Chapter Twenty-One
A FEW DAYS later, under the shaded canopy of Flatiron’s skyscrapers, Mia was cooling herself with a pink plastic hand-held fan while Cierra was frantically cross-checking a list she had written out against a cart’s worth of dining supplies.
It included items like terracotta tablecloths, custom champagne glasses with Sincha etched on the bottoms, and containers to be used for food organization.
“I didn’t realize they had a store for people who have a kink for finding the tiniest, most useless plastic bins to separate hair ties and bobby pins,” Mia said.
Cierra paused and glanced at Mia above the line of her sunglasses. They had just come out of the Container Store.
“In that case, you don’t even wanna know what my pantry looks like.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
Mia continued fanning herself, despite looking more physically at ease than anyone else on the steaming Manhattan block.
A final blast of summer heat emanated from the fresh black pavement and distorted the air; soon, the leaves would turn from forest-greens to the warm, coppery hues of autumn.
The Lawsons would be back in Seattle, and Cierra would be .
. . well that was completely up in the air.
She’d made peace with the fact Plated had passed her up again, but with Julian in the picture, she was now considering the option of continuing to be a private chef.
Even with its downsides, she could afford to stay in the city.
Managing her new relationship was hard enough living in the same city, and she couldn’t imagine long distance would be a walk in the park.
“Why am I here again?” Mia asked.
“Because I need your eye for centerpieces, and you’re going to be at this event, too, so we need to think about what we’re going to be producing. Also, you’ve never worked with Zelda before, so I need to go over some unwritten rules with you.”
Because of the success of Cierra’s own social media, Zelda and her team had officially brought on Mia as a social coordinator for Sincha Summit.
And while working with her best friend occasionally put Cierra slightly on edge, ultimately, she was happy to have the support.
Plus, bringing Mia along had technically been her idea in the first place.
Most of Cierra’s nerves about the upcoming gig came from what Sincha Summit represented: the end of her summer contract with the Lawsons, with lingering uncertainly about what she should do next.
Creative freedom, better salary, higher savings, living in New York, moving back home, more time with Julian, more time with her family, freedom with her schedule .
. . soon, she would have to make decisions.
Tradeoffs. But until her last paycheck cashed, spiraling could wait.
“Fine, but can we at least go to a cafe or something? I’m hungry, and my underwear is sweaty,” Mia whined.
“Sure, lead the way.”
Once the pair arrived at Pierre’s, a nearby cafe, Cierra was grateful for her friend’s insistence. Sitting down in the air conditioning felt so good she could moan. Actually, she did.
“This was a good idea,” Cierra said.
“I know,” Mia replied proudly. “But wait, before we get started, what’s going on with you? How was the trip with Julian? We barely got to talk at my party.”
The server arrived with some ice water, and Cierra greedily chugged hers before replying. Mia raised a gloating eyebrow, watching some water drip down Cierra’s face like she was a dehydrated puppy.
“The trip was amazing. His place was insane, and there was even a little garden and everything. And he cooked. On top of other things . . .”
“Good for you. You deserve to get treated. I’m glad things seem to be going in the right direction now.”
“Yeah, ever since I got back from that Catskills weekend and we talked, he’s really been putting in the effort.”
“So, are you guys, like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Cierra laughed. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Ooh, that’s a big moment! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
Cierra shrugged, looking down at her water glass. “I don’t know . . . it’s new. And I know you had doubts about us at first.”
This was part of the reason — but if Cierra was being real with herself, she knew her other worries: What if it didn’t stick?
And why did she still catch herself thinking about Erik?
Julian had apologized, met her friends, taken her to his home-away-from-home, but she still felt like she was walking on quicksand. What if this feeling never went away?
“But it’s been going well ever since that dinner, right? I know I was a little protective, but you seem genuinely happy. And, really, that’s all that matters to me.”
Cierra composed herself. “I really am. My family is visiting later this week for a Broadway show, and when I told him about it, he even asked to meet them.”
“Wow. Okay, then. That’s serious.”
“Yeah . . . I mean, it seems like the real deal.”
“So.” Mia focused her eyes. “Are you in love?”
“I . . . think so.”
