I almost smile. Almost.
You could hire an actual chef for that.
I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be an actual chef. Plus I want someone who won't judge me when I eat cereal for breakfast at 3pm because I forgot time exists.
The mental image of River Stone, former child actor and current way-too-attractive filmmaker, eating Lucky Charms in his boxer shorts at 3pm is... distracting. Why did I imagine himin his boxers, anyway? That’s ridiculous. I shove it away and type back to him.
This feels like charity.
It's a job. You cook, I pay you, we both benefit. How is that charity?
Because you don't need someone to cook for you. You need to set a phone alarm.
I need both. Look, I get it if you just don't want to do it. That's fine. But if you're saying no because you think I'm doing this out of pity or something, you're wrong.
I don’t believe him, but I ask anyway.
Then why are you doing this?
I'm legitimately concerned I'm going to pass out during editing and wake up three days later surrounded by empty coffee cups and protein bar wrappers.
I hold in a laugh. Another text from him comes in.
Also, your cooking is incredible. I remember those dumplings you made for the Barrett family dinner. I ate six.
I remember those dumplings too. The way River's eyes closed when he took the first bite, like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. The way he came back for seconds and thirds and then asked me for the recipe.
Seven. You ate Seven. I was counting.
See? You pay attention to details. That's exactly the kind of quality I need in a personal chef.
Despite myself, my lips twitch.
“Everything okay?” Kiki asks, and I realize I've been staring at my phone with a dumb expression on my face.
“Yeah, fine.” I lock the screen. “Just... job stuff.”
“River's job?” She grins knowingly, because of course she knows. Kiki knows everything, including things I haven't even figured out myself yet. “You should take it.”
“It's complicated.”
“Why? He wants to pay you to do something you're good at and need practice for. Seems pretty straightforward to me.”
“Because—” I stop myself. Becausewhat? Because I'm scared? Because I don't trust him? Because every time I let my guard down, I end up sleeping under a bridge?
“Because nothing,” Kiki says softly. “River's a good guy, Kiera.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know that sometimes taking a risk is the only way to move forward.”
I want to argue, but Tobias picks that moment to scoop Skyler up and declare it's time for her bath, and suddenly Kiki and I are alone.
“I found an apartment,” I blurt out.
Her eyebrows rise. “What?”
“Studio on Main Street. Above the bookstore.” I pull up the listing and show her. “I can afford the deposit if I take River's job.”
