Page 20 of The Flavor of Us

“Oh, Ellie…” I murmur, my voice softer now. “You look like a momma bear guarding her cubs.”

Ellie laughs lightly, her voice still hoarse from exhaustion. “That’s exactly how it feels, Carlie. These little potatoes have me wrapped around their fingers already.”

I can’t stop the grin that pulls at my lips. “Aria’s already claimed you, huh? That little one is going to be glued to your hip for the rest of your life. Calling it now.”

Ellie tilts her head down slightly, her lips pressing against the top of Aria’s swaddled head. “Don’t remind me. Macon’s already joking about getting me one of those baby carrier backpacks for when she refuses to let me put her down.”

We both laugh at that and for a brief moment, it feels like the weight of the last few weeks lifts just a little. I tilt my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse beyond Ellie. “Where are the boys? Don’t tell me you’ve figured out how to phase out the crying.”

Ellie snorts softly. “I wish. No, Macon took them out to the living room. They were in rare form this morning, and Savin hasn’t been able to sleep much these last few days, so Macon’s trying to give him a break.”

My eyes flick to Savin, curled up so tightly against Ellie that he looks more like a shadow than a person. His face is pale, almost too pale, and the faint circles under his eyes look bruised.

Ellie must catch the shift in my expression because she adjusts the phone slightly, her voice quieter now. “He’s okay, Carlie. Really. He’s just… tired. He was there for every single second the last few weeks before the babies came. Every false contraction, every doctor’s appointment, every late-night craving. He didn’t let me out of his sight and now it’s catching up to him.”

I nod slowly, my throat tightening as I watch Savin’s chest rise and fall steadily. “He needs time to recover, Ellie. He’s got to let his body catch up.”

She gives me a tired smile, her fingers brushing through Savin’s soft hair as he stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. “That’s why Macon took time off work. He wants Savin to have the space to rest without worrying about me or the babies. And honestly, Carleen… we’re okay. I mean, I’m tired and overwhelmed, and sometimes I cry because I can’t find a clean burp cloth, but we’reokay.”

I let out a long breath, leaning against the counter as I watch her face. “You’ve got your hands full, Ellie, but you’ve never looked happier.”

Ellie’s face lights up and despite the exhaustion, despite the dark circles and the faint crack in her voice, she looksradiant. “I am happy, Carleen. Tired, yes. Stressed, absolutely. But happy.”

For a moment, we just look at each other—sisters across a screen, both carrying different weights on our shoulders but holding onto something solid and real. Then Ellie’s brows lift a faint smirk gracing her lips. “Alright, enough about me. What about you? You look…” She squints, her smirk widening. “You looksoft, Carleen. Suspiciously soft. What’s going on over there?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head as I rub the back of my neck. “It’s… good, Ellie. Better than good. It feels like we didn’t even stop, you know? Like we picked up right where we left off and I’m so mad at myself for ever pushing her away. For ever thinking I wouldn’t be enough for her.”

Ellie smiles softly, nodding. “You two always made sense, Carlie. Even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise.”

We say our goodbyes shortly after, Ellie shifting Aria as Savin sighs softly in his sleep. When the call ends, I stand there for a moment, my phone still in my hand, the weight of everything settling deep in my chest. Before I can put my phone down, an email notification pops up on the screen.

Culinova Corp Event Management – Inquiry

I blink, my brows furrowing as I tap the notification open.

“Dear Ms. Monroe,We are hosting a series of exclusive fall events for high-profile clients this upcoming season and would love to discuss catering partnerships with Eclectic Catering. Your work has come highly recommended, and webelieve your expertise would be a perfect match for our upcoming events. To ensure synergy, we’re inviting selected chefs to submit a one-week trial menu before final contracts are signed.”

Culinova.Holy shit.

They’re massive—luxury events, celebrity galas, exclusive yacht parties. This could changeeverythingfor my small ass company. And a trial week? That’s bold. And honestly? Kind of brilliant. It’s not just about making food—it’s about proving I can handlethem.Their clients, their vision, their expectations. And let’s be real—Culinova’s expectations are sky-high.

My phone buzzes in my hand, the name on the screen lighting up:Culinova – R. Alexander.

My eyebrows shoot up. They sure don’t waste any time. I swipe to answer, clearing my throat to put on my customer service voice. It’s been a few months since I’ve had a full catering job and while I don’t need the money, it would give me something to do. “This is Carleen Monroe.”

A deep, smooth voice comes through the line. Confident. Polished. AbsolutelyAlpha.

“Ms. Monroe, this is Robert Alexander, CEO of Culinova Events. Thank you for taking my call.”

“Mr. Alexander, the pleasure’s mine. I just received your email.”

“I assumed as much.” There’s a faint chuckle on the other end, but it’s brief. “I’m reaching out directly because we have… a situation.”

My brows knit together and I shift my weight, crossing one arm over my chest. “What kind of situation?” I try not to let the excitement or desperation show through my voice but emailingandcalling at six am means that it’s not just a situation. It’s more of an emergency.

“One of our previously confirmed chefs backed out. Personal reasons, they said, though I suspect it’s more about nerves. Our fall event isn’t just a party, Ms. Monroe—it’s anexperience.We can’t afford missteps.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I understand. And you need someone who can step in, last minute, and deliver without a hitch.”

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