Chapter Nine
THE FOLLOWING DAY Cierra spent the morning sleeping in, as the event went a little later than expected and the clean-up took ages.
But she’d had an amazing time, and was even happier receiving an unexpected check that she sent immediately to Lisa, determined to pay her sister back as soon as possible.
While she was still curled up in bed, a chiming noise came through Cierra’s phone. After seeing the caller ID, she answered with less reluctance than she’d had in the previous months.
“Hey, sis, what’s up?”
“Oh, hey, sis, surprised you finally picked up. I was about to give up and call the police. You good? I need to talk to you. It’s important.”
Cierra swung her covers off and slid on her slippers. “Yeah, sure, what’s going on?” Her heart accelerated; the last time she’d heard her sister speak in that tone was when she got the news about their father.
“Jess and I had been keeping it on the low, but, we’ve been trying for a kid for a while now, and Jess finally took. It’s still early days, but you’re going to be an aunt!”
Dumbfounded, Cierra stood stock-still in her apartment.
“Hello??” Lisa questioned.
“Lisa . . . holy shit . . . this is incredible! I’m so excited for the two of you. You’re going to be a mother . . . wow.” Feelings of awe and excitement filled Cierra, then realization. No wonder Lisa had been so pressed about the money; she had been working on starting a family of her own.
“Thanks,” Lisa replied, sounding giddy. “And I’m so proud of you for getting that new job. The money you’ve been paying back has really helped. Those IVF treatments weren’t cheap.”
“Of course,” Cierra replied. She hadn’t mentioned that the new role, and accompanying salary, were only temporary. “Thanks again for all your help, I genuinely don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re my little sister, I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“So, got any plans this weekend?”
“Nope. Empty day . . . just the way I like it.”
Just then, the buzzer went off for her apartment, which was at least forty decibels too loud for her humble one-bedroom.
“Hold on, someone’s here.”
“Did you order anything?”
“Don’t think so. Gimme a sec.” Cierra walked over to the intercom.
“If you need to let me go, that’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we can talk more later.”
Cierra smiled. “I’d love that. Love you, Lisa. And congratulations. Tell Jess I love her too, okay?”
Cierra clicked out of the call before talking into the microphone. “Hello?”
A familiar voice came in on the other line. “Yes, um, I was wondering if you could tell me if this is the apartment of the viral Chef Cierra? We got bagels a week ago, and I just wanted to see if I could get an autograph.”
Stepping back from the small intercom, Cierra gasped with a sense of glee. “Um . . . yeah. Gimme me two minutes.”
She flipped her hair to one side and quickly put on a pair of tennis shoes and a workout dress before heading downstairs.
The excitement of Julian’s unexpected house call dampened the angst she’d been feeling the past week over his slow texting speed.
But he was here now. Mia had been right, she was reading into things.
There wasn’t a mental image in her mind of how he would look, but it certainly wasn’t in running shorts, trainers, and a revealing tank top, displaying his developed upper body.
His smell was a mix of sweat and some kind of woodsy deodorant, and his skin was extra reflective of the sun, which was defining him even more.
“Julian . . . what are you doing here?”
“I was planning on texting you to ask if you were free this week, but then I realized your new place was along my running route,” he said, grinning with that look that made Cierra want to melt. “Are house calls still a thing? Am I being creepy right now?”
She laughed. “Maybe a little old-fashioned, but I like it.” She eyed a bouquet of daisies in his hand.
He followed her gaze, and with a big grin, held them out to her, “As a house-warming gift. For you.” She took them, inhaling their sweet scent. “Sorry I had to cancel earlier.”
“It’s alright,” she said. “It’s for the best, actually. My week ended up being way busier than I thought, too.”
“Regardless, I want to make it up to you.” A grin spread across Julian’s face. “If you tell me when you’re free, I’ll plan everything, okay? I have a way lighter week coming up.”
“I’d be down for that.”
“What about Saturday?”
“That should work.”
“All right then.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll text you with details. See you then.”
