She must sense my attention because her head turns, and our eyes meet. For half a second, something flickers in her expression before she looks away quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Right. Still keeping me at arm’s length.
I weave through clusters of guests, catching fragments of conversation and the smell of charcoal from the grill. Noah and Savannah have moved to stand by themselves near the garden beds bursting with early roses. Noah’s hand rests on the small of Savannah’s back with easy familiarity, and they’re having one of those intense, quiet conversations—thekind where you can tell important things are being said even if you can’t hear the words.
Savannah keeps looking down at her engagement ring, and I know she’s looking forward to their wedding in a few months. It was so sweet how Noah proposed. It was so moving even I got choked up.
I push down the pang of longing and focus on Kiera, who’s now examining the contents of the appetizer table with intense concentration, like the arrangement of crackers and cheese is the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.
“Hey, Kiera. Congrats on graduating,” I say as I approach.
She turns to face me, her expression smoothing into polite friendliness. “Thanks. High school was basically a four-year exercise in not losing my mind, so graduating feels like a minor miracle.”
I laugh, holding out the wrapped present. “This is for you.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to.”
She unwraps it slowly. When the chef’s knife case comes into view, she goes still. Her fingers trace the leather before opening it to reveal the blade inside.
“River.” She sighs, and for a moment, the guarded walls drop. “This is… this is really nice. Too nice.”
“You’re going to need good tools if you’re serious about cooking.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “I figured you could use it.”
She looks up at me, something softening in her expression before she catches herself. The walls slide back into place. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”
“Can we cut the cake now?” Skyler comes barreling over. “Uncle Levi said we have to wait, but I’m hungry!”
Kiera laughs and ruffles Skyler’s hair. “Soon, Little Pup. Let me talk to River for a minute, okay?”
“Okay, but hurry!” Skyler races off.
“So, um, what have you been up to?” Kiera asks, still holding the knife box like a shield. “I feel like I haven’t seen you much lately.”
“Editing. So much editing. I’ve been basically living in my apartment, staring at footage until my eyes cross. I have three film festivals I want to submit to this fall, and I’m not sure I have enough good material.”
“That sounds stressful.”
“It is. And I keep forgetting to eat, which probably isn’t helping.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll be in the zone editing, and suddenly it’s nine at night and I realize I haven’t had anything except coffee all day.”
“Right, because nothing says ‘successful filmmaker’ like passing out from malnutrition.” She crosses her arms, concern flickering behind the snark. “Very romantic vision of the starving artist.”
I try to redirect. “What are your plans now that you’ve graduated? Are you going to school?”
Her expression shifts, and she’s suddenly more guarded. She looks down at the knife. “I’m just working at the bakery. Part-time.”
“But?”
She glances around like she’s checking if anyone’s listening. “But there’s this culinary school on the mainland. They’re hosting a cooking competition in July. The winner gets a full scholarship.”
“That’s incredible. Are you going to enter?”
“I want to.” She says it quietly, like admitting wanting something is dangerous. “But the competition entry fee is two hundred and fifty dollars, plus ingredients… I’m trying to save up, but Levi doesn’t need a full-time employee.”
An idea sparks. “What if I hired you?”
“Hired me?” Suspicion creeps into her expression.
