6. Enrique
Chapter 6
Enrique
W hat the fuck?
My proposal was going very well and Emily was completely wrapped up in what I was saying until I looked up and saw my boss. Yasmeena is the last person I wanted to recognize during such a romantic moment but I did.
I’m pissed at her and myself. I’m mad at her for going for a sexier look that night, and I’m mad at myself for noticing at the wrong moment. Emily is effortlessly beautiful so I’m not comparing them, but seeing Yasmeena in a barely there, short, black dress with her hair flowing is a big departure from the norm that caught me off guard.
If the restaurant didn’t open the bottle in front of me, I would have been sure that she got dressed up for my death. Let me be clear, I don’t think she hates me; I think she doesn’t give a shit if anyone around her lives or dies. I’d wager that she’d watch me die for fun if I didn’t play such a pivotal role at her company.
It took a lot of explaining, apologizing, and promises of gifts to get Emily to relax but I was able to achieve harmony by the time we made it home. The two of us were riding off a champagne high after finishing the bottle; our clothes didn’t make it much past the front door as we clawed at each other in the foyer.
I planned to make love to my woman and forget I’d seen Yasmeena or said her name. Yet, in the mist of my passion, her fucking image popped into my head just as I was about to cum. What’s worse is that the image didn’t stop me from cuming.
My only grace is that I was fucking Emily from behind so she didn’t see my confused expression. Still, that resentment lingered the entire weekend and all the way through Monday. Yasmeena didn’t fill my day with meetings as she usually does so I haven’t seen her all morning. This somehow sours my mood because not seeing her means that I haven’t had the chance to glare at her properly.
If I didn’t have to drop her name to get into Halo, I would have demanded to know if she followed me. The words on my computer are in a jumble since I haven’t read a thing in the last hour. I feel a stress headache forming. Closing my eyes, I squeeze the bridge of my nose and attempt to think more rationally.
My botched proposal was accepted and Emily is planning our wedding. I won but a sick feeling I can’t seem to shake lingers deep inside of me. My sigh sounds loud in my otherwise quiet office. My assistant is out on work duties so he’s not here to question the weariness of the sound.
My office has huge windows for me to look out into the city but the rest of the walls are normal. I do, however, have a glass door. It’s the only glass I want since I don’t want people staring at me while I work. I’m not into the complete glass office thing. I’m not a micromanager, I don't need to watch my team that badly. Yasmeena and I have a lunch meeting so I’ll be able to get my irritation with her out of my system.
After locking my computer, I stand and shrug into my blazer. Yasmeena appears on the other side of the glass door as I’m buttoning my blazer. I’m surprised to see her hair down in the loose waves she wore Friday night. Her soft pink skirt suit makes her brown skin glow more than usual. It’s something I’m noticing, not admiring. The skirt is a little shorter and tighter than I expected. With her heels, her stockinged legs look longer than usual.
What is she up to?
Not once has she looked up because she’s smirking as she texts on her phone. Until Friday, I didn’t know her face could do that. Her smile deepens once it rings.
“Hello?” she answers with a smile bigger than any I’ve ever seen. Part of me wonders who is able to make her smile like a normal person. Was it that guy she was with at the restaurant? Her laughter floats into my office, causing my frown to deepen. The person on the other end of the phone makes her seem…different. Almost human.
“I miss you, too,” she interjects before she continues to listen to whatever is being said. She raises her arm and looks at the diamond watch on her dainty wrist. “Now?” We make eye contact as I open my door. Her blazer appears to be the only thing covering her upper body. “I had a meeting but I just moved it to 2PM.”
I. Want. To. Choke. Her.
Yasmeena walks off and continues her conversation like she didn’t just disregard me like I’m not a person. She thinks that just saying it out loud knowing I was in earshot is good enough for me. It’s not but I cannot exactly run after her to argue about it.
I’m stuck again by one of her reschedules. She didn’t give me the courtesy of checking with me before she made such a statement. Now, I have to go to the restaurant alone since she doesn’t care about the reservation. I also have to move my actual 2PM meeting up or push it back. It’s bullshit. My assistant and I are both tired of her shit.
