18. CHAPTER 18
Zuri
“Stay true to yourself.” Hope’s advice rings in the back of my mind as a woman, the kind I see on a magazine cover, strides toward us, all long legs and exposed skin. Her calculated focus zeroes in on Jeremy, and my heart clenches.
I scarcely belong here in this elegant setting with its posh occupants. This feels more suited to a high-end TV drama than reality. But then, maybe that’s what I need to remind myself. None of this is my reality and this man beside me is nothing more than my fake fiancé.
The ease with which Jeremy’s hand slips away from mine doesn’t just sting—it releases an avalanche of doubts. Uncertainty crashes over me, challenging my every rehearsed response.
It’d help if I knew if he was shocked or surprised. Or both? But our connection wavers, and all I sense is the communication between him and this woman as he gawks. I catch snippets of Gavin and Hope’s conversation with a man they greet warmly as “Dad,” yet my focus remains tethered to Jeremy and the blonde with perfectly painted red lips.
“Jeremy dear, aren’t you going to introduce Sonya to your friend?” Sara’s voice puts an end to the silent exchange. “What’s her name again?”
Her feigned forgetfulness crafts a dismissal I cannot ignore. Her gaze flits between Sonya and me, then settles on Jeremy, clearly pleased with this reunion she’s orchestrated.
But this is why Jeremy brought me here. This is my role. Regardless of the undercurrents of discomfort, I reclaim his hand and my role. As Jeremy seems to shrink under the pressure of the situation, I suck in my tummy and stand taller. Despite my slightly elevated shoes, I still have to crane to peer up at Sonya. And somehow, I introduce myself with a veneer of confidence. “I’m Zuri. Jeremy’s fiancée.”
I mask a smile, and while it’s courtesy to shake hands, I suspect Sonya, like Sara, dislikes shaking strangers’ hands. That works out for me. I have no intention of being embarrassed should I get dismissed. I simply wave.
“Sonya,” she sings-songs her own introduction and shifts her gaze to Jeremy. Her stilettos put her almost to the same height as Jeremy. Her cocktail dress hits midthigh, far too revealing and fancy for a casual family dinner. My bohemian pants fastened over a long-sleeve top feel underdressed, save for Hope, Jeremy, and Gavin who seem equally casual.
“Sara didn’t tell me you were engaged.”
Jeremy finally returns my grip on our hands. He clears his throat and apparently remembers I’m here. “Mom’s been too busy to remember everything.”
“Jeremy and Sonya have known each other since they were kids,” Sara cuts in, then highlights the shared history between their families.
“Jeremy told me everything, actually.” I find strength in my role. After all, we’ve been preparing for this for over two months. “You’re back in your town after some time away, right?” I let my brow rise as I address Sonya. What I’m saying is that she’s recently divorced.
I think she gets the memo. She finally gives me her full attention. Her face hardens as she peers down at me, and her confidence almost wavers under my gaze. Despite the victory, something pinches my chest over causing her discomfort. I’m not like that, one to give such cheap shots.
A middle-aged man steps right between Sonya and us, diffusing the tension, and pats Jeremy’s shoulder. “Son.”
“Dad.” Jeremy engulfs the man in an embrace,then steps back and places his hand on my back, gently nudging me forward. “This is Zuri.”
To my surprise, the man puts out his hand to shake mine. As he asks if I was born in Colorado, I try not to think much about why Jeremy didn’t add fiancée to his introduction.
“I’m a San Francisco native, but I’ve always wanted to visit Colorado.” As the conversation shifts, my shoulders relax, and I allow myself the first deep breath since entering the house, relieved to steer away from my earlier discomfort.
“I’m hoping to take her skiing tomorrow.” Jeremy shifts his hand to my waist.
“Let’s make our way to the table for dinner. Come along, everyone.” Sara claps, slicing through our conversation with an air that brooks no argument.
