“So, what are you making?” Erik asked, making her jump when she heard his deep voice behind her. She hadn’t noticedhis laptop set up in the breakfast nook, with notebooks and a water ring, which figured. “I wish I had a bacon, egg, and cheese right now. This order is taking forever.”
With her back facing him, Cierra rolled her eyes and said a micro-prayer for patience. “I wasn’t quite planning on making that.”Because I wasn’t hired as your personal short-order-cook, Erik.“But I was gonna try out some wild berry oat bars.”
Erik put his hands up in mock defense. “Whoa, whoa. I forgot we had a Michelin chef in the building.”
“I thought I was just delivery.”
Cierra gave a wintry smile and turned back to her ingredients. Erik looked down, hopefully thinking about the way his words had come across in their brief interaction.
“All right, well, I’ll get out of your hair then. Which you have a ton of, by the way.”
“Yep.”
“Guess you knew that.”
Cierra gave a tight-lipped smile, and Erik collected his things, going down a set of stairs, and leaving Cierra to focus on her tasks. “Well, uh, let me know if you need anything,” he said on his way out.
“Sure thing.”
After several hours, the roast chicken was almost done, filling the entire home with its savory aromas. Erik had long since stepped out to visit one of his work sites, which Cierra was grateful for. While she was ready to deal with difficult personalities, she was already doubting how she would make it through an entire summer with his bumbling presence around. But luckily, he mostly only worked at the Lawson home for paperwork, so at least he’d be gone most of the time.
After pulling the roast out of the oven, she leaned against the countertop to check her phone while it cooled. Julian still hadn’tmessaged back, which was now beginning to bother her. His job seemed demanding, and it wouldn’t surprise her if he was someone who put his phone away at work, but it had been two days with zero response. No one was that busy, right? And he’d been the one to suggest going out again. She shook her head, frustrated, bothered that she cared this much.
Maybe Mia was right. Maybe she was a serial monogamist, incapable of having a good time, and addicted to over-analyzing any romantic situation. Regardless, she hated this feeling, like she was hanging by a thread, waiting for any morsel of attention.Maybe it’s still too soon, she wondered.
A loud slam jerked Cierra’s attention to the front of the house, where Erik was currently raking his fingers through his thick, dark hair. He was on the phone, and worry painted his entire face.
“Yes, I understand. Thanks for letting me know—” was all she heard before he quickly glanced at her, and then shuffled his way downstairs, out of listening range.
Cierra shrugged to herself before getting back to her own work. She spotted the time, noting Zelda would be home any minute. Since it was the first meal prep with the family, Cierra wanted to go over everything before leaving, just in case they had notes for future meals.
Ten minutes later, she heard the front door opening again. “Oh man, it smells good in here,” she heard Elliot say, who must have accompanied his wife.
Zelda walked in, thumping her large Birkin on the kitchen island and flinging her low heels haphazardly on the floor. “God, it’s nice to come home to a home-cooked meal,” she said with appreciation, looking over the meticulously prepped meal containers.
“Hungry now?” Cierra asked the couple. “I can fix some plates. It’s always best fresh.”
Elliot and Zelda exchanged excited glances before emphatically agreeing, perching themselves along the marble-slabbed kitchen island. Cierra quickly plated the fragrant rice pilaf, arranging freshly prepared tabbouleh atop chicken thighs, which were perfectly crispy on the outside. Quietly, the Lawsons ate with occasional grunts and satisfactory nods; professionally speaking, it was the most beautiful silence she could ask for.
Erik then emerged, looking downcast and obviously upset with whatever happened on the phone call from earlier. Feeling a pang of sympathy, Cierra asked, “Would you like a plate?”
“Yes, he does,” Elliot said, and then looked at his younger brother. “Trust me, it’ll blow your mind.”
Erik smiled weakly at Cierra, obviously trying to keep up a positive face, and took a seat. Like his brother and sister-in-law, he spent the next few bites in complete silence.
“Everything alright?” Zelda asked Erik, noticing the change in his usual jovial demeanor.
“Eh, yeah. It will be. Just a snag with work,” he said, forking at some of the green leafy tabbouleh.
“Like what?” Elliot said.
“You know that block party I’ve been talking about? For the Anderson James Complex we just finished?”
“Oh sure, you’ve been helping with that the past month,” Zelda answered.
“Yeah, well, our caterer just dropped out. The event is Friday, and we’ll have nearly two hundred attendees.”
“Can’t you just find someone else?” Elliot asked.