Pivoting, I turn and head to her office. If I have to be inconvenienced, I’m treating her assistant to lunch and we’re going to have a big meal on Yasmeena’s dime.
I hope her heel breaks and makes her fall in her too little skirt.
I pride myself on my punctuality but I want her to feel some of what I feel. It’s not nice when people fuck with your time. At least I tried, I purposely showed up to our 2PM meeting at 2:05 but I cannot tell if she noticed. That’s usually the problem with Yasmeena, she’s a hard read.
At least she was until some guy called her before lunch. Too many times, my mind went back to wondering who she’s with and what they were doing. I don’t know what is causing these questions but I’m perplexed.
Yasmeena shuffles her papers and looks up as if she’s just now realizing that I’m seated across from her.
“Okay, now that everyone is here, let’s get this meeting started and after, there’s another, no assistants needed. Thank you.”
Our assistants give each other a surprised look because there’s never a meeting without them.
“Okay…what is this meeting about, Yasmeena?”
“The relaunching of the Spa in the new location. Did you forget?”
I’ve never considered shaking the hell out of a woman until I met Yasmeena. It’s like she exists to test my patience.
“No, but you booked this meeting without a title and don’t we have a department for that?”
“You’re the CFO and this is a budgeting meeting. Matthew, were you at your desk when I called to tell you what this meeting was about?”
“Yes, you did,” he mumbles.
“And you could have informed Mr Souza about the title,” she pronounces every t in title as she talks. “Couldn’t you?”
“Yes,” he confirms while looking everywhere but at her.
“Okay, could you kindly inform Mr Souza that this meeting is for the Spa’s budgeting and HE needs to be here as well.”
She and I are caught in a stare down for what feels like an eternity and I’m sure both of our assistants are uncomfortable. Jeeves, my assistant shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Very well, get on with it.”
“Yes,” Yasmeena smirks. “Let’s, Matthew.”
“So, we need your input and approval or disapproval for the budgeting of this weekend’s Spa re-launch. Here are all the details here, I have highlighted the difference in pricing, any changes of vendors, what it would cost us and what cost us initially. Now, we might need a bigger budget for the influencers that will be there and rooms. We had about 10 rooms for weekend stay but seeing how booked the Spa has become over the course of the announcement and now, we might need more rooms and more influencers, here you go, Enrique and a copy for you, Yasmeena.”
I accept the copy of the paperwork and take a quick glance at the numbers. “And these influencers will be worth the investment?”
“If you look at the numbers, the answer is clear.” Yasmeena answers.
“No, the cost is here not what they’ll bring in and I’m talking to Matthew.”
“If you flip to the last page, everything is there including the benefits and losses, the cost and the worth of the investment. Matthew gets the reports from me which means it’s thoroughly written, precise numbers and graphs.”
“Then this could have been an email since you’ve already done the numbers.” I grab a pen and sign off on it and push it back to her. “So that’s it for this meeting?”
Yasmeena arches her brow. “Thank you, your input was valued.” she says with no emotion behind it. “Jeeves, Matthew, if you’ll excuse us.” They exit without another word.
Yasmeena moves the papers I just signed and pulls out a folder, sliding it to me. “Okay, I need you to marry me.”
Her words pull me out of my rage stare because clearly I heard her wrong. “What the fuck?” I start and shake my head. “What in the hell did you just say to me?”
“Right, so if you open up the folder, you will get your answer and I said, I need you to marry me.”
“I swear,Yasmeena, tell me to read one more damn thing and I’m leaving. In what world did you think it was a good idea to get married?”
“This world and it won’t be a real marriage. I said I needed you to marry me not that I wanted you to, you’re my number one prospect and I know you’d do what’s necessary when the time comes.” Yasmeena uncrosses her legs and crosses them again. “I’m sick and I need an heir. You would be logical and I know you would take care of this child once I’m gone. You wouldn’t be doing this for free. I’d provide everything. 50% of my inheritance goes to you, the other half will go to the baby once I’m gone. You will be the COO of the company and in my absence make all decisions until the baby is old enough to run it or if they want to. The only thing I ask of you is that you keep it to yourself. No one can know about me being sick, especially not my family. Plus, you only need to be with me until I get pregnant then we can quietly divorce and when I die, you’ll know what to do. Everyone will think it was my untimely death. Works for everyone.”