I survey the expanse around us—a seamless transition from the main living area to what must be the dining room. This section of the house, too, boasts a lofty ceiling and floor-to-ceiling windows that bathe the space in the dying light. Each nook, be it beside a grand piano or atop a side table, plays host to fresh flowers, their subtle fragrance—a blend of roses and something sweet—mingles with the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen. Mom would have loved to have decorated such a place. And I must admit Sara’s done a beautiful job.
A whole procession surrounds us, their voices and chatter making the room lively. As we approach, I notice servers who were previously a blur in my peripheral vision, now navigating the room with loaded trays.
Jeremy and I stop at one of the two linen-draped tables beneath the chandelier. Before each cushioned chair is a plate, and floral cloth napkins wrap around the shiny silverware.
Sara, with a practiced grace, directs one of the couples toward a table near the fireplace. “Find your name,” her command emphasizes the evening’s formality.
“It’s just a casual dinner, Mom,” Jeremy mutters under his breath.
Her heels click against the floor as she turns, her gaze piercing to where Jeremy and I stand, his hand frozen midmotion over a chair he’d been about to claim. “Jeremy, you’re next to Sonya tonight.” She indicates across the table where Sonya is already ensconced. Then she offers us a nonchalant glance before accepting a wineglass half filled with red liquid from the server. “Your fiancée can sit over there with Gavin and Hope.”
She directs a semblance of an apologetic smile my way. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us.”
I bite the inside of my tongue to swallow the sting of her words as I nod. Hope warned me about Sara. So did Jeremy. And I even witnessed it in that brief moment in San Francisco. She has a knack for commanding a room and leaving others feeling slightly off-balance. But it doesn’t take a genius to know that the seats by the bride and groom are the most coveted. Her placing me there as if it’s the only open space for an afterthought guest is ridiculous.
“Zee is sitting here with me.” Jeremy’s firm tone leaves no room for protest as he pulls out a chair for me.
Wow, there’s the confident COO I know.
He then takes the seat beside me, dismissing his mother’s directive. With a defiant flick, he rearranges the name cards and tucks them beneath the decorative centerpiece as if to erase any evidence of the original seating plan.
“You can’t just mess up my seating arrangement.”
Sara’s complaint is a distant murmur as Jeremy focuses on me, his actions a silent rebellion. “Would you like something to drink besides water?” he asks. And, with that gentle defiance in his gaze, I can picture eighteen-year-old Jeremy defying his mom when he dated the ranchers’ daughter.
“Water’s fine.”
He touches my hand. “I promise I’ll get you some kombucha tomorrow, though I’m sure yours tastes better.”
His compliment and consideration warm me more than they should.
With Jeremy’s rearrangement, Sara relocates two people to the next table and moves Sonya to the chair across from us, then positions herself beside her. The table, designed to accommodate a dozen, feels more confining than I expected. Even when compared to the more expansive table by the fireplace where lively chatter rings out between Hope, Gavin, Patty, and Gavin’s dad. All the relaxed people are at that table.
Too bad, Jeremy didn’t drag us over there.
Dinner is finally served, steak and lamb, accompanied by an array of sides.
Cutlery chimes against porcelain, offsetting the steady hum of conversation, and I remain tense and out of place, despite Jeremy’s presence.
With Sara’s intensity cutting through the room, I don’t blame him for his silence. Goodness, even I don’t want to talk—far too mentally exhausted by her manipulative games.
Yet, undeterred, Sara presses on with her agenda. It’s clear now why she chose to position herself next to Sonya, overlooking her husband’s presence at the other table. “Sonya, sweetheart.” Her voice rises above the chatter as she swirls the red wine in her glass. “Why don’t you tell Jeremy about your new position?”
Sonya sits straight, dabbing at her lips with a napkin before flitting her gaze to Jeremy who’s focused on slicing his steak with savage force. “I’m now the curator at Opulence.” She nods and elaborates on her role, engaging in the sort of art acquisitions that would appeal to the most discerning of collectors.
