“Lavender-honey roasted chicken with roasted fingerling potatoes.” I place the last potato on the sheet. “And I’m making lavender salt for the potatoes. The buds are drying in the oven.”
River moves closer, peering at the baking sheet of drying lavender. “That’s genius. How did you come up with that?”
“Google,” I admit. “And a little bit of logic. The lavender needs to be subtle with potatoes or it’ll taste like you’re eating a potpourri sachet. The salt will give just enough flavor without overpowering everything.”
“You’re really good at this.” His voice is genuine. “The way you think about flavors and how they work together—that’s not something you can just Google. That’s talent.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but this time it’s not from embarrassment. “It’s just dinner.”
“No.” He picks up one of the raw lavender stems I set aside and twirls it between his fingers. “You took a potentially tricky ingredient and turned it into something that smells amazing. That’s exactly what you’ll need to do in the competition.”
I want to argue, to deflect the compliment with sarcasm, but my phone rings before I can. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and pull it from my pocket. Kiki’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder as I slide the potatoes into the oven. “What’s up?”
“Kiera, I need a huge favor.” Kiki’s voice is higher than normal, stressed. “I know this is last minute, and I know you’re busy setting up your apartment and everything, but?—”
“What’s wrong?”
“The ice cream shop.” She’s talking fast, words tumbling over each other. “The cardboard ice cream shop I’ve been designing for a client—they moved up the deadline. It needs to be done by Friday morning instead of next week, and I’m nowhere near finished. I have to work late tonight, like really late, and Tobias is still on his business trip, and?—”
“You need me to watch Skyler.” I glance at the clock on the oven. Almost seven.
“I’m so sorry. I know you’re busy, and I wouldn’t ask if I had any other option, but?—”
“Kiki, it’s fine. Of course I’ll watch her. When do you need me there?”
“That’s the thing.” She sounds even more frantic. “I’m really pressed for time. Could you possibly come here right now? Or maybe I could drop her off wherever you are? I packed her Barbies, so she’ll be entertained?—”
River straightens up beside me. “Is everything okay?”
I hold up a finger. “Kiki, let me call you back in one second.”
“Okay, but please hurry. I really need to?—”
“One second. I promise.” I hang up before she can spiral further into panic mode.
River is already moving toward me, concern written across his features. “What’s going on?”
“Kiki has a work emergency. She needs someone to watch Skyler tonight, and Tobias is out of town.” I run a hand through my hair, calculating. “I can leave now, but the chicken won’t be done for at least forty-five minutes, and?—”
“She can come here.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Kiki can drop her off here.” He says it like it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “You need to finish cooking, right? I can watch her. This house has plenty of space for a kid to play.”
“River, I can’t ask you to?—”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He pulls his own phone from his pocket. “Seriously, it’s not a problem. I like Skyler. And I worked all morning. I’m due for a break.”
I hesitate, my finger hovering over Kiki’s contact. This feels like crossing another line—bringing Skyler into River’s space, mixing my family with this carefully professional arrangement I’m trying to maintain.
But Kiki is stressed, and I’m already here, and the chicken really does need another forty-five minutes.
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly.
“Completely sure.” River pulls out his phone, probably getting ready to text his address to Kiki. “She can bring whatever toys she wants. We’ll make it work.”
