Those two words carry more weight than I want them to. Like she’s figured out something I’m not ready for her to know.
“Well,” she says, her tone light but her eyes sharp, “I suppose as long as you’re getting proper meals, it doesn’t matter who’s preparing them. Though I do hope you’re not paying her too much. These island types tend to take advantage of wealthy transplants from the city.”
The implication is clear. Kiera is using me. Taking advantage of my money and my kindness.
It takes everything I have not to defend her more forcefully. To tell Mother exactly what Kiera means to me, how she’s the best part of my day, how being around her makes me happier than I’ve been in years.
But I can’t. Because Mother will use that information like a weapon. She’ll find ways to make Kiera’s life difficult, to drive a wedge between us, to prove that I’m making another poor life choice.
So I just say, “She’s worth every penny I pay her.”
And I turn and walk back to the kitchen before Mother can respond.
Kiera is already working, her hands moving with confident precision as she prepares the chicken. She glances up when I enter, and concern flickers across her face.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I lean against the counter, watching her work. “Everything’s fine.”
Except, it’s not fine. Not even close.
CHAPTER 18
KieraEmmerson
Monday, June 7
The gochujang chickenglistens under the kitchen lights, the glaze a perfect balance of sweet, spicy, and savory. I’ve outdone myself, and I know it. The sticky rice is formed into neat mounds, and the pickled vegetables add these bright pops of color—radish, cucumber, and carrot, all quick-pickled with rice vinegar and a touch of sugar.
I plate three servings with careful precision, arranging everything like I’ve seen in those cooking competition shows. The chicken gets sliced to show the juicy interior, fanned out across one side of the plate. The rice sits in the center, molded into a perfect dome. The pickled vegetables cascade artfully beside it, and I finish each plate with a sprinkle of sesame seeds and thinly sliced green onions.
It looks good if I do say so myself. Professional. Like something that could win a competition.
Take that, Victoria Stone.
I carry the plates to the formal dining room, setting them at the three place settings I arranged earlier. The table looks elegant—white plates against the dark wood, water glasses filled, napkins folded properly. I even put out chopsticks alongside the regular silverware, though I doubt Victoria will use them.
I step back and survey my work. This is good. This is really good. And if Victoria can’t appreciate the effort and skill that went into this meal, that’s her problem, not mine.
I wipe my hands on a dish towel and head toward the living room, my heart beating just a little faster than normal. I can hear Victoria’s voice carrying from the other room, that precise, cultured tone that probably came from years of private schools and etiquette classes.
“...and honestly, River, I simply don’t understand why you’re wasting your time on this island. You have connections in Los Angeles. This documentary nonsense is all well and good as a hobby, but?—”
I clear my throat from the doorway.
Both of them turn to look at me. River’s expression is tight, his jaw clenched in a way I’m starting to recognize as his “dealing with my mother” face. Victoria looks at me like I’m an interruption she didn’t anticipate, her perfectly shaped eyebrows raising slightly.
“Dinner is ready,” I say, keeping my voice professional and even.
“Wonderful.” River stands immediately, relief flickering across his features. “I’m starving.”
Victoria rises more slowly, smoothing down her cream-colored suit jacket. “I suppose we should see what your so-called cook has prepared.”
“Mother,” River warns.
I clench my jaw. I can see why River didn’t want his mother coming to visit. I lead them to the dining room and gesture to the table. “Please, sit.”
River takes his usual seat, and Victoria settles into the chair across from him. I move toward my place at the table—the one I’ve been using all week when River and I eat together.
