Chapter Eighteen
IN SILVER MARY Janes, a fitted navy-blue satin skirt, and a cropped bodice, Cierra weaved her way through the bustling epicenter of Union Square.
In the center of lower Manhattan, it was always lively with activity.
Young couples, groups of college kids and old-timers occupied the benches as she neared her destination.
Julian had made a reservation at Oceans, an established high-end seafood restaurant.
Like always, he was already waiting for her when she arrived.
At least she could predict his timing.
Sculpted light fixtures of glass and silver metal, suspended from the restaurant’s high ceilings, enveloped the diners in a bubbly intergalactic atmosphere.
He rose from his seat as Cierra approached, wearing dark gray pants with a patterned T-shirt and silver chain — looking every bit the suave bachelor he was.
Cierra hated how much his demeanor of casual luxury turned her on.
A hopeful yet cautious smile played on his lips, though they were pressed together; his eyes, meanwhile, were keen and watchful.
“I was worried you wouldn’t show up,” he said, sliding the wishbone chair out for her to sit. It curved perfectly behind her back.
“I wasn’t sure I was going to,” she said.
While she was getting ready, and even on the way to the restaurant, Cierra had instructed herself to own her power in the dynamic. Finding love meant taking risks, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t protect herself. She constructed a mental wall, willing herself to stay on guard.
But that was before she found herself across from his familiar, disturbingly handsome face looking at her with desperate, determined eyes.
He’d let his facial hair grow in some, his low salt and pepper beard perfectly framing a strong jaw and complementing his toasted olive skin.
The scent of his earthy cologne still lingered under her nose from when he greeted her.
Before either of them could say anything, the sommelier came by with a bottle of chilled Sancerre; Cierra’s favorite. After the initial sip of the pale-yellow liquid went down her throat, Julian cleared his.
“Listen, I owe you an apology and an explanation.”
Cierra rubbed her hands on her thighs and brushed a curl behind her ear. “Let’s hear it.”
Julian took a drink of water before beginning. Even though most tables were filled, Cierra could still hear the faint clicks of his foot tapping the floor.
“I had only been divorced for five months when we met at that tiki bar. That’s why I didn’t mind how raw and heartbroken you were being.
I was envious, even, at your ability to let it out.
It was so vulnerable, and it made me realize just how much I had been bottling away.
And so, when I got the chance to meet you again, I took it.
Because ever since I saw you chug that ridiculous cocktail down, I’ve been charmed by you. ”
They both chuckled a little. That crazy night felt ages ago by now.
A gloom then came over his face, and he looked at the table, downcast. “And then my feelings for you grew deeper, and I wasn’t expecting it, honestly.
” He looked back up earnestly. “When I woke up the night after you came back from Mexico City, I was terrified. It wasn’t until I was smelling you next to me that I realized how much I never wanted you to leave. ”
So it wasn’t just in my head, Cierra thought. It was comforting to know the spark she felt was mutual, that she hadn’t made it all up. “Okay . . . so?” she replied.
Julian rubbed his hands together. “My gut was telling me how right it felt with you, but then, like, almost instantly, all I could remember was the last time I felt that way toward someone, and how wrong I was.”
His face dropped, and while she wanted to be angry, she understood where he was coming from. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“What I didn’t tell you about my last relationship is that, well, there was an infidelity, and it left me really jaded. I didn’t want to put my trust issues onto someone else. I thought, if I wasn’t in exclusive relationships, then I wouldn’t ever be at the risk of feeling betrayed.”
“Oh, Julian . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .”
He shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.”
There were plenty of things that Cierra could point to in her previous relationship that made her wary of opening up again, but Harry had never cheated on her. And it made Cierra feel for Julian; no wonder he had been acting so strange.
He gently reached for her hand, and Cierra obliged.
“Things are so great with you, and I want us to be more. I want to meet your friends. I want you to come to Vermont. If that means living in the city more full-time, then fine, I can get a house sitter. If you give me another chance, I promise to stop being closed off with you.”
Across the table, Cierra sat, mouth half-open. How was it she had never had more than one guy like her at a time in her life, and now within a week, two successful, handsome men had made her question everything she thought she knew about what she wanted in a relationship?
