Chapter Seven #2
After setting down her leather backpack, Cierra followed Zelda through the living room and into the kitchen, which was outfitted with every modern appliance imaginable.
Floor-to-ceiling glass showed off a coveted, lush backyard garden, and the home’s walls were at least twelve feet high.
Like most real estate in this tax bracket, the open-floor concept showed off the kitchen and dining area.
There was even a built-in booth between the garden and kitchen, which appeared to be more for personal use.
“Cierra, why don’t you take a seat in the breakfast nook, and I’ll grab us something to drink? Green tea okay with you?”
“Green tea sounds great, thanks.”
Zelda didn’t respond verbally but gave a subtle nod and glided to the pantry.
Cierra wasn’t sure how to read her. The woman was intense, but perfectly hospitable, like at the dinner party.
While she was fetching the tea in the kitchen, Cierra could hear her talking and laughing with a familiar male voice: Erik.
She’d nearly forgotten about him. Instantly, she felt a thousand times more self-conscious.
Gathering herself, she took a few deep breaths. Cierra needed this job ASAP. And for the interview, all she needed to do was act as if she felt the complete opposite.
They’re lucky to have me. They’re lucky to have me.
Zelda reappeared with a bamboo tray in her hand. Atop the tray were two black clay mugs and a steaming teapot, from which bright floral and jasmine-touched scents flowed.
A few steps behind Zelda appeared Erik, engrossed in his phone.
His clothes, like Zelda’s, looked comfortable in an affluent way.
Faded tan chinos and a half-way unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt revealed a sand-colored, well-toned body.
He reminded Cierra of a young Keanu Reeves, with his shaggy dark brown hair and deep hazel eyes.
He also reminded her of every handsome douche Harry had worked with in consulting.
What’s he doing here?
“As promised,” Zelda said. She ceremoniously placed a small handle-less cup in front of Cierra and poured the tea with effortless flourish. The tea tasted even more aromatic than it smelled. Cierra’s first sip made her reconsider the grocery-store green tea packets she kept at home.
“Sorry for the wait, Cierra. Erik keeps showing me these dumb videos . . .” As she started laughing again, he glanced up to stretch out his hand.
“Nice to see you again,” he said with seemed like a genuine smile. “Zelda’s been going on about you all week.”
“Just me?” Zelda said accusingly, and then looked at Cierra. “He was explaining to me how big of a deal it was that you worked at Terra, I didn’t realize just how prestigious the restaurant was. Your experience is really something.”
“Oh, that’s, uh, high praise. Thanks,” she said, slightly buzzing that Zelda had been excited to see her. And surprised by Erik’s apparent online snooping, especially given their brief conversation.
“Do you live in New York? Or visiting from somewhere else?” Cierra asked, making small talk with Erik as Zelda had gotten sucked into responding to an email on her phone.
“I live in the city full-time, have for a few years now, but needed a place to stay, so”—he shrugged—“I’m currently crashing with my brother and sister-in-law.
” Cierra recognized the unsure smirk he made after saying so; she often made the same face whenever she disclosed living with Mia while she was “between leases”.
“And we’re so happy to have you,” Zelda replied, putting her phone away. “Even though you have a habit of distracting me.” She turned to Cierra. “If you take the job, I’ll give you full power to kick him out whenever you need to.”
Erik looked appealingly towards Cierra. “Listen, I mostly work out of the house, so I’ll be out of your way.
You’ll have zero problems from me. Anything to escape another evening of Zelda’s rice bowls, or worse .
. .” He bared his teeth while tilting his head toward the leftovers on the stove.
With a quick swipe, he grabbed an apple from the kitchen island and began to walk away.
“Or worse, what?” Zelda snapped at him.
He continued to saunter on and briefly turned his head to take a chunk out of his apple. “Oh, and I have a date later tonight, so I probably won’t be home till later.”
“Is that the same girl you saw last week? From that app?” Zelda lifted her eyebrow with a hint of disapproval.
“Listen, we all can’t find our soul mates at underground gallery openings, like some people. And yes, her name is Nadine. We’re just getting to know each other.”
Zelda rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law’s comment and placed the cat-eye glasses, which had been perched on her head, on the bridge of her slim nose. “I don’t see what’s so difficult about meeting people in person.”
“The last time I tried meeting someone in person, I—” his eyes involuntarily flickered towards Cierra, before his cheeks immediately turned pink.
“You know what? I don’t have to explain myself.
” He raised his hands dramatically. “I’m gonna be late for work.
” He turned back around, this time disappearing from view, until Cierra heard the closing of the front door.
“Okay, so Elliot and I can’t cook for shit.
Erik has a point.” Zelda briefly took a sip from her steaming mug.
“But that’s hopefully where you come in.
We’re going to have a crazy busy summer ahead of us.
As you’ve seen, we desperately need help at home, and we’ll also need you for various events we’ll be hosting between now and Labor Day, including some travel. ”
Cierra nodded. “That should be doable for me.”
“Now, it’s a temporary position. We live in Seattle — but I have so much business to do here the next couple months and couldn’t stand the constant flying.
Anyway, I just want to be clear that this would be short-term.
Would that be alright?” She was grasping her hands together and smiling so widely Cierra could see a ruby-decorated canine.
Taking a moment before responding, she reveled in the fact that someone like Zelda could want her culinary skills this badly. Slowly, she began nodding her head, as if she were doing the Lawsons a favor. “I think that will work.”
Zelda placed a hand over her heart and bowed her chest over the table. “Oh, thank God. Sorry I’m a little nervous, I’ve just never had to deal with all”—she waved her hands around every which way—“this before.”
