Chapter Twenty-Three
THE FOLLOWING WEEKEND, Cierra was rolling a carry-on across the tarmac to the Lawsons’ private jet.
The sky was a solid azure blue, spreading vastly over the horizon, and everyone, including Zelda, was in good spirits.
She had insisted on chartering something for all New York attendees, which consisted of the Lawsons, Erik and Mia, Randy, a few members of Sincha’s leadership team, and some investors.
“This is just like going on family vacation,” Mia excitedly whispered to Cierra as they approached a gleaming white aircraft with butlers awaiting the group with trays of champagne.
“Right,” Cierra replied, readjusting a bulky tote bag while trying not to drop her water bottle and phone.
Mia was in a jumper set, showing off her long legs with chunky heeled sandals.
Cierra had caught some attendees taking a sneaky peek.
But as usual, Mia seemed totally oblivious, yapping away about all the things they had to do once they landed.
It was hard for Cierra to keep up, though, as she had barely gotten any sleep and her stomach was in knots.
She and Julian had only talked via text since the night she told him about Erik.
And that, coupled with the stress of managing this weekend and her upcoming audition, was enough to make Cierra feel like she had a hangover already.
She politely declined a drink while a steward took her bags, and she trudged up the stairs into the cabin.
Cierra picked a seat — booth, rather — next to the window, and Mia plopped down across from her.
Mia tilted her head, still wearing her over-sized sunglasses, with her delicate champagne flute in hand.
“Cierra, what’s going on with you?”
Cierra quickly checked to see who all was around before responding.
“Just some stuff going on with Julian. A misunderstanding. I’ll tell you about it when we land.”
“Hmm. Okay, fine. Do I need to call anyone to handle him?”
Cierra smiled, appreciating her friend’s loyalty, while feeling like if anyone needed to be “handled,” it was her. She still hadn’t told Mia about what really happened in the Catskills.
“Nah, it’s not like that. Nothing major, just an argument earlier this week.”
“I feel like something is always going on with you two. First, he didn’t want to be serious. Now you’re all gloomy while we’re on a freaking private jet because of a ‘misunderstanding.’ You guys haven’t even dated that long. Isn’t it a little early for all this?”
Exhausted and defensive, Cierra crossed her arms and sighed. “Not everything about love or relationships is easy, Mia. It’s a lot of work. You wouldn’t get it.”
At that, Mia tossed a piece of hair she’d been playing with and narrowed her eyes. “Okay, I’m going to choose not to take that personally, because I love you and we’ve been friends for too long. But whenever you want to stop taking your shit out on me, let me know.”
Mia leaned back, slowly picking up her purse before removing her glasses and moving over to where Erik was sitting.
Randy was there, too, along with a few others.
When Erik saw Cierra sitting by herself, he made a confused face and motioned for her to come and join.
She appreciated his gesture, but gracefully refused by clasping her hands together, making a sleeping motion.
But at what felt like the same moment she fell asleep, she heard the pilot overhead alerting the cabin to put their seatbelts back on; they’d be landing in thirty minutes.
Mia had returned at some point and was poking around on her iPad.
She stuck her tongue out at Cierra and went back to it, which was fine by her.
The pair spent the rest of the descent in awkward silence.
Cierra sat with the Lawsons in a black car on the way to the resort.
Zelda’s team had booked out an imposing southern mansion right next to the water, flanked by a recreational center, horse stables, and ample grounds with hiking paths and ponds.
While Cierra was getting de-sensitized to lavish surroundings, the gothic lushness of the southeast was undeniably breathtaking.
Live oaks adorned with sweeping Spanish moss lined the long driveway to the big house.
If not for the fact she was riding in a car, Cierra felt like she could have been seeing the same image from a hundred years ago.
The effect wasn’t just on her either. Elliot had quieted, observing the landscape in quiet appreciation.
Even Zelda had ceased looking at her phone.
“Don’t you just love plantations?” Zelda asked Cierra. “They’re just so . . . gorgeous.”
“Uh . . .” she said, a little thrown by the wording of the question.
“You know, aside from all that slavery business that built the place,” Erik chimed in, voicing what Cierra was thinking.
Zelda frowned, annoyed at him for ruining her moment. “Well, of course, that was awful. I meant the architecture, Erik. Obviously.” Zelda looked helplessly at Cierra. “Sorry if that was insensitive.”
