The Many Problems of Luka Erebi | Sapphic Romance | Chapter 7
Wren can’t deny
When she got the job at The Cusp, Wren conceded to seeing Luka again. Initially, she had no intention of finding her. Now, she didn’t even need to. Luka had just marched back into her life like it was nothing.
She even asked her to walk her to Lotus Academy. It was such a ridiculously mundane task that she wanted to say no. Yet there was something in Luka’s eyes that stopped her. She didn’t know why, but something in her guts told her she would regret it if she rejected her now.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Just as she spun on her heels and ready to walk downstairs, Wren heard Asher clawing at the door. He had gone from vocally complaining to scratching Bellamy’s door.
“Asher, stop.”
“Meeeoow!!”
When he wasn’t being the helpful cat that he was supposed to be, he was just annoyingly clingy.
“Ugh… hold on.”
Wren unlocked the door and stepped inside to find Asher’s harness and leash. Asher practically squeezed himself into the harness when she held it out. Then she walked out with a black cat whipping his tail back and forth.
“Hi, Asher,” Luka said.
He meowed back at her. He then pulled on the leash, telling Wren he wanted to go. So they began walking.
She’d expected Luka to say something during, but she was silent. This was the second time Luka had made her slow down and walk. Wren could’ve easily made three loops around this town on her motorcycle. Since Wren didn’t want to be caught looking at her, she chose to take in the scenery.
Locust Town changed a lot in the past ten years. The stores that she remembered were no longer here. Her old primary school was gone. More trees were planted around the town, acting almost like an extension of Asacia Park.
She and Luka used to live toward the north of the town, while now they were at the center in the proximity of Lotus Academy. At least… as centered as they could be, given how much of the western land Asacia Park consumed. If it wasn’t for the Park, Locust Town could’ve been big enough to be considered a city.
There weren’t a lot of people on the street at first, but the density began to show once they were near the Academy. Wren grabbed the sunglasses hanging on the collar of her shirt and put them on. She wasn’t sure who attended this school, but she wasn’t planning on being careless in case there were Natives here.
Luka stared, but Wren ignored her.
“Um. Thanks for walking me,” Luka said as they got to the entrance. “A-anyway, I gotta go. I’m late for class.”
She turned, and began running like her life depended on it. Wren raised a brow, wondering why she didn’t mention that she was late. Asher cried out, tugging on his leash. She picked him up, wrestling with him as he tried to squirm out of her grip.
“Asher. Stop it.”
Ding!
Her phone vibrated. She pulled down the zipper in her jacket pocket, and took it out. While she did this, Asher escaped her clutch, though he was still tied to her via the leash.
Bell.A: What did Luka want?
Wren: She wanted me to walk with her to school…
Bell.A: Oh.
Asher had stopped pulling on the leash and instead used Wren as a climbing pole. He stared at the phone like he knew how to read. Wren readjusted him on her shoulder, so that he wouldn’t slip and shred her jacket in a panic.
Bell.A: Can you walk Luka home? I’d appreciate it!
Wren: …
Wren: No.
Bell.A: :((((((
Bell.A: [sticker of a puppy with teary eyes begging with a text that says PLEASE]
Wren groaned, her throat rumbling.
Wren: What am I? Her babysitter? No.
Wren: Besides, I have work in an hour. I’m not gonna be home until eight.
She turned off her screen and shoved it back into her jacket. It was time for her to walk back home and get ready for work.
———
Beau Danaus sat on the patio seating, the same one as Luka from yesterday. The Cusp wasn’t busy, so Wren presumed she was just taking advantage of being the boss and having herself a cup of tea. Beau sat with an elegance, legs crossed, that could only stem from a wealthy upbringing. It was the one moment so far that Wren could see her coming from the House of Danaus.
“Ah, Wren, you’re here,” Beau said, her eyes locking with hers.
Apparently, she wasn’t just having tea. She’d been waiting for her.
“Seems like someone owes me money,” she mused.
Wren frowned. Who owed her money?
The woman seemed to read her, and explained, “I made a bet with Imon that you’ll show up today. Even after that rather grueling session he made you do.”
Ah, yes. Yesterday’s “grueling work.” The head cook gave her the task of two people and criticized her throughout. Then the cooks who were supposed to do the task took a break in the corner of the kitchen.
From the way Imon’s eyes blazed through her, she thought he would’ve brought her to the back and beat her, but if this was supposed to be grueling and disparaging, then Wren must’ve had it easy. Her professors at Culinary Institute of Insecta, and even her mother, were more unreasonable and demanding than Imon could ever be.
These Natives were soft. She wasn’t going to tell them, though. No need to rile them up.
“It’s just the first day,” Wren said.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Beau replied. “Anyway, you better hurry inside. We’ve got a big party coming in two hours. They reserved the whole place.”
Wren would’ve asked, but she learned that asking only got her reprimanded. She would find out in two hours anyway. So she gave Beau a nod and walked inside.
