24. CHAPTER 24
Jeremy
With the employee parking lot behind our glass building in a flurry, we await permission to return indoors. “I’d hoped to tackle some tasks before our meeting,” the IT manager beside me comments. I offer her a sympathetic nod, but my focus shifts, propelled by whispers that Zuri is the catalyst for today’s unplanned exodus.
Beneath the thick gray sky, I survey the displaced employees, searching for Zuri. There she is. Standing apart from the crowd, she’s wearing a simple white blouse that makes her seem almost ethereal against the foggy backdrop. She wipes her hands on her dark jeans, head bowed, and engages in a discussion with a fireman stationed in front of the fire truck. Despite the distance, her apologetic posture tugs my heart.
Witnessing her in such a vulnerable state stirs a whirlwind of emotions. She must be grappling with embarrassment and regret after triggering a building-wide evacuation. With her culinary prowess, the toaster-oven mishap—as highlighted by one fireman—likely stemmed from an adventurous attempt at a new recipe, rather than the ones on the café’s menu.
The impulse to cross the parking lot, wrap her in a comforting embrace, and reassure her that mistakes are part of life nearly overwhelms me. After all, no one was harmed, and no one is perfect.
That’s not all I would like to tell her, though. Before she came into my life, I was content in my solitude, navigating life with a comfortable, predictable rhythm. Like a figure missing or added to a spreadsheet, her presence realigned the way I calculated my existence. Now, I’m not sure how I ever found satisfaction in my former normal.
If only I could’ve relayed how I felt before she handed the ring back to me.
“It’s safe now.” A firefighter by the fire truck blasts the megaphone announcement. “You can now get back into the building.”
Zuri is one of the first people to disappear through the side door. Now, with the many people between us, I’m left battling how to get to her. I breathe in the midafternoon breeze as people return to the building.
When I return to my office, Jill is making her way to her desk, then instead rushes toward me. She waves a hand for me to keep walking as she trails me. “I’ll follow you to your office. I know, once you get behind that seat, you won’t want to talk about personal matters.”
I stop inside and turn to Jill, now hovering at the entrance. “I’m already in my office.” I’m also already aware of what she’s going to say, so I raise my hand to stop her. But that doesn’t ever stop this woman from speaking her mind if she believes it serves me right. Which I don’t mind since she has my best interests at heart.
“This is my last time talking about Zuri.” As her southern twang drawls, I have no choice but to listen when she grinds me about Zuri and why she hasn’t come by lately. “If you didn’t do anything to end things with her, why can’t you do something to make her notice you?”
I drag out a breath, push up my sleeves, and stare at my persistent assistant. After three days without lunch deliveries from Zuri or her spontaneous pop-ins, Jill became suspicious by last Friday. While I see no need to tell her we were in a fake relationship, I explained we were taking a break. “I already said, she’s busy launching her café. Next week is the grand opening.”
She plants a hand on her hip, the button of her black blazer almost popping from the hole. “Don’t tell me you plan to work on Monday when your fiancée has a grand opening.”
I’ve entertained the idea of taking Monday off. Or would it be imposing on Zuri if I act too seriously about this whole relationship thing?
“I have a meeting to get ready for.” I wave to Jill while internally acknowledging I have to do something, even if I’m not sure how to approach this delicate matter.
“The department heads won’t blame you if you show up a few minutes late.” She remains planted there as if saying what she’s saying is more important. “Plus, that meeting is an hour away.”
Right. If I want to end this lecture, I have to play along. So I thank her for the advice.
When she leaves, I sit on my desk chair. The refrigerator hum imitates my turmoil. My gaze drifts to the picture on my desk. Zuri and me when we met. I’m not ready to part with it yet. It’s a snapshot of a moment that now feels like a lifetime ago. Her smile and the way we fit into each other’s opposite worlds only deepens the somber mood that’s taken hold of me since we decided to go our separate ways. Her absence invades every space in my office, even my penthouse, although she hasn’t ever been at my house. She still dominates my mind when I close my eyes. I can almost smell her perfume on me constantly. Somehow, a huge hole has punctured my heart, the gap of her absence. Until now, I didn’t realize I had quite an, um, active imagination, to say the least.
Work has always been my constant companion. It got me through my separation from Sonya. But this is Zuri we’re talking about