Cierra straightened her back, choosing to believe in the nonexistent authority she had in this situation.
Zelda carried on, “And of course, when it comes to pay, how does a flat monthly fee for the summer sound to you? I was thinking ten thousand dollars a month. I can pay the first installment before you start, and then we can go from there? But of course, this is a negotiation. If you don’t feel—”
“That’s perfect. When can I start?”
Zelda’s mouth turned upward in a grateful grin.
“Would Monday work? If it’s too soon, of course, I understand.
Oh! And I have some family and friends coming over for Elliot’s forty-second birthday party the weekend after next, and we could use the help.
” She glanced down at her watch again. “Ugh, shoot.” She looked at Cierra with apologetic eyes.
“Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta start making my way to a meeting.
” Zelda dug through her beat-up Birkin, pulled out a checkbook, and wrote out the sum that was going to keep Cierra afloat as if she were writing a grocery list. “So, Monday?”
“No problem, just let me know what time it starts, and I can get the ball rolling from there.”
“Perfect. Here, I’ll have some more formal paperwork drawn up, but in the meantime, take this. I’m really excited to have you working with us.”
With that, Zelda rose from the table, and Cierra did the same.
“Oh, no, please take your time. Enjoy the tea, I’d hate to see it go to waste. And feel free to explore around the kitchen a little before you leave.”
Zelda grabbed her things and left, calling out a last goodbye before closing the door.
Cierra looked out the window toward the backyard and sipped again at her floral tea before looking down at her check in a daze.
Ten thousand dollars.
She had never made that much money at one time in her life. While the schedule was due to be hellish, and she could tell Zelda was going to be high maintenance, the pay more than made up for it. Creative freedom, travel…
Cierra got up and walked around the kitchen.
Images of Harry’s disappointed face came to her, memories of every sweaty, thankless night at Terra and how scared she had been of things not working out.
She thought about how three days ago, she’d had no idea how she was going to afford to live in New York City, pay Lisa back, or what her life would look like next.
Quietly, she cried tears of relief. She was safe, at least for now.
Zelda’s generous salary advance had enabled Cierra to get Lisa off her back, finally move out of Mia’s apartment, and find her own place. Leaving Mia had been bittersweet, though.
“Are you sure you wanna go?” her friend asked, frowning as her gorgeous sea-blue eyes watched the movers haul away boxes.
Cierra smiled at her, conveying silently what they both knew.
It was time for her to go. If someone had told Cierra when she was ten years old that in twenty years she’d live with her heiress best friend, she would have squealed with joy.
But now, after dealing with the consequences of leaning on Harry, Cierra knew that she needed to take charge of her own life and be accountable for her own security.
Mia was lively, enigmatic, spontaneous, and generous; they hadn’t fought once.
But she couldn’t repeat this pattern again.
All the time she’d spent on apartment searching and moving helped her distract from the fact that, although he’d seemed determined to see her again, Julian had only sent one text since their bagel shop outing.
Julian: Work has been slamming me, got a new project that’s probably gonna last until next week. Rain check?
But now it was next week, and she still hadn’t heard from him. While the movers were still packing Cierra’s things, Cierra wanted Mia’s take, as someone with more experience in the casual dating realm.
“So let me get this straight, you told him you didn’t want anything serious?” Mia asked.
“Right.”
“Great, I wanted to hear you say that out loud.” Cierra frowned. “And then after grabbing bagels, and telling you he wanted to go out again, he told you he was busy with a work project until the end of this week?”
“Well, I mean, he said ‘next week’, so technically the work project could end any day of the week, not necessarily Friday. But today is Wednesday, so—”
“Cee? Babe?”
“Huh?”
“You’re obsessing. I’m sure he’ll get back, you know, when he told you he would. And even if he doesn’t, it’s not going to be the end of the world. Try to chill out, okay?”
“You’re right,” Cierra relented. “Hey, I was meaning to ask you about something.”
“You wanna cancel the movers? Tell them you made a mistake and move all your stuff back into my place?”
“Nice try.”
Mia shrugged. “A girl can try.”
“What I was gonna ask, is, could you help me with a project? Social media, like, making my profile better?”
Mia paused, looking skeptical. “I happen to remember a certain comment about social media being a ‘cesspool of narcissists’ and, what was it again? An ‘algorithmic hellscape’? Why the sudden change of heart?”
Cierra cringed, recalling a wine night a few months back where she might have gotten ahead of herself. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t really mean that. That was a lot.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And I was talking with the chef from the dinner party. He mentioned that having a larger social media following could really help me from a business perspective, so I want to take it more seriously. Depending on how things go with the Lawsons, I could maybe use it to attract more clients. But I don’t know the first thing about building an audience, and I was wondering if you could give me some tips. ”
Mia was squinting, as if she had some serious things to weigh. “I’m not sure, aren’t you morally concerned about—”
“Mia, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Social media is the future. I repent of my Luddite ways and am ready to be led into viral redemption.”
With that, Mia gave in and practically squealed with glee. “Yee! Okay, okay, I forgive you. First, we have to start with an intro video. A cute montage. I’m thinking little shots of the city, you shopping in cutesy farmers’ markets. Oh! And we’re going to need a catchy handle . . .”
As Mia rattled off her ideas, Cierra took notes and looked forward to having something to keep her mind occupied during the week.
And while she wanted to take her friend’s advice, it was hard for her not to obsess.
She knew that Julian didn’t owe her anything; it’s not like he was her boyfriend.
Still, she may as well have been thirteen again, sitting by her flip-phone, waiting for her middle-school crush to text her back.