Chapter Twenty-Five
ALL CIERRA NEEDED to do was get through the next three days.
She could do anything for three days, right?
When she had been sixteen, she’d gone to a week-long camp in DC where the temperatures never dipped below ninety degrees and the humidity was so thick she got a rash from her underwear.
Yeah, she could do anything for three days, including being on vacation with her already-married ex-boyfriend.
Friday morning went by relatively easily.
Sincha’s leadership team and the investors had chartered a bus to Alligator River, where they were on a wildlife excursion, which gave Cierra some off time to spend on the beach.
She had even brought a book along but only made it to page thirty-five before the main character’s wife was revealed to have cheated on him with a mob-boss, setting off a dramatic chain of events. Cierra switched to Elle magazine.
Dinner presented a challenge, because that was the time everyone needed to be in the same place, and she had no choice but to be in his presence, to serve him, which genuinely disgusted her.
While setting his plate down, her hand trembled; they mutually avoided eye contact.
Mia managed to “accidentally” spill an Aperol spritz on his shirt, which gave Cierra an evil sense of petty pleasure in a situation that felt otherwise unbearably degrading.
Any argument between them long forgotten, Cierra felt honored and grateful to have her best friend by her side.
Then Saturday came, when it all fell apart.
Saturday evening was the closing dinner, when all the guests were instructed to wear “Vacation Black Tie,” which translated to a lot of pastel-colored linen suits for the men and equally bright but more revealing summer dresses for the women.
It was quite the photo-op. Cierra even took part and wore a short blue-and-white striped jumper that popped against her tanned, almond skin but was still comfortable enough for her to work in.
She spent the better part of the morning and afternoon prepping, ensuring each course would impress the attendees.
The day prior, when she was alone at the beach with her thoughts and the squawking seagulls, she came to a conclusion.
She figured she had two options: spend her last weekend with the Lawsons sulking because of what someone else did, or try, despite everything, to enjoy what she could.
To end her summer, at least in one area of her life, on a high note.
And she needed to talk to Erik. Tell him everything and apologize for not realizing sooner how badly she had misjudged him.
While she was preparing the final meal, she envisioned how she’d approach him.
Maybe find a secluded part of the house, or along the beach.
If he could forgive her, then, maybe . . . but she was getting ahead of herself.
At dinner, everyone was in awe of what Cierra had created, from an alligator bisque that was an homage to the southern state, to a wild berry crumble to finish.
Zelda even held a toast to her, where everyone cheered and thanked her for the service, which was touching.
If only they knew what she was going through on the inside.
The pride she’d swallowed. But it was worth it.
It had all been worth it. She even caught a glimpse of Julian, clinking the heavy butter knife against his glass, looking at her, knowing it would be the last time.
Forcing herself to look away, she focused on Erik and Mia, who beamed with pride.
After cleaning up, many of the guests were still on the patio, soaking in the last sunset glow before heading out the following morning. Cierra was taking a moment in the living room when Zelda appeared with two glasses of champagne.
“How can I even begin to thank you?” she said and handed Cierra a flute, along with an envelope. “I can’t believe it’s the end of summer already. I thought I’d give you your final payment early. With a little bonus included.”
Cierra accepted the glass and the envelope eagerly.
There was a compassionate look in Zelda’s eyes; she wondered if Erik had said something.
“Thanks, Zelda. It’s been an honor working for you.
I’ve learned so much.” While she wasn’t sure what the amount would be, there was no doubt the extra unexpected cash would give Cierra some breathing room between the casting call and taping, if she got selected for the show, that is. One less moving part to think about.
“You know, after this trip, I think you’re going to return to New York with an inbox full of requests. Not that you’ll have time for that. You have your audition this week, right? What an exciting time!”
Stroking her glass, Cierra gave a weak smile and took another sip.
“You all right?” Zelda asked, with a frown of concern on her face.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just been a busy weekend is all.”
Zelda squinted her eyes but didn’t press the issue. If anyone understood keeping things close to the chest, it was her.
“Hmm, all right then. Well. I’ve gotta go schmooze, but try to take it easy tonight.
Trust me, the work will still be there tomorrow.
And again, thank you. For everything,” she said.
