Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“You don’t deserve to even look at her, you cheating piece of shit.” It was so quiet, the only people who could hear the scathing remark were Cierra and Julian himself.
Erik began to turn around, satisfied, when Julian grabbed his shoulder.
Red in the face and looking like a dog backed into a corner, he swung at Erik in full force, but Erik ducked, sending Julian crashing to the ground.
Before Erik could do anything else, Elliot and another guest had held him back and started leading him back to the house.
“Erik, what the fuck are you doing?!” Zelda yelled.
Alexandra, standing in bewilderment, looked at Cierra, and then at Julian. There was a disappointment in her eyes that said everything in one glance; there was no doubt she’d made this exact face before. She began walking toward the shoreline, and Julian followed.
“Babe, honey, I’ve got no idea what that drunk idiot was talking about . . .” Julian said while trailing after her. But the look of knowing disgust on Alexandra’s face revealed she didn’t believe his words, either.
“What happened?!” Zelda asked Cierra. Cierra, open-mouthed, shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
Where to even begin.
Julian left later that evening. After a heated exchange between him and his wife by the beach, only decipherable by wild hand gestures as the breaking waves blocked out any sound, he must have lost the battle, at least for that night.
Alexandra, no doubt humiliated by the whole situation, left early in the morning to fly back to New York alone.
Breakfast was understandably strange. Everyone gathered in corners of the house, speaking in hushed tones and saying little when sitting down for the last meal.
Zelda had purple bags under her eyes but was nonetheless in full damage control mode.
She staged an emergency meeting with Sincha’s leadership to connect on how they were going to proceed.
The flight home was quiet, until Mia nudged Cierra and tried to show her something on her phone. Cierra wasn’t in the mood for any funny videos, but Mia was insistent.
“I think you’re gonna want to see this.”
There are moments in life when things are so shitty, so unbelievably clusterfucked that you think, surely — there is no way the universe could make this situation any worse. And after the previous evening, that’s exactly what Cierra had thought. But she was wrong — things could always get worse.
Apparently, one of the guests had filmed the last half of the fight, and the most incriminating. Cierra was trending. The video already had 300k views, and the TikTok community had already titled the event Messy Cheffy; the comments and hot takes were piling in.
Luckily, Cierra’s nerves were shot just enough not to panic. It would have to wait until the next day. Right now, all she could focus on was one thing at a time. She hadn’t spoken with Zelda all morning and could be black-listed already for all she knew.
“Thanks for letting me know,” is all she could say before zoning out.
When they landed, Erik walked over to Cierra on the tarmac. “Hey, can we talk? Maybe I could drive you home?”
“Yeah, of course.” She smiled, but he looked sad. Her shoulders dropped as they made their way to his truck.
“Not too many trucks in the city,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah.”
She connected to his Bluetooth and selected her favorite old-school playlist. For the first time since they’d landed, he smirked.
“That was, um . . . insane,” she said. “Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know. A little drunk. Angry, I guess.”
Erik kept driving, eyes focused on the road, but both his hands were gripping the wheel like if he let up for one moment, they might skid off the highway.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t right of me. But I talked with Zelda — she’s pissed at me, but nothing’s going to affect your last check. I can at least guarantee that.”
“Yeah, I know — she gave it to me in North Carolina, actually.” But in this moment, job security, shockingly, wasn’t the most pressing thing on her mind. “I really had no idea he was married.”
“I know.”
“Even before we left, things were going south again . . . there were so many signs. God, you must think I’m such an idiot.”
He looked briefly to his right and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Just for a moment. “No, not that.”
They continued listening to the music until they reached her place, but he didn’t turn off the engine, and she didn’t motion to get out. The truck idled in front of her apartment before he pulled up in front of a hydrant and put his hazard lights on.
“Cierra, I lied to you.”
“About what?” she asked cautiously. She wasn’t particularly in the mood for any more big reveals.
“Do you want to know why I did what I did?”
“Yes.”
“Because I was jealous. I think you deserve to be treated like the ambitious, funny, talented, gorgeous woman that you are. And for the past few months, I’ve had to sit back and watch this .
. . person . . . act like he has no clue who the fuck he’s had the privilege of being with.
But you were happy. Seemed happy, at least. And you’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions, and it’s not on me to try and persuade you one way or the other.
Because I respect you, I . . .” He shook his head.
“Erik . . .” Cierra began, her voice cracking.
She had been wrong. She had been so, so wrong.
All this time, she’d convinced herself she needed someone safe.
Someone who fit this image of the ideal man for her in her deluded mind.
How could she have been so blind? “That day we ran errands, riding around together, it changed things for me. I have feelings for you, and I think I have for a while now, but I was just so scared of repeating past mistakes.”
She looked to him for reassurance but couldn’t make it out. “I really like you, Erik. I think you feel the same way. Now that Julian is out of the picture and my contract is up with your Zelda and Elliot, I don’t know. Maybe we could give it a shot?”
“I never needed you to be ‘mine.’ I just wanted you in my life.” He dropped his eyes and tapped on the steering wheel. “But I don’t know if I can do that anymore.”
“What? What do you mean? I’m never talking to that man again, and I don’t work for your family anymore. We . . . we don’t have to pretend there’s nothing between us.”
“Cierra, I don’t want to be your second place. I’m not proud of the way I acted last night, and I need some time to process all of this. And I think you do, too.”
As much as she wanted to protest, she knew Erik was right.
“So, that’s it?”
He smiled sadly. “I’ll help you with your stuff.”