As he started running down the street, the older woman who lived across the way nodded in approval of her male caller. Cierra waved at her before heading back inside, smiling to herself.
But on the walk upstairs, she remembered something he’d said which didn’t make sense — why had Julian referred to her as a “viral” chef?
Then she recalled how earlier in the week, Mia had asked for the farmers' market footage to edit down for her intro video. She hadn’t expected that Mia could’ve gotten it done and posted that fast.
Cierra: did you already post the video???
Mia: yeah! People are loving it. Have you seen it?
Cierra: why didn’t you tell me?!
Mia: :)
Cierra: I really wish you would’ve let me see it first
Mia: omg you’re such a perfectionist. Just look at it.
She double-skipped the steps to her apartment and checked her Instagram — her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. There were over thirty thousand views, and the post had only been up for ten hours. Julian must have seen it . . . Oh, God.
Cierra watched the video, and to her shock, it was a pretty good first attempt. Mia had been right, though — there’s no way she would’ve posted it herself; Cierra could point out a thousand things she could’ve done differently.
Despite this, many comments expressed encouragement, admiration of the career, and curiosity about the lifestyle. And it wasn’t just the views that were staggering. She had gained a little over one thousand followers.
Scrolling through the reactions, she was digging to see anyone familiar.
Mid like-stalking, the app prompted her to follow others she knew based on the contacts in her phone, and suddenly another aspect of that morning made sense — if she could follow people based on the contacts on her phone, then that meant that other people she knew were probably being fed her videos, not just Julian.
A long, vulnerable breath escaped her lungs. This was not how she had planned on making her influencing debut, but at least the post was high-performing.
Accounting for the advice received from Viktor and Mia, she knew she’d have to be open about her social media pursuits at some point. But this level of self-consciousness was reaching adolescent heights.
What if Harry saw the video? Cierra hated that she cared about what her ex thought of her, but she still did.
Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen each other in a few months, and she knew they were going to be in the same place soon.
Amber, the wife of Harry’s best friend, James, was throwing a birthday party.
Until now, Cierra had been avoiding most of the social events hosted by shared friends.
But the job and apartment had her feeling more confident, and she appreciated people were still reaching out.
Mia had hinted that Harry might be seeing someone new, but Cierra had played it off like she didn’t care.
It’s not like she was still heartbroken.
Besides, she was proud of the way her life had been going.
If this were a reunion, she was ready to walk into the event with her head held high, with her 2,046 followers and counting.
The birthday party was held at a vintage-themed bowling alley in a trendier part of Brooklyn.
Half of the men were wearing colorful beanies rolled a little too high, with overalls and patent leather boots.
Neon beer signs and other items reminiscent of an Oklahoma Cracker Barrel covered the walls and ceiling, even though the alley had only opened post-pandemic.
When Mia and Cierra arrived, they found several mutual friends already at the event, including a familiar man with endearing freckles and a receding hairline.
Cierra waved to Amber on the other side of the bowling alley’s bar area, who waved back with a cheery smile, before getting back to hosting duties.
“Feeling okay?” Mia asked as they entered a dimly lit hallway that smelled like beer and stale sweat. She must have clocked Harry as well.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. What about you?”
“Me? Can’t wait.” Mia had been part of a bowling league for years as a kid, so she loved any opportunity to put her impressive strike skills on display.
Cierra had gone over to Mia’s place ahead of the event, partially to catch up, since her job had been consuming a lot of her time lately, and partially to get her mind straight going into the lion’s den.
Knowing that Harry was seeing someone, and actually meeting the new woman, were two very different things.
In a stroke of good fortune, Cierra had discovered an old jumper she had previously out-grown now fit again.
The garment hugged her curves subtly, hinting at her figure without being overtly revealing.
And while at first she was going to pair it with a pair of flat white sneakers, she’d decided on wearing heeled sandals.
Was she a little overdressed? Sure. Was she actually going to be bowling?
No. Did her legs look five inches longer? Yes.