23. CHAPTER 23
Zuri
Squinting against the screen’s glow, I reread the financial spreadsheets Jeremy crafted last month outlining my café’s future. I don’t have to scroll back to two months ago to look at the projections he’d made for the remodel, mostly taking down the wall. I had to pay the architect and laborers, expenses I hadn’t expected I’d be responsible for given that I didn’t own the building. But it wasn’t on the company’s agenda to change the appearance of my café, so that was fair. Good thing Jeremy invested in the café.
I skim the current list to the additional refrigerator for cold teas and calorie-free beverages, the artisan bakery supplies, and the employee start-up payments, all of which came to mind later when Jeremy brought it to my attention.
Then I read the four necessary insurances we added to the café’s expenses. General liability, product liability, workers’ comp, and business interruption. I hadn’t anticipated any kind of insurance plan when I drafted what I needed for the business, but man, it’s a must.
With the grand opening a week away, doubt gnaws at me. What was I thinking when I took on a huge business venture?
Tomorrow, I’ll be meeting with the servers. Some are former employees of Carol’s Café, who agreed to stay on and work for me. I had to persuade a couple of them with a slight increase in their hourly pay, especially since the prolonged reopening left them out of work for months. It only worked out for them to wait for me because one of them tutors international students at night, and the other works virtually as a telemarketer during the night shift.
I scroll with the mouse, reading the list, and smile as I remember that Jeremy insisted on buying two registers and a computer dedicated to online orders. We have another employee to man the website and focus on the online orders, which will come in handy once customers embrace online ordering.
I click at the top to open another tab for my blog. A blank page I’d opened intending to share the café’s updates, but I don’t feel like typing anything today.
Even with background music to lull the silence, the house feels emptier than before.
The computer displays four fifty-five. Damien and my friends should be back from work soon. I breathe out, staring at the blog’s blank page, a mirror of the void I’ve been feeling since Jeremy and I returned to our lives. The whole fa?ade is behind us, and I hope we are still friends because the café has Jeremy’s fingerprints all over it.
It’s been an entire week after our silent flight back when he worked on his laptop while I watched a movie. Flying first class should’ve been a great experience, but I couldn’t enjoy it while seated next to Jeremy and acting like we were strangers.
I open another tab, now I have five of them open. Maybe it”s time to share something on my Facebook page—I haven’t posted a picture in ages.
I shift in the stool, having no desire to scroll through the folder to find what post to share.
The garage rumbles open. My friends must be home. And soon, they barrel into the house, chatting. Damien is arguing with Olivia about some financial thing I don’t have the energy to try to understand.
“What are we cooking for dinner?” Lexi asks.
Damien glances my way, setting his computer bag on the nearby table.
“I haven’t even thought about dinner.” I close my laptop. “Let’s order takeout.”
He frowns. “We’ve had takeout for the last five days.”
Olivia tosses her handbag on the island and wiggles onto a barstool. “I don’t mind takeout.”
“It adds up if we eat out all the time.” Damien yanks his tucked-in shirt from his pants, follows Lexi to the pantry, and snatches a cereal box.
“We can cook pasta,” Lexi says.
I shrug. “Cereal for dinner isn’t bad.” Yep, I’ve lost the desire to whip up meals. As odd as it seems, every time I cook, it brings back memories of Jeremy and our times in the kitchen. I slide my computer into its bag. I’m done working for the day too—not that I’ve accomplished anything. “How was work?”
“Where would you like me to start?” Lexi shakes Corn Flakes into a bowl. “Shall I rant about my boss or rave about the cool house I’ll be house-sitting in two weeks?”
“As long as you’re not house-sitting for six weeks this time.” I slip my arm around her and rest my head against her shoulder. “I need all my friends around as I wallow for the next however many days.”
“I got the Analyst of the Month,” Olivia pipes up, and I congratulate her. ‘The funniest part was getting to throw a pie in Jeremy’s face. It’s a tradition—for the annual pie war, the March analyst gets to throw a pie at the COO’s face.”
My mind rushes to Jeremy and our kitchen food wars. I fight the urge to ask how he’s been doing this week. Has he missed me as much as I’ve missed him? I swallow all the questions and set the computer bag at my feet, slumping further onto the stool.