“You think?” Mia said with a raised brow. “I don’t think that’s how that works. But regardless, I’m happy for you. He’s sure as hell got more personality than Harry.” She raised her plastic cup filled with lemony bits swirling in the water. “Here’s to that.”
“Thank you,” Cierra said and tapped glasses with her friend.
As the two friends carried on, Cierra occasionally noticed Mia looking curiously at something — or someone — behind her.
“I feel like this woman, girl, I don’t know, keeps looking in our direction.”
Cierra turned around to see a college-aged girl in glasses looking excited and whispering to her friends. To Cierra’s surprise, the girl got out of her seat and made her way over.
“Um, hi, sorry, this is so awkward but, um, are you Cierra Brooks?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
The girl’s face lit up, and she started to fidget even more, looking back to her friends and waving them over.
“Okay, this is so weird, but like . . . we’ve been following you for months, and I’m a huge fan. Could we take a selfie?”
Across from Cierra, Mia was practically bursting with glee and was mouthing an oh-my-god. Cierra did nothing for two seconds, stunned, before saying, “Of course!”
After snapping a picture and asking if she could tag her (which Mia urged without consultation), the girl and her friends left, thanking Cierra for the photo and gushing about a few of their favorite recipes before heading back to their table.
“You’re such a boss bitch. I hope I can get myself figured out soon, like you,” the girl said earnestly.
Mia shook Cierra’s forearm. “Oh my god! Can you believe that? You just got spotted. This is so exciting. Has this ever happened before?”
“No, never.”
“Okay, this is major.”
Instead of emphatically agreeing, Cierra gave a forced grin.
“Um, okay, why aren’t you more excited about this?!” Mia asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.
“It’s cool! It’s just, uh, it’s hard to explain,” Cierra began, unsure herself why she was having such a tempered response.
At the moment, Cierra had felt an impulse to explain to the girl that it was the Instagram persona of herself that was doing everything the right way — the authentic version was just as lost as her.
But that didn’t make any sense, either, since it was the same woman.
The rest of the lunch was fun, and they began heading back as the temperature cooled to a livable environment. Mia hailed a cab back to the Upper West Side, but Cierra got an ice cream and sat in Madison Park, with a perfect view of the Flatiron Building.
I hope I can get myself figured out soon, like you.
The college girl’s words kept repeating in Cierra’s mind.
She had nothing figured out. For the second time, she got passed up for an opportunity she so desperately wanted.
But the more she sat with the girl’s words, the more she envisioned herself looking at her life like some distant observer, not someone with an insider’s view of her rampant inner monologue.
She had a lovely apartment: nothing to boast about in Architectural Digest, but it was charming, and it was hers.
And she did like her job, and she had supportive friends and a loving family.
Maybe she didn’t have everything she wanted all at the same time, but as she sat with her ice cream in the park, a momentary lightness came over her.
The Lawsons summoned Cierra for some light meal prep and a last-minute rundown before the Sincha Summit in North Carolina, just four days away.
Based on the lack of change in her boss’s behavior toward her, she gathered Erik had stuck to his promise of secrecy, which filled her with ease.
She had been at the residence since morning, and for the first time since before the Catskills trip, things felt relatively back to normal.
Erik was there visiting, and they chatted for half an hour about various life stuff.
He even did some work alongside Elliot at the breakfast nook, which was comforting.
She had missed his company. And aside from the general buzz ahead of the event, the energy was right.
It was like Zelda’s personal tiny army were all at their stations, puttering about waiting for orders but enjoying the mundane peace in the meantime.
The last event of the summer. It was all coming to an end.
While a mix of golden beets, carrots, and yams were roasting, Cierra chatted with Elliot and Erik.
“So, any plans after work?” Elliot asked.
“My family is in town right now, so I’m having them over for dinner.”
“That’s a lot of cooking for one night,” Erik remarked. “Do they normally come into the city?”
“Not too often, but my mom loves her quarterly Broadway show, so we usually use that as a reason to see each other. Tonight though, I’m definitely ordering takeout. My sister, Lisa, her wife, Jess, and Julian are coming as well.”
“Julian?” Elliot asked.
“Cierra’s boyfriend,” Erik stated.
“How come I never heard about Julian?”