Chapter Thirteen
JULIAN ARRIVED RIGHT on time, this time in his car, which she’d never seen: an all-black Alfa Romeo.
He was leaning against his car door when a wide, hungry smile spread across his face upon Cierra coming out to meet him.
She wore a cherry-red dress that had drawstrings near the bust and a cinched waist. Her hair was fully down, in a crown of coily curls that looked like a fluffy halo.
Her skin had browned even more from her trip to Mexico, bringing out the richness of her cocoa-colored eyes.
“Whoa, look at you,” Julian said with awe as he wrapped her in a hug and placed a respectful kiss on her cheek. His touch was becoming more familiar. “And I love your hair, by the way.”
Growing up, she’d straightened her curls for years in hopes she’d fit more with the girls she went to school with, even most of college. It wasn’t until the last few years of her life that she’d embraced her natural looks more.
Cierra blushed. “Thanks.”
He winked in response.
On the way to the theater, a small indie establishment where the workers were all aspiring actors themselves, Julian asked Cierra about her trip and demanded photos. One of the photos she displayed was a panoramic view of the villa during the party, catching all the guests in full glamor.
“Impressive event. Very chic.”
“Right?”
Julian tapped the photo, toward the far-left, where Cierra stood fully clad in her chef outfit with curls escaping her bun and a big smile.
“I bet you were by far the star of the show.” Cierra rolled her eyes at his flattery, and he kissed her hand and waggled his eyebrows.
A ham, but self-aware. “I mean it. Anyone can wear a nice dress. Rented or bought. But genuine talent, your energy, that’s what makes someone shine. It’s insanely attractive.”
She glanced back at him. “Thank you. Actually, something pretty cool happened in Mexico.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“You know that cooking show, Plated?”
“Yeah, it sounds familiar.”
“Well, one of their producers reached out, asking me to submit an application.”
“That’s amazing, so, you got scouted? Seems like a great opportunity. Are you gonna go for it?”
“I think so.” She wasn’t ready to tell him the whole sob-story of what had happened her the first time around. The ambitious, sought-after version of Cierra he knew would suffice for now.
“So, what about you?” she said, changing the topic. “What did you get up to this weekend?”
“Went to a colleague’s birthday party, his fortieth. God. Hmm, let’s see, ran in the park Saturday morning. Thought about you. And I’m thinking about starting a business,” he said casually.
“A new business? Why?”
“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I’m not doing enough with my life, you know? You get it, being an entrepreneur yourself.”
“I mean, sure, but . . .” Cierra wasn’t sure how to tastefully word the next part. “Doesn’t part of you want to just enjoy what you have?”
While his total net worth was unknown to her, two homes, a sports car, and sitting on charity boards painted a picture. With that much money, Cierra couldn’t figure out why someone would still want all that stress. What did he have left to prove? It’s not like he was at square one.
Julian gave a knowing laugh. “I guess there’s something I miss about feeling like I have a challenge, something to win. It’s how I’ve always been.”
She thought of her own challenges, the thrill she got at the sight of her first paycheck, and the suspended disbelief she felt seeing the message from Gabriel.
“What about you?” he asked. “What made you so ambitious?”
The car came to a halt. As Julian looked back to parallel park, Cierra took a minute to respond. Had anyone ever asked her that?
Had she ever wondered?
In the fifth grade, her crotchety teacher, Mrs. O’Connor, had called her parents after Cierra and a friend got caught cheating on a test. Unlike Lisa, who naturally excelled at school and had no issues focusing for hours on end, Cierra was squirrely and had a more difficult time.
But Mrs. O’Connor had accused Cierra of being a “bad influence” and told Cierra’s mom as much.
“It wasn’t my idea,” little Cierra had pleaded. “We both cheated. It’s not fair that my parents got called and not hers.”
“I believe you,” her mom had said, with dejected eyes. “Sometimes, when you look different, people treat you unfairly. Sometimes, they do it without even realizing it. It’s not fair, but it’s something you need to know.”
Out of the eighteen kids in her class, she was one of two that weren’t white.
“Is it because I’m brown like you?”
