You’re not quite that old. Calm down.”
“Oh, you don’t want me asking who you’re courting ?”
“Ew. Never say that word to me again.”
“What’s wrong with courting? It’s cute.”
“It’s ancient.”
“Eh.”
“You don’t court people these days, and you know it.” He shook his head. “You have the talking stage.”
August raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Are you in the talking stage with anyone?”
“Tell me when I’d have time?”
“Yeah, okay. But maybe it could be someone who works the same shifts as you. That’d be cute.”
“You’ve been watching too many romantic movies. Good thing you’re getting back out there.” He shot her a dark look. “Mom will be ecstatic.”
She frowned. “I’m not telling her anything. Not until there’s anything worth telling, at least.”
“Maybe they’ll run into you while you’re out on your date.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Mom and Dad are going to be swinging by that new café on Maple any time soon.”
“That’s where your date is?”
“Yes. And no, you can’t come by while it’s happening.”
“It’s a free country. How’re you gonna stop me?”
“With hollow threats.”
He chuckled. “You’re just lucky I have studying to do tomorrow.”
“Truly, I have been blessed by the homework gods.”
“Wish they’d bless me.”
“Maybe I’ll bring you something back. That’s blessing enough.”
“Yeah, you’d better.”
August laughed and checked her phone, keeping track of their order. They both knew she’d bring Ford something home tomorrow, but she was glad to see he’d relaxed enough to be snarky about it, rather than worriedly telling her she didn’t need to go out of her way for him. She was glad the poor guy had brought himself to her apartment. He was in desperate need of some good sleep and a little looking after.
Maybe some people could go to their parents for that kind of thing—college students especially—but that wasn’t an option for Ford. Their parents cared but in a… controlling kind of way, and they’d made their stance on Ford’s choices perfectly clear. It was better he was here. August could look after him without overwhelming him, and he could… hype her up for a date she feared was going to be a disaster. Just standard sibling stuff.