Damien pours two bowls of cereal, slides one to Olivia, then nudges me. “You want any?”
I shake my head.
A silence settles with the hum of the fridge as my friends pray, then resume eating.
“What happened between you and Jeremy?” Damien’s question catches me off guard, and I blink.
“Did he say anything? Of course nothing.”
His brows rise. “You’d better tell me what he did. Otherwise, I’m gonna confront him tomorrow.”
“Damien!” I slap the island. “You can’t fight my battles.” My secret presses a heavy weight on me. “He didn’t do nothing.”
“You’ve been down ever since you came back from that stupid trip. Kress has been acting strange around me—guilty or something.” He raises his hands. Then his gaze flicks to my ring finger. “You haven’t been flaunting that ring around either. You’re gonna tell me what happened?”
The girls are silent, acting almost guilty, and I clasp my hands together. It’s long past time I come clean.
I blow out air as I’ll need a deep inhale. “Jeremy and I had made an arrangement. He needed a fiancée…” The words fly out of my mouth fast as I focus on the ceiling, clearly needing divine intervention.
“You mean you two were faking it?” It’s Damien’s turn to slap the island.
I jolt, and the cereal bowls shake.
Olivia winces.
So Damien pivots to her. “You knew about this?”
She doesn’t answer.
When he asks Lexi, she raises both hands. “Don’t include me in sibling issues. I like you both, and I still need a place to stay… so.”
“Yes, I told them not to tell you.” The words are slow and painful as I drag them out of my mouth. “You didn’t like Jeremy in the first place. I didn’t think you’d be on board with it.”
“You think I’m all for being lied to?” Damien’s chest rises, then falls. The depth of disappointment as he looks at Olivia slices through my heart. He must be hurt that his best friend kept this from him.
“It’s me you should blame,” I say, but it doesn’t make things any better.
He pushes back from the island, seeming not hungry anymore, leaving his cereal untouched as his sullen gaze sweeps over us. “You all decided to keep me in the dark?”
His pained voice makes me ache. I’m so disappointed in myself. Ugh, I’m such a terrible person. How does God put up with people like me?
“Jeremy told me to tell you, but…” I shake my head, needing to make sure he doesn’t go attacking Jeremy over this.
“I can’t believe this.” He fists his hands into tight balls and walks to the dining table to grab his computer bag. “You could’ve told me you needed funds for your business.”
He’s forgetting he has looming college funds to pay for. Now isn’t the time to remind him of that.
“You can’t keep taking care of me. I didn’t want you to know about my needs.”
He shakes his head, then goes to the hall, and heads upstairs.
We stare at each other. Olivia’s shoulders drop, and her gaze lowers to the cereal. “I should’ve told him.”
“I know.” I dragged everyone into my lies.
“He tells me everything, and I kept this big thing from him.” Olivia plants a hand on her cheek.
Great. I’ve caused strife in their friendship.
We’re sitting in silence, Lexi munching her cereal and Olivia staring at her bowl when Damien returns. Gone are his work clothes, exchanged for jeans and a black hoodie. He snatches the car keys from the counter.
“You’re leaving?” Olivia hops up, wringing her hands.
“I’ll be back at ten.” He doesn’t bother to look at us.
I know better than to attempt to talk to him when he’s upset, so does Olivia. I’ll reason with him after he cools down tonight.
The back door slams. Olivia pulls flour from the pantry, then swings open more cabinets. “Chocolate chip cookies are perfect for dinner.”
Lexi lifts another spoonful to her mouth, then wags the empty spoon at our friend. “I get it—you and your bestie had a falling out. But cookies for dinner are not going to cut it.”
Regardless, we end up settling for Olivia’s cookies and cereal for dinner.
With Damien still mad at us the next day, he drives his car, leaving Olivia and Lexi to drive separately. Olivia is barely talking to me either. Until things work out with her and Damien, our friendship will be on edge.
I hold it together as I meet with my employees. Instead of the three I’d thought, Jeremy insisted I start with five and let one go later should I realize I don’t need that much help. I’ve made that clear to the fifth hire. We go through our objectives and strategies for next week.