A small walk-in closet sat beside the kitchen door, a time-tracking tablet mounted on the wall beside it. Inside, hooks held jackets under a single hanging bulb. There was a free hook for Wren. She had worn her chef coat underneath, and since Beau said the piercings were fine, she left them in.
The kitchen was narrow enough that passing someone would require you to turn sideways. It was probably the smallest kitchen she’d worked in yet. A long prep counter ran along the left wall. Opposite it was a flat-top griddle, two burners, and a single oven. The extractor fan ran loud enough that everyone always sounded a little angrier than they were. Bright strips overhead, leaving no shadows hidden.
Imon didn’t look too pleased seeing her in the kitchen, but he greeted her all the same. She returned the gesture and turned to look at the schedule pinned on the cork board. They had her on prep duty, so it was just going to be a lot of cutting and stock and sauce making.
Although Wren learned a lot at the Culinary Institute, what she specialized in was Indian-Asian cuisine. An entirely different spectrum from The Cusp, which was French-Italian. She got a lot of advice in the form of criticism from Imon yesterday about her cutting technique and how she made the stock and sauces too bold.
The recipes for the stock and sauces were taped onto the wall. She noticed new pieces of laminated paper were attached. It was the different cutting techniques shown in step-by-step pictures.
“Heh…” She let out a small chuckle.
These Natives really were soft.
“Alright, let’s get it moving! We’ve gotta get ready for the party at one!” Imon shouted, jolting the other cook into a hurried frenzy.
He kept a close eye on Wren. She followed the instructions of the cutting technique and sped up once she began getting used to it. He didn’t say anything then, not even when she was making the chicken stock. But once it came to the sauces like Béchamel and Velouté, he was hovering over her like a hawk. She made sure to follow the recipe to the T instead of feeling it by taste, because apparently… her taste was too bold for these people.
The hours passed by, and soon the party arrived.
Wren glanced out the kitchen window, seeing all the customers in business or business casual suits, and assumed this was a company party. They didn’t look like anyone too special to her, so she paid them no mind.
She wasn’t on serving duty. The only thing she needed to do was to support the head cook.
Although, from the way she saw Beau talking to one of the men, she assumed she knew who he was or maybe she was trying to curry favors. The House of Danaus was known to have a vast number of connections.
After the busy party, the rest of the evening was quiet. Enough for the other cook, whose name Wren hadn’t gotten yet, to start a conversation.
“Say, señorita, you got some huevos to be working here. I mean, at least that’s what I hear.”
He leaned against the reach-in refrigerator toward the door, while Wren studied the recipes. She wasn’t sure of the exact translation, but she understood his meaning.
“I wasn’t planning on coming here.”
“Well, either way, I’m glad to get another morena. Too many gringos around here.”
Imon cleared his throat, a notification that he was still here. He was in the back washing the dishes, something Wren wasn’t expecting the head cook to do.
“Hey! Luka works here too, you know,” Beau said, poking her head in the kitchen window.
“You know what I mean, jefa. I was so sad when that kid quit.”
“Don’t remind me about that,” Beau groaned. “He has the gall to quit because that witch whispered sweet nothings, then he comes back a month later begging for his job. Like I would let someone who’s so easily poached to come back.”
The cook snorted. “Oh, man! I remember that. Pobre cabrón.”
Even during a quiet period for the cafe, the kitchen was still lively. It made it hard for Wren to study the recipes. It wasn’t like she wanted to listen in. Though her ears perked at what was said next.
“Lu! Back again, are you?”
“Hi, Ms. Danaus.”
Finally, she peeled her eyes off of the recipes and saw Luka’s head poking through the kitchen window. She seemed to notice Wren’s stare, and waved at her. Wren didn’t wave back.
Was Luka here to check up on her? She didn’t like that one bit.
She watched Luka grab a drink before heading over to the patio, and from now to closing time, Luka had her table littered with school work. Wren was lucky there wasn’t another big party coming, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from observing Luka.
Couldn’t she have done that at home? Why was she doing it here?
Only after Wren clocked out did she have an idea why Luka was here.
“Hey, Wren,” Luka said, hurriedly packing away her things. “Do you want to walk home together?”
“No. I came here with my motorcycle.”
“Oh. Uh.” She slipped on her backpack and stepped off the patio. “Can you drive me home?”
Wren frowned. “You could’ve gone home already. Why are you waiting for me?”
Luka’s grip tightened around her backpack. “I… I just wanted to be outside. Y-you know, get a different scenery. Since I’m always inside my apartment.”
That didn’t answer Wren’s question, but she thought back on this morning. How she could detect a tinge of concern in Bellamy’s voice, even though she played it up as a casual request. How her gut told her not to reject Luka’s mundane task. Even the fact that Bellamy had also asked her to walk Luka home.
She scratched her head, easing the simmering frustration, and grumbled. Then she made her decision. She just hoped she still had a spare helmet.
“You’re annoying, you know that? Come on.”