Her mom’s mouth turned downward. “Things are a little different for us. I need you to be extra good, because we need to set an example. You understand? You can’t give some people any reason to believe the bad things that they already think about people like us.”
Returning to the present with Julian, Cierra sighed. “Probably started when I was a kid,” she said flatly. “My parents — my mom, especially — made it clear early on I needed to try harder than my peers.”
Julian tilted his head with a knowing look.
“I get it. My parents were so set on me fitting in they barely spoke Spanish around me. I mean, I know they were just trying their best, but still.” He raised his eyebrows with wide eyes, and Cierra laughed awkwardly.
There was a kinship among people like them, trying to forge ahead in a world that didn’t look like them.
A world that, often not explicitly, encouraged people to screen themselves.
Cierra had been doing it for so long, that even changing her hairstyle as an adult felt like a daring expression of individuality.
It felt good to be with someone who didn’t just sympathize but understood from experience.
“All right, therapy session is officially over,” Cierra exclaimed while unlocking her seat belt. “We’re gonna be late for this movie.”
“Yes, yes. Let’s go, but don’t you dare get out before I open the door. Got it?”
Cierra flushed at his demand. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
The movie festival ended up being a fascinating — and at times, confusing — combination of short films. At one point during a scene featuring an alien studying a (scantily clad) human body, Julian whispered, “Who knew aliens were so horny?”
This elicited a laugh from Cierra and a dirty look from the couple in front of them.
Julian just shrugged. He kept his hand on her thigh for most of the film, and whenever he’d slightly squeeze or even stroke his thumb, she felt electric shocks travel directly from her legs to an area untouched for ages.
Cierra was in a fantasy realm of her own for most of the movie.
As the restaurant was just a ten-minute walk from the theater, they opted to walk along the lively avenues of lower Manhattan until they reached the charming hole-in-the wall.
It had a burgundy awning and a chalk sign with the daily special: Duck confit.
Upon the sommelier’s recommendation, they ordered a bottle of Sancerre with an assortment of small plates.
“This might be the best wine I’ve ever tasted,” Cierra said with astonishment after her first sip.
“I’ll have to remember that then,” Julian replied, before taking a sip himself. “Have you ever been to Napa Valley?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“We should go together sometime.”
Cierra twisted her mouth. “You’re not serious.”
“I very much am. Do you like travelling?”
Cierra shifted. “I do, but haven’t done as much as I would have liked.” She thought of Positano, of all the times she bookmarked places to go, but never did because of her schedule, or lack of funds, or both. “Going to Mexico was so much fun, but obviously it’s not ideal working most of the time.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“But as soon as I get more settled, I definitely want to. It’s a goal of mine.”
“Mine too. Maybe we can help each other. Where should we go first?”
She smiled, thinking about what a vacation would be like with him. They looked good together, didn’t they? The picture of Harry and Melanie came back to her, but it left her mind just as quickly as it had entered.
All the courses had been delicious at dinner, and Julian offered to drive Cierra home after he’d settled the bill (when Cierra reached for her wallet, he’d told her to stop being ridiculous, which she’d loved).
He found a parking spot near Cierra’s apartment and shut off the engine.
They both unbuckled their seat belts but were mutually reluctant to end the night.
Instead, they looked at each other with big smiles until they started giggling, as if they were high schoolers staying out past curfew.
Julian rubbed his index finger along his bottom lip, deep in thought, while maintaining eye contact with Cierra, kind of like a jungle cat.
“What is it?” Cierra asked playfully.
“I just wasn’t expecting you,” he said simply.
Cierra gazed into his warm brown eyes and thought back to their night in Central Park, when Julian said he’d go at her pace.
All their time spent together had so far felt like a dream.
Each time she opened up, whether about her past relationship or her career doubts, he’d always been supportive.
Their dates had all been brilliantly planned, and there was no doubt in her mind that the feelings bubbling up inside her were reciprocated.
Looking back at him, she could envision them together.
As something more. And based on how he’d been acting, like calling her when she was out of town and making travel plans, maybe all he needed was a go-ahead.