“Good for you,” Jeremy mutters, a harsh sarcasm seeping free. He reaches for his water and takes a sip. “A private art gallery suits you well.”
Sonya, seeming oblivious to his disinterest, chatters on about the elite art gallery. “The challenges keep me engaged.”
I bite into my steak, letting myself savor the meal. There’s just the right amount of salt and garlic, and hmm, it’s tender.
Sara’s every question orchestrates the conversation between Jeremy and Sonya, and with how fast he’s eating his steak, he must be uncomfortable. I slip my hand under the table and place it on his free hand, squeezing it. He looks at me, and the wordless thank you in his eyes reveals an endearing vulnerability.
Sara, watching my every move, shifts her focus to me. “If I remember correctly, Jeremy’s fiancée is an aspiring chef, isn’t she?” she probes, her untouched meal forgotten. “Something along those lines?”
“She’s not just aspiring.” His defense catches me off guard, and the protective edge to his words warms me from the inside out. “She’s an exceptional chef.”
“Because you’re not a picky eater.” Caught in a moment of self-doubt, I downplay his praise. “Anyone can whip up spicy food and appetizers.”
“My Jeremy doesn’t eat spicy food.”
“Only in this house I don’t,” he says. “You don’t ever want Morgan to cook anything you don’t add to the menu.”
Jeremy had said his mom liked micromanaging, but I didn’t realize she controlled whatever the chef cooked.
“Zuri’s food would make you want to try spicy food.” He gives me a sideways glance, smiling. Wow, that’s the first time he’s smiled since his mom came onto the scene—that alone becomes the highlight of this night.
“Hmm.” Sara pinches her wineglass stem, then touches Sonya’s arm. “Remember that time you and Jeremy took a cooking lesson from Morgan?” Apparently, she’s sticking to her agenda—her obvious intent to rekindle the flame between Jeremy and Sonya.
“It was Jeremy’s idea.” Sonya glances at Jeremy flirtatiously. “I’m not sure why he thought we could pull off making pizza from scratch.” She inspects her fingers as if searching for something. “I still have the scar from the oven burn.”
“That was your first year together, right?” Sara lifts her wineglass toward Jeremy. “I knew then you two belonged together.”
“Well, that was then.” He draws out a sigh. “Now, we’re all looking forward to making new memories, aren’t we?”
As the final course brings in a more relaxed dessert session, the atmosphere changes. Laughter mingles with the clicking of silverware on dessert plates and the scent of chocolate and coffee. Gavin and Hope have taken the seats across from us, and Sonya has relocated to the table’s far end next to another sophisticated woman probably her age. The lack of formal introductions at the beginning of the night leaves many faces still unnamed.
Patty strolls to our table, dessert plate in hand. “What do you two lovebirds plan for this week leading to your wedding?”
“Speaking of plans…” Sara, seated next to Gavin’s left, swirls her chocolate-covered fork. “We’re all going to the ski cabin tomorrow. We’ll ski for the next two days.”
“What?”
Gavin and Jeremy’s simultaneous protest cuts through the nearby chatter. “Jeremy and I were planning to take Hope and Zuri—”
“That’s perfect,” Sara cuts off Gavin. “The cabin can accommodate twenty-five. It’ll allow us plenty of family bonding during the wedding week. With Jeremy staying at your house, Gavin, I figured we’d plan a different location for all of us to reunite.”
Jeremy gapes at me, then raises a hand. “That sounds great, Mom, but did you consider everyone’s plans? Zuri and I had discussed exploring the town.”
“Oh, pshaw.” Sara brushes aside his concerns with a dismissive wave. “There’ll be plenty of time for town exploration later. This is about the family reconnecting.”
His eyes narrow. “By reconnecting, you mean…?”
“Most of our friends here.” She flutters her hand around. “It’s been a while since we all spent time together at the cabin.”