Turning to re-join her guests, Zelda paused, craning her head to face Cierra.
“You know, even though Elliot and I are headed back to Seattle, Erik’s still in the city.
You two should keep in touch,” she said suggestively with a shine in her eye.
“I’m sure we will,” Cierra replied. “We’ve gotten to be good friends this summer, I think. He’s a really great person.”
“And so are you,” Zelda said with a wink.
With that, Zelda sauntered off, leaving Cierra alone with her champagne.
She took a sip, looked at everyone by the pool, and made the executive decision that she deserved a night of relaxation and not hiding in the kitchen.
She’d avoided the sight of Julian long enough; if he got uncomfortable in her presence, that was his issue — not hers. Besides, she wanted to find Erik.
Walking onto the pool deck with her glass, she started chatting with a small group of people she hadn’t met yet, and after showering her with compliments, they quickly shifted gears toward their favorite places to go for fall foliage — helicopter tours, renting out farms — the usual stuff.
Cierra scanned the area while trying to appear interested in the conversation, but she couldn’t see him anywhere.
An older man with thick gray hair and tortoise-shell glasses had just asked Cierra if she’d ever gone apple picking, but Erik’s unmistakable voice behind her at the bar distracted her.
Something was off. She detected the edge in his voice he got when he was upset — or downright infuriated.
“So, how are you enjoying the trip?” she could overhear Erik asking someone. Not just someone: Julian.
Shit.
“So sorry, but I have to excuse myself, just a moment,” Cierra said, while the group politely but curiously let her go. What on Earth is he up to? she asked herself, not wanting to acknowledge the obvious answer.
She leapt over to the pool bar area, where a slightly tipsy Erik was looming over Julian, grinning like a cat about to pounce on a rat.
“Just fine,” Julian said, gripping his glass so tightly his knuckles were white. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“God, you just, you look so familiar, I could swear we’ve met before.”
“I don’t think so. Excuse me, but I need to get back to my wife,” Julian said. But Alexandra was already approaching him, looking cheery herself and interested in the handsome young man her husband was talking to.
“Hi, babe,” Alexandra said, giving her husband a peck on the cheek that elicited a mocking aww from Erik.
Oh shit, Cierra thought to herself, now only a few feet away.
She needed to intercept this, fast. While in a way she appreciated that Erik was making Julian just as uncomfortable as Cierra had felt the whole trip, this ultimately wasn’t going to help her.
Nothing good could come from this interaction.
“And is this beautiful woman your wife, I presume?”
Alexandra giggled at his flattery. As Erik prodded, Cierra managed to insert herself into the group, Julian’s face turning a bright red color she’d never seen.
Cierra nudged Erik, saying quickly, “I think your brother was calling for you—” But he waved her off.
“I didn’t hear anything,” he said, and turned his attention back to Alexandra, who looked intrigued at the new addition. “You were saying?”
“Well, yes, I am. Alexandra Torres, nice to meet you . . . ?”
“Erik. Erik Lawson, I’m Zelda’s brother-in-law. Your husband and I have actually met before,” he said enthusiastically.
“Erik, Zelda really needs—”
“Oh? How do you two know each other?”
“Maybe the better question is, how well do you know your husband?”
Cierra and Julian froze. Good thing I already got that check, Cierra thought. Six silent seconds passed before Alexandra attempted to save the interaction. “Um, sorry . . . what?”
Julian’s fists were clenched. At this point, a few other bystanders had paused after hearing the inflammatory question.
As soon as Erik opened his mouth, Julian shoved him into the tiki bar with both hands, sending drinks and containers of limes and cherries flying. “Don’t talk to my wife like that!” he bellowed.
Erik, finding his balance, retorted, “A little rich for you to be concerned about the respect of your wife, don’t you think?”
At this point, Cierra was tugging on Erik’s arm, but it was like trying to drag an indignant bronze statue. “Erik, let’s go. Now. Please. He’s not worth it.”
At this, Alexandra raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, but how exactly do you know my husband? What’s this about?”
At this point, a crowd had gathered, and Elliot and Zelda were racing over from inside the house. Erik took a step forward, directly into Julian’s face, and leaned over to whisper in his ear.