After the meeting, I linger in hopes Jeremy will show up. Of course, he doesn’t.
The end of the day isn’t much different at home, except it’s worse when the girls return and we talk about dinner plans.
“Damien went on a date with Jessie.” Olivia drags out the words, her hands resting on her chin. “Good for him.”
I sip my kombucha, another memory of Jeremy now. “Damien’s not listening to me here at home. I’ll make his favorite meal at the café tomorrow and bring it to his office. Perhaps then he’ll listen to me.”
“This little fight gave him enough courage to ask her out.” Olivia snatches celery from the plate Lexi just slid on the table. She then chomps. “Who cares.”
Yep, she’s upset about Damien’s cold shoulder. Or is she more bothered about Jessie spending time with Damien today?
Olivia eyes the oven. “I feel like baking something.”
“Why do you think I pulled out some healthy snacks?” Lexi smirks and bites into a carrot. “Okay, guys, we’re all sad, but can we not eat cookies again for dinner?”
She then snatches her phone and scrolls through. “I’m ordering us salads and maybe we can have some ice cream after.” As she takes command, we don’t argue. “Now might be a good day to drag you both rock climbing with me.”
“No rock climbing for me.” Olivia rolls her eyes.
While I could learn rock climbing, I don’t feel like it now. “I already had my adventures for the year.” Skiing being one of them.
Lexi’s dinner salad works out perfectly. Several minutes later, we’ve showered, changed into our jammies, and settled on the sofa to eat our salads in front of the TV. We’re laughing as we watch one of our favorite office comedies, The Dynamic.
When we finish eating, I take everyone’s plate to the kitchen and return with a tub of vanilla ice cream. Not wanting the cold to seep into my hand, I keep the container in a bowl to hold it since I’m seated between Olivia and Lexi.
“I can understand why Olivia has thrown herself into this wallowing frenzy.” Lexi reaches for her spoon to scoop ice cream from the container, then shakes the spoon at me. “I still don’t understand why you had to give Jeremy back the ring.”
“Keeping a secret from your brother was all for nothing.” Olivia scoops a glob of ice cream. “I’d hoped you and Jeremy weren’t pretending anymore, and we wouldn’t have anything to lie about.”
“I thought so too.” I barely have the energy to eat this frozen treat as I repeat what I told them days ago. “I need to hear the words from him. I can’t keep getting caught up in this game of back and forth.”
I scoop the ice cream, and the creamy concoction melts comforting sweetness into my tongue. My gaze remains on the screen at the boss as I assure Olivia that, before the end of tomorrow, she and Damien will reconcile their friendship.
“I finally found Cracker Jacks at a convenience store.” Olivia mentions her apology offering to Damien, stirring an idea for me too. “I asked Nadia to help me leave them on his desk after he left. He should see it first thing in the morning.”
“Tomorrow is Friday. He can’t hold a grudge all weekend.” A spark of optimism lights up my thoughts. Hmm… I know the perfect apology meal. “I’m going to give that new toaster a test run.”
I jitter a bit, more from anticipation over tomorrow’s culinary adventure than from the sugar rush. Still, I scoop up more ice cream, its coolness soothing on my tongue.
With my plan in motion at the café the next afternoon, I’m juggling several tasks while grilling the perfect loaded cheese sandwich. Then, just as perfection seems within reach, I burn it and set off the fire alarm. Its shrill blare ushers the entire building”s employees into the parking lot—a less-than-ideal advertisement for my café to potential customers.
Not to mention this is the last way I want to face Jeremy again. He’s probably glad to be rid of me—nothing more than a short jot in his ledgers. But I’ve got to get over this. I seldom had self-worth issues before his wishy-washy ways—talk about the perfect concoction for stewing a girl in doubt.
I stiffen my spine and grind my teeth. I’m done letting him or my past boyfriend or even my silly mistakes like today’s debacle define who I am. I may have set off the fire alarm, but I’m a good chef and—as Olivia said—I am beautiful, confident, and me. Qualities no one else can claim. Plus,I’m about to realize my vocational dreams. What more can anyone ask for?
Sure, I’d love to know if he”s part of my future recipe, but with or without him, I’m ready to cook up whatever comes my way.