“What better time to connect with everyone than at a wedding?” Hope touches her groom-to-be, probably to convince him Sara’s plan is all right.
By the time we leave for Hope’s house, I’m so ready for a break from Sara. I underestimated her. Now I’m wondering how I’d fit into Jeremy’s family should Sara ever become my mother-in-law. The question weighs on me when I sit with Hope at her dining table, sipping chamomile tea at ten o’clock.
“I always need a cup of tea after being in Sara’s presence.” Hope cradles her delicate cup, the steam from it curling into the air as she tests a sip. Her need for tea is understandable after the emotions Sara stirs up.
“How did she manage to convince you to let her take charge of your wedding?”
Hope shrugs, her silhouette blurry with the dim lighting barely reaching us from the seating area. “Sara is controlling, but she loves her children.” She nods to an African art piece on the wall. “I grew up with my father and stepmother. I still doubt they ever loved me.”
She then shares her upbringing, challenges, and struggles, and facing Sara’s overbearing involvement in her children’s lives pales in comparison. “Even though Sara tried to reunite Gavin with his ex and is still hoping she’ll convince Gavin to leave me for her idea of a perfect woman, I’d never come between them. I love Gavin, and it’s important that he doesn’t have a broken relationship with his mom because of me. Sometimes, it puts a strain between Gavin and Sara, especially when he ignores his mother’s calls out of frustration.”
She settles her cup back on the table. “I had to realize this isn’t just my wedding. It’s her oldest son’s wedding, and she wants to be part of planning it. I couldn’t take that away from her. At least we’re getting married at a different venue, not his childhood home.”
I shiver, probably from the thought of dealing with Sara on such a personal level. “You’re far more patient than I could ever be.”
“Don’t worry about Sonya.” Hope grasps my sleeve, then rubs my arm. “Despite her renewed feelings for Jeremy, he only has eyes for you.”
My thoughts drift to his behavior—to how he seemed unnerved upon seeing Sonya. I bite my lip as our time in the car on the ride here lingers in my mind. “He became so quiet. I’m not even sure if he regrets bringing me along.”
If he wanted to convince his ex that he’s happily moved on, he probably wishes he picked someone sleeker and more sophisticated. I’ve never considered myself self-conscious, but tonight, I felt everything I lack in height and beauty compared to Sonya and Sara.
“Trust me, Sara’s presence can shake anyone’s confidence.”
That I can believe. But am I strong enough to endure it? Is he?
Later, curled up in bed, I reach for my phone. There’s a group text from my friends. They want an update on my trip.
Flopping on my stomach, I shift to the edge of the bed and thrust my phone closer to the bedside light as I respond.
Zuri: Jeremy’s mom is out-of-this-world intense. I’ll need all the prayers.
I put the phone on the nightstand, but before I slide it out of my hand, it beeps.
Lexi: Show them the fire, the real you.
Olivia: Why would she be intense when you and Jeremy are literally not even pretending to be in love?
I chuckle. Then type.
Zuri: Maybe that’s what scares his mom. She wants Jeremy with the other woman.
Olivia: Lucky for you, you’re not the other woman for Jeremy.
Lexi: When are you going to see the family next?
Zuri: Headed skiing tomorrow. Two nights in a cabin with Jeremy’s mom and an ex.
Lexi: Don’t forget to take some pictures of the snow.
Olivia: Don’t let anyone intimidate you. You’re beautiful, confident, and you are you.
I smile. It’s so typical of Olivia with her sweet and tender caring nature.
Zuri: Thanks, girls. I’ll call you when I get there tomorrow. On the bright side, Jeremy’s brother and fiancée are so sweet, and they’ll be there too.
Lexi: That’s all you need on your side.
Olivia: Stand strong.
Their words comfort me, a reminder of the strength and support I have, regardless of the challenges Sara or the upcoming ski trip might present. With my heart lighter, I text my promise to call them tomorrow. Surely, the events and view will be worth facing his family dynamics.