“Prospects? Like you have a list?”
“Yes, I had a list.”
I run my fingers through my hair because I’m on eight different levels of confusion. It’s like my words are stuck.
“Uh…” I’m stuck staring at her while my brain works to process everything she just said. “Heir?”
I was so busy focusing on my career that I never thought about if I’d want to have children. Now, I’d have to make a life long decision soon and with Yasmeena of all people. Her announcement gives me so many conflicting thoughts and emotions that my brain doesn’t know where to stick. Did she say she was dying?
“Yes, Heir.”
“I’m engaged.”
“Right, with that, unfortunately, you cannot tell your fiancée about me being sick. Just let her know that after me, you two will be getting married. I’ll even fund the entire thing up until the honeymoon and your two kids, after mine, of course.”
I’m still stunned and everything out of her mouth just stops me further. Who tells someone they're sick with the same tone of commenting about the weather? Even if I’d have questions, my brain can’t form them. I stare at her a moment longer, expecting her to laugh and tell me this is a joke but Yasmeena is just Yasmeena.
“So you’re asking me to go to my fiancée and say, ‘oops I meant to ask if you’d marry me after I marry and impregnate my boss? How would that sound?”
“Just tell her to wait and be patient. She’ll gloss over it like she did when you called her Yasmeena while proposing in front of a hushed restaurant. She didn’t get upset, she knows you. Plus, it’s for a good cause.”
Fuck. I freeze for a moment, I didn’t know she heard that. Yasmeena is the last person I’d want to witness such a colossal mistake. Even with the embarrassment that washes over me, one thing sticks out.
“A good cause?”
“Yes, I have ovarian cancer so, it’s kind of like the make– a–wish foundation.” Yasmeena stops talking, she flinches, shutting her eyes and makes a fist then a moment after she exhales. She opens her eyes and continues as if nothing happened. “I don’t need anything except a baby.”
Just when I thought she couldn’t surprise me any more. I stare at her still expecting…I don’t fucking know. This whole proposition is insane. Standing, I grab the folder and walk out of the conference room. What the fuck am I supposed to say to all of this? I head straight to my office to pack up for the day. It’ll be impossible to get any work done.
“I need you to sign the NDA now whether you accept this or not.” Yasmeena says right behind me as she shuts my office door.
Fuck, I just walked away from her and now she’s in my office. “Huh?”
“I need you to sign the NDA now whether you say yes or no.” she enunciates her words again as if I don’t understand.
I need a drink. No, I need an entire bottle. Will God smite me for cursing out a sick woman. I rub my face and turn back to the folder on my desk. There is more paperwork in the folder beyond the NDA. I don’t have the mental capacity to read any of it. I find the document and look over it to ensure I’m not being tricked into signing my life away then sign it. I don’t give it to her immediately because she can wait. I drop the folder in my laptop bag and grab the rest of my things. I take a deep breath before I turn around and face her again.
“I’m going home. Don’t contact me anymore today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hand her the paperwork because I know she won’t leave me alone without it. I stop just after I pass her and turn back to her. “Look, Yasmeena, I’m going to ignore the fact that you’ve been a major pain in my ass lately to focus on the biggest part of this whole damn thing. You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry that you’re sick. I hate the idea that you have to go through that and no matter what happens I pray for the best outcome possible and wish you the best.”
She gives me a blank look. “You don’t have to say sorry, you didn’t give me cancer. Also, when you’re done reading my diagnosis, shred the papers. Again, no one will know. See you tomorrow morning, Mr Souza.”
Yep, I have a stress headache now. I open my office door without another word to her and leave her in my office. I can’t begin to comprehend what makes Yasmeena tick and I can’t stress myself out trying to understand.
“I’m gone for the day,” I tell Jeeves as I pass. His hazel eyes search me like he’s trying to read my thoughts but I don’t bother to explain. “Move anything important to tomorrow.”