I cleared my throat. “‘Cinderella lived in a castle with her cruel stepmother and two ugly, mean stepsisters.’”
“Pretty sure we can’t say ‘ugly’ in this day and age,” Kai said quietly while the kids fought over who would get to turn the page.
“‘One day, an invitation arrived from the palace,’” I continued, trying for “light and airy” to balance out all the devoured children and unkind adjectives we’d already encountered. Zara draped one leg across mine. Dane relaxed into Kai’s side.
My phone chimed from the bedside table. I reached over and glanced at it.
Avery Michaels: What about a melon dessert? Do you do melon?
I turned the phone to vibrate. “‘All of the maidens of the kingdom were asked to join the prince for a royal ball,’” I said, reaching again for my phone when it vibrated another incoming text.
Avery Michaels: Margot wants to know what time you’re coming in tomorrow. And did you tell Vic your idea about filming family meal?
I cleared my throat and kept reading. “‘Surely, I may go as well! Cinderella cried, but her evil stepmother had other plans.’” I was feeling really good about my Cinderella voice, sweet but not saccharine, just a touch of victim, because, come on. The girl had it rough. Before I could continue, the phone vibrated again, and Zara snatched it from my hand.
“A-ve-ry,” she read. “Who’s that? He has texted you lots of times.” Her hazel eyes enlarged with the injustice of each interruption.
I plucked the phone from her hand and avoided eye contact with Kai. “Avery is my boss. He’s asking me some questions about work.”
A smidge of bitter bled into Kai’s tone. “Avery is a boss who doesn’t seem to know his employees can’t pitch tents at his restaurant. They do have lives.”
“He sounds like a mean and evil step-boss,” Zara said, very serious. “Maybe you should get another boss.”
“Avery is not mean and evil,” I snapped, instantly softening when I saw the hurt on Zara’s face. “He’s just doing his best,” I said more gently. “We are all trying to do good work, and that can take a lot of time.”
I saw Kai’s jaw tighten, but his eyes remained neutrally focused on Cinderella and her plight.
“Shall we keep reading?” I said brightly. I adopted a particularly cranky voice for the stepmother that had a giggle-inducing effect on the kids, and though my phone registered nine more texts from Avery by the time the ball was over and the slipper found, the kids and I quickly became proficient at ignoring it. So much so that I looked up, surprised, when Kai took Zara’s pink unicorn pillow and smooshed it down, none too lightly, right on top of the next vibration.
When the Buzz Lightyear and Rapunzel nightlights were emanating a cheery glow in the room and I had kissed both children’s cheeks six times each, Kai pulled shut their bedroom door with a quiet click. I wrapped my arms around him in the semidarkness. He held me close, and I let my head rest on his chest. Manda’s laugh floated up the stairs as Jack’s voice became animated with some story.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t let go of the texts and the irritation on Kai’s face.
“Listen,” I said, pulling away so I could see his eyes. “My work is really important to me,” I said, sounding more tentative than I’d have liked. I cleared my throat. “Sometimes I’m going to have to be in touch with Thrill even when I’m with you.”
Kai waited so long to answer, I wondered if I should repeat myself. Finally, he spoke. “I totally get it,” he said. I wondered if the brightness of his tone was authentic or a tad forced.
“You do?” I said, then backpedaled quickly. “Of course you do. You work in the same industry.”
Kai suppressed a smile. “Technically. I mean, we both serve food, but if this were a feudal system, for example, you would be a member of the nobility and I would be a peasant.”
“But a very good-looking one,” I said, moving in for a kiss. A shiver ran up my spine. “And one that smelled remarkably good for all the mucking of stalls and milking of cows that you did.”
“I think you’re mixing metaphors,” he said between kisses.
“Shh,” I said, “or I’ll have you imprisoned for treason to the queen.”
“You’re not doing this right,” he said, but within a few moments, I’m pretty sure he changed his mind.
13
TOVA’S nose—empty of the piercing she’d gotten on Monday, her most recent day off, and that I’d insisted she remove before we started work—hovered only inches above the mixing bowl. We’d finished the early morning prep and had the sublime gift of extra time before plunging into the next round of tasks, so I was taking the opportunity to teach her how to make a piecrust.