CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
“More than a toothbrush.”
The following week disappeared in a blur of meetings, venue visits and supplier calls.
The Hamptons wedding was getting closer.
Bellamy & Co. seemed to survive almost entirely on coffee and determination.
By Thursday afternoon, Zara couldn't remember the last time she'd left the office before sunset.
"You look exhausted," Naomi said, dropping into the chair opposite her desk.
"I feel exhausted."
"You've earned it."
Zara leaned back and stretched her shoulders.
"I forgot what planning wedding season was like."
Naomi grinned.
"You say that as though you've been doing this for years."
"It feels like years."
Camille walked out of her office carrying a stack of folders.
"I heard that."
Zara laughed.
"I wasn't complaining."
"You'd better not be."
Camille handed them both a folder.
"Our clients in the Hamptons have requested an additional planning meeting tomorrow."
Naomi sighed dramatically.
"So much for my evening."
Camille smiled.
"I'll make it up to you."
"You said that last month."
"And I'm still saying it."
Just after six, Zara finally shut down her laptop.
As she stepped outside, she spotted Malik leaning against his Range Rover.
He wasn't looking at his phone.
He was watching the office entrance.
The moment he saw her, his expression softened.
"You waited."
"I finished early."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I don't believe you."
"I rearranged three meetings."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is if you're stubborn enough."
She laughed and walked over.
"What are we doing tonight?"
"I thought we'd cook."
"You?"
"I know."
"You've heard the rumours."
She smiled.
"I've heard from reliable sources."
"They're exaggerated."
"Winston told me you nearly set tea towels on fire."
Malik looked offended.
"That happened once."
"It happened twice."
He sighed.
"I knew I shouldn't have introduced you to my staff."
An hour later they stood in Malik's kitchen surrounded by vegetables, spices and an alarming amount of washing up.
Zara frowned at the recipe.
"This says two cloves of garlic."
Malik picked up half the bulb.
"I'll use six."
"Six?"
"Garlic is measured with your heart."
She laughed.
"I don't think that's how recipes work."
"It is in Caribbean households."
"You've made that up."
"I absolutely haven't."
They cooked side by side, bumping into one another in the small kitchen.
At one point Zara reached into the same cupboard as Malik.
Their hands brushed.
Neither moved immediately.
"You know," Malik said quietly.
"What?"
"I've started looking forward to Thursdays."
"Why Thursdays?"
"Because they're usually the first evening we're both free."
She smiled.
"I've noticed."
Dinner was slightly overcooked.
The rice was perfect.
The chicken was excellent.
The vegetables had been forgotten in the oven.
"I'll call it rustic," Zara said, trying not to laugh.
"I'll call it distracted."
"By what?"
He looked at her over the table.
"You."
Heat rose to her cheeks.
"That was smooth."
"It was honest."
After dinner they carried their mugs onto the balcony.
The skyline shimmered in the distance.
Traffic hummed below.
For a while they simply watched the city.
Eventually Malik spoke.
"I've been thinking."
She smiled.
"Should I be worried?"
"Probably."
He laughed softly.
"I've realised something."
"What?"
"You've got more things at my apartment than I do."
She frowned.
"What?"
He started counting on his fingers.
"Your favourite mug."
"My hoodie."
"A spare phone charger."
"Two books."
She interrupted him.
"My face wash."
"And your slippers."
She covered her face.
"I didn't even realise."
"You practically live here."
She looked around the apartment.
He wasn't wrong.
Her novel sat on the coffee table.
A blanket she'd brought over was folded neatly on the sofa.
Even her favourite herbal tea now lived in one of his kitchen cupboards.
"I hope you don't mind."
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Mind?"
"I like seeing little pieces of you here."
She smiled.
"So do I."
As they settled onto the sofa, Zara noticed Malik's phone light up on the kitchen counter.
He glanced at the screen before turning it face down.
She caught only one word.
Marcus.
"You not answering?"
"I'll call him back."
"It looked important."
"It's work."
He smiled reassuringly.
"It can wait."
She nodded.
But something about the brief tension in his expression stayed with her.
Later that evening, after Zara had fallen asleep with her head resting against his shoulder while they watched an old film, Malik's phone vibrated again.
Carefully, so he wouldn't wake her, he slipped out onto the balcony.
He answered quietly.
"Talk to me."
Marcus didn't waste time.
"We've identified the sedan."
Malik's expression hardened.
"And?"
"It belongs to a company linked to Devon."
"I figured."
"We've also had someone sitting outside Bellamy & Co. twice this week."
Malik looked back through the balcony doors.
Zara was still asleep on the sofa, curled beneath a blanket.
"They've approached her?"
"No."
"They've just been watching."
His stomach tightened.
"Double the surveillance."
"We already have."
"I don't care what it costs."
Marcus hesitated.
"She needs to know."
"Not yet."
"Boss—"
"Not yet."
He ended the call before Marcus could argue.
For a long moment he simply stood there, looking at the woman sleeping peacefully inside.
She looked safe.
Comfortable.
Happy.
He wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could.
Even if it meant carrying the fear alone.
The following morning, Zara woke before Malik.
She padded quietly into the kitchen wearing one of his oversized hoodies.
As she searched for coffee, she opened a cupboard.
Inside, sitting beside the tea bags and cereal boxes, was an empty shelf.
A small handwritten note rested there.
She picked it up.
For whenever you're ready.
– M
She smiled to herself.
He hadn't asked her to move in.
He hadn't pressured her.
He hadn't assumed.
He'd simply made space.
Not just in his kitchen.
In his life.
She folded the note carefully and slipped it into her purse.
Some things were too precious to leave lying around.
She had no idea that, before long, filling that empty shelf would become the easiest part of sharing a life with Malik.
The difficult part would be learning whether love alone could survive the secrets still waiting between them.