“Thank you for telling me, Julian.” He gently raised her hand up to kiss it. “I was really hurt when you pulled away like that.”
Julian frowned, his face wracked with remorse. “I don’t want to lose you, Cierra. I’ll do whatever I can to prove to you I’m in this — I’m done letting shit from my past affect my future. Hopefully, one with you in it.”
Cierra was still looking in disbelief at Julian when the server came back again, but this time with a woman sauntering toward them that Cierra recognized. It was Renee, an old classmate from culinary school.
“Well, well, well, look who we have here,” she said wryly. Renee was a sturdy woman with short bobbed hair and who never wore makeup. She hailed from Maine and was renowned for her expertise with oysters, crab, lobster . . . really anything that needed tools to be consumed.
“Heard you left Terra in a real bind. Good for you,” she said.
“Stuck-up little pricks. I never liked Lana, always acted like her shit didn’t stink.
” Renee leaned in with a smug grin, and Cierra chuckled, slightly, at her boisterous old classmate but also at the much-needed mood lightening.
“You know, once she came here and sent back her dish? Freaking . . .” But before she could finish her colorful insult, Renee turned her attention to Cierra’s date, who seemed unfazed by her abrasive antics.
“And who’s this?” she said, shamelessly.
“This is Julian,” Cierra replied.
“Ooh la la, you’re both so hot. I love it. Tell ya what, how about you guys get the off-menu pre-fixe, huh?”
“Are you sure? It seems busy. I don’t wanna—”
“It’s not a problem. I love your Instagram, by the way.
I even made that crabby saffron rice dish a few days ago.
Damn, that was good.” One of the servers approached Renee, muttering something that needed her attention.
“All right, I gotta get back to work. But it was good seeing you, Cee. I’ll make sure your server knows what to do.
Nice meeting you, too, Julian.” She winked before disappearing behind a white wall leading to the kitchen.
“Is there a secret chefs club I need to know about?” he said, settling more comfortably into his seat.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
Julian laughed. “So . . . what do you think? About what I had to say?”
Feeling somewhat powerless, Cierra looked at him for a few moments before responding. “You’re not out of the danger zone yet. But I have a birthday party coming up, and I could use a date.”
He smiled. “Gimme a time and place, and I’m there.”
As they marinated in their lovers’ resolution, the server returned with their first course.
A sweet vinegar lightly coated an assortment of sashimi, which the chef had adorned with various flowers.
The couple each took a bite, savoring the expert mix of flavors, and Julian asked, “You were upstate last weekend. How was it? Get any relaxation in?”
Cierra froze with anxiety, smiling and pretending to chew on her already macerated fish paste to buy some more time.
“It was . . . a great reset,” she said, before digging back in.
Luckily, Julian didn’t have any other follow-ups, other than to insist she take off a weekend soon so he could show her his cabin.
“I mean it, Cee. No more closing myself off, I want you to feel like you know everything about me,” he said, and raised a glass. “To a fresh start.”
Cierra smiled, but then grimaced. The aftertaste of the sashimi made the wine taste like soured grapes.
A couple days after her date with Julian, Cierra found herself walking down the glistening dark gray sidewalk of the Lawsons’ street, empty save for a few passersby stomping through puddles, who had also got caught in the unexpected summer shower.
She hadn’t been back since the Catskills weekend.
Her feet squished around in her soggy sneakers while balancing a coffee in her left hand and a London Fog in the right.
Even though the weather was a bit shit, the load she was carrying was much lighter than her recent thoughts.
Zelda had called her early that morning, hurriedly asking if she could come down to talk through the upcoming Sincha Summit, a weekend retreat where Zelda and other cofounders would woo new investors to secure Sincha’s next round of funding.
And as Cierra was on the way, her boss had also sent a note asking if she could pick up coffees from a cafe nearby, accompanied by a notification from Venmo for fifty dollars.
Cierra doubted Zelda knew the price of eggs, much less coffee, but used some of the extra money for some almond and cherry pastries as Zelda likely hadn’t eaten yet, especially if she was in one of her high-strung moods.
After being last-minute summoned to work during a flash storm, Cierra could use a danish herself.