“It’s fine.” What she wanted to say was, ya think? But she was on the job and couldn’t risk making Zelda uncomfortable. She was too close to the finish line.
Pulling up to the resort, Cierra found her room that she was sharing with Mia, only to find her best friend already putting her clothes away.
“Wanna come grab groceries with me?” Cierra asked.
“Not really,” Mia said in a clipped, professional tone, without looking in her direction. “Oh, and I’m still mad at you.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that.”
Instead of replying, Mia sprayed sickly sweet smelling body mist all over herself that reminded Cierra of a middle-school locker room and left without saying where she was going. Probably to see Randy, from the looks of their nonstop flirty interaction since deplaning.
Cierra huffed and put her stuff down. In their many years of friendship, what Cierra had learned was that Mia just needed a few hours to be dramatic when they got into spats like this.
When she looked down at her phone, half expecting to see a reconciliation text from Mia, she saw a message from Erik:
Erik: I’m starving, wanna grab lunch?
Cierra: I need to head into town asap to pick up the groceries :/
Erik: Perfect! I already got the keys to the rental. Meet downstairs in 15?
Cierra groaned. Just what she needed after her proclamation to Julian about her and Erik being platonic: some one-on-one time in the scenic countryside of the Carolinas.
The heat was unpleasant, but the humidity was downright oppressive.
Cierra opted to change into sports shorts, a moisture-wicking tank top, and threw her hair into a top bun.
It’s not like she needed to look good for anybody (certainly not Erik), and with three different stores she needed to hit before seven p.m. or “supper time” or whenever stores closed around here, she needed to get a move on.
Erik was already waiting near the front door when Cierra came downstairs. He was chatting with Randy and Mia, who promptly peeled off at the sight of Cierra.
“What was that?” Erik asked, intrigued by Mia’s antagonistic flair.
“Nothing, just a misunderstanding. We’re fine.”
“Whatever you say, Chef. Ready to hit the town?”
So we’re back to chef, Cierra thought. It was probably for the best. And by town, Erik meant a rural suburb of ten thousand, spread across ten square miles of forest and swamp.
“Let’s do it.”
The rental turned out to be a Jeep, which looked cool but was insanely bumpy and loud.
They needed to head to the florist first, since they were closing in just under an hour, according to Google Maps.
Cierra tried calling the place, hoping they didn’t close early, but couldn’t get any signal in the rural woods.
Even if she got through, it’s not like she’d be able to hear anyone on the other end. After a few dial tones, she gave up.
“WE SHOULD BE THERE IN NO TIME,” Erik bellowed, trying to raise his voice above the sound of the engine and the music he was playing. “THANKS AGAIN FOR—”
As soon as they hit a paved highway, the sound of gravel and thrashing back and forth ended. “Thanks again for driving.”
“No problem,” Cierra said nicely enough, but her inflection almost came across as professional, like she was an Uber driver and not someone who’d spent nearly the entire summer with the man to her right. Nervously, she grabbed a few Skittles from the bag she had propped in the drink holder.
“I needed to get outta that place. I can barely stand some of those people,” he said, like he wasn’t one of them, and grabbed some candy himself. “So, what all do you have to do for this audition? Obviously, they already have a finger on the scale for you.”
“That appears to be the case,” Cierra said somewhat regretfully.
Another reminder that this spot was hers to lose; whether she sank or swam was purely resting on her performance.
“I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much.
It’s not like I have a spot on the show yet or anything.
I think I might have gotten too excited when I got the audition. ”
Erik made a face of disagreement. “Cierra, last time I checked, getting selected for a callback is still a massive achievement, right?”
“Julian said I should save the excitement for the actual win.”
“Right,” he replied with a frustrated exhale. “Don’t you think you’re being a little tough on yourself?”
“He has a point. I have a lot riding on this.” Her heartbeat accelerated at the thought. Her grip tightened around the steering wheel as her head got that squeezed walnut feeling again.
“Whoa, I think you just missed our turn.”
“Sorry,” she muttered, keeping her eyes out for the next intersection where she could make a U-turn.
They drove on, mostly with Cierra lost in thought while Erik periodically remarked on a tree or a bird flying by. “Are you okay?” he finally said in a concerned tone.
“Yeah, fine. Just distracted.”
“Alright.”