“So . . . how do you feel?” Mia asked, looking like her excitement might burst out of her petite ears. “Can you believe it?!”
“It’s amazing.” Cierra smiled incredulously, still in disbelief at how her account was taking off. “But really, Mia.” Cierra placed her hand on her friend’s arm. “I feel like I haven’t done enough to thank you for all the work you’ve put in. This wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for you.” Mia self-consciously grinned at Cierra’s words; this kind of praise was unfamiliar to her. “You’ve really got an eye for this.”
Mia’s sapphire eyes blinked, her gaze shying away from Cierra’s. “Wow, Cee. Um . . .”
Cierra knew by Mia’s lack of words that her own had landed how she wanted them to. From living at Mia’s place, to the random dinner party, or even tagging along for backup at Amber’s birthday, Mia had been the island oasis while Cierra was lost at sea.
To those following her on social media, Mia’s life appeared as one blurry carousel of nights out, fashion sample sales, and rooftop parties at hotels regular people only read about. Which, in part, it was. But all that was a two-part facade and distraction, and Cierra was one of the few people who understood what lay beneath: a talented woman who would do anything to help her friend.
Being friends with Mia came with difficulties, mainly those of the envy-inducing variety. And her aloofness to the general state of the world could be maddening. People would ask what made them become friends, this odd couple, and Cierra would respondI don’t know, we just click. But right now, as they sat across from each other, a thesis formed: both women saw something in theother, a potential or some trait hidden in plain sight to the rest of the world.
The server arrived with a fresh pair of cocktails, and the two friends clinked their glasses together; the ring of the crystal faded into the chatty background noise of golden hour.
Cierra straightened her shoulders. “This brings me to my next point. I think it’s time we made this partnership official.”
“Cierra, I told you, I don’t want to get paid—”
“Listen, I understand why you won’t take a salary, but at least let me give you a more official title? I was thinkingsocial media directorcould be a great job for you. Who knows, maybe this could be a jumping-off point for a new career. Please, let me do something.”
Contemplatively, Mia looked downward, her tongue making an indent in her cheek with her lips pulled tight. She winced. “Would it be weird? Like, would I work for you?”
“No, no. It wouldn’t change anything we’ve already been doing. You’d be like a consultant.”
“Ah,” Mia said, as if she understood the implications. A sheepish look of glee appeared on her face, and the corners of her mouth turned upward in agreement. “Well then . . . fine. Let’s do it.” She stuck out her hand.
“It’s the least I can do.”
Moments later, the server came by with a neat tray of assorted small plates. One was crusty sourdough bread covered in burrata cheese, grilled peaches and topped with mint. Biting into it was like a refreshing, creamy burst of stone fruits and honey. The two relished the dish, along with some fries and mayo, before speaking again — both had been much hungrier than they thought.
After they’d both had their fill, Mia asked, “So, whatever happened with Julian? Feel like I haven’t heard about him in awhile.”
“I don’t know, I’m not sure how he feels about me. He slept over and it was . . . magical.”
“Oh?” Mia asked suggestively, slowly licking around the rim of her wineglass. The man to Mia’s left at another table became transfixed, to the dismay of the date across from him.
“Mia!” Cierra whispered, but was laughing too hard to seem stern. “But the next morning, you know, we’re getting dressed and I broach the topic of—”
“Being exclusive, mm-hm, continue.”
“Right. And he said that he really liked me, wanted to keep seeing each other but—”
“Oh no.”
“He said that he wasn’t looking for anything more. But I get that, I mean, we’re both just out of long-term relationships, so it’s fine. A good thing, actually.”
“Mm. But you’re still seeing other people too, right?” Mia asked as if the only acceptable answer was,of course.
“Uh, well, not necessarily.”
“Cierra, c’mon. Please don’t tell me he’s the only guy you’ve seen this summer.”
Caught, Cierra took another bite of the rich, peachy appetizer.
“Listen, I just don’t want you getting too attached.”
“I’m not!”
Mia twisted her face. “Whatever you say.”
