Mag-log inKira’s POVElijah’s restaurant, solace was dark when the car pulled up outside.Not closed dark, just after hours dark, the kind where the lights were off in the front of house but the kitchen strip was still on and throwing a warm line under the door, and Kira sat in the Cullinan for a moment and looked at it.She knew what this was.She’d known from the moment Elijah texted on Tuesday and said are you free Saturday evening, just the two of us, and she’d said yes because she always said yes to him and because she’d spent two days telling herself she didn’t know what it meant and had known the entire time.She got out of the car.Elijah opened the door before she reached it, which meant he’d been watching for her, and he stepped back and she walked in and stopped.One table in the middle of the empty restaurant, dressed properly, white cloth and candles and two settings and a single small arrangement of something green and simple in the center that didn’t try too hard. The rest of Sol
Kira’s POVThe autumn menu revision was spread across her desk, twelve pages of handwritten notes and crossed out items and margins full of questions she hadn’t answered yet, and Kira was sitting in her office at the back of the restaurant on a Thursday morning with a red pen and a cold coffee when her phone buzzed.Alyssa.A screenshot. No caption.Kira picked up her phone and looked at it.The post was long, the kind of long that meant someone had been composing it for a while and had finally decided to send it, and it was public, on an account with a real name and a real photograph and enough followers that the screenshot had already been shared forty times before Alyssa sent it to her.The man’s name was Thomas Acheampong. Twenty-eight years old, property developer, based between London and New York, and he had written in careful detail about a relationship he’d been in for two years with a woman he named, with a woman whose son he named, with a woman who had apparently told him t
Elijah’s POVKira ate like she hadn’t realized she was hungry until the container was open in her lap, which knowing her meant she’d been running since six in the morning and had skipped breakfast entirely because there was always something more pressing.Elijah ate beside her and didn’t mention it.The Cullinan was warm and the street outside was doing its Saturday afternoon thing and they sat in the passenger and driver seats with their containers and the paper bag between them on the console and didn’t talk for a few minutes.“The Copenhagen restaurant,” Elijah said. “Have you been to Lille?”“Which one.”“Vesterbrogade. Small place, maybe twenty covers, no printed menu, whatever the kitchen decides that day.”“I haven’t been.”“I went in October for a conference and went back three times in four days.”Kira looked at him. “Three times.”“There was a dish on the second night. Turbot, brown butter, preserved lemon, and something underneath it I still haven’t identified.” He looked a
Kira’s POVThe note came with the booking confirmation in a plain envelope, Adrian’s handwriting on the front, and inside just four lines.I heard you never got to finish this module. I thought you should. No occasion, no strings. The details are attached.Kira read it twice and put it on her kitchen counter and looked at it for the rest of the evening.The details said Hana Mori, Tribeca, Saturday nine to one, Japanese knife technique, private session. She looked up Hana Mori and read three paragraphs about twelve years training in Osaka and a waiting list that ran six months and a teaching philosophy described by one former student as the most demanding four hours of my culinary life and the most useful.She put the confirmation in her bag and didn’t tell anyone.Saturday morning she drove to Tribeca and parked the Cullinan and stood outside the studio door for thirty seconds and rang the bell.Hana Mori opened it before the ring finished.“You’re three minutes early,” she said. “Go
Adrian’s POVHis phone rang at eight fifteen.He was in his office with his coffee and the Singapore quarterly he still hadn’t finished and the particular quiet of a Saturday morning in Westbrook house when the twins were at Elena’s and the whole building had nothing in it but him.He picked up.“Kira.”“Are you busy?”“No. What’s wrong?”She told him what she heard from the call Catherine had been on.He sat back in his chair and listened and didn’t say anything, not because he had nothing to say but because she needed to get through it first and interrupting her was not something he was going to do. She told him about the hallway and Catherine at the window and the phone and the voice and the name, Thomas, and the weekend plans and the me too at the end that landed the way those two words always landed when they were said to someone you weren’t supposed to be saying them to.When she finished the line was quiet for a moment.“Adrian,” she said.“I heard you.”“I’m not telling you th
Kira’s POVCatherine kissed both her cheeks.“Happy birthday darling. You look wonderful.”“Thank you,” Kira said.Elena appeared from nowhere and took Catherine’s arm and introduced her to the couple nearest the door and Catherine laughed at something the husband said and the room absorbed her the way it absorbed everyone Elena brought into it, smoothly and without resistance.Kira turned back to her table.“She came,” Alyssa said.“I can see that.”“Did you know?”“No.” Kira picked up her wine. “Did you?”“Elena called me this afternoon and asked me not to mention it.” Alyssa picked up her own glass. “I’m mentioning it.”“I appreciate that.”Marcus appeared on her other side with a plate he’d clearly just taken from a passing tray. “Catherine’s here,” he said.“I noticed Marcus.”“Are you alright?”“Both of you stop asking me that.” Kira looked at them. Catherine settled three seats down on the opposite side of the table between Elena’s friend Patricia and a man from Richard’s fir
VANESSA POVVanessa sat on Jenna’s couch, she crossed her leg, smiling like she’d just won the lottery. Literally she just did.“Thank you,” she said. “Seriously, Jenna. Thank you for this genius idea. If not for you, I’d still be here sobbing into a pillow. Now look at me. Abou
KIRA POVTwenty four hours.It had been twenty four hours since that text from the unknown number came through, and Kira still couldn’t shake it.*Leave Elijah alone. He’s someone else’s man.*She’d read it at least fifty times. Trying to figure out who se
VANESSA POVVanessa sat on Jenna’s couch, staring at her phone.It had been more than seven hours since she sent those texts to Adrian.Seven hours.And nothing.The messages showed seen. Which meant Adrian had read them and also opened he photos.
VANESSA POVBy the time they were done at the restaurant, Adrian was way drunk.Not just tipsy nor a little buzzed, he was gone.Drunk to stupor.He could barely stand. His words were slurred as his eyes kept closing and opening like he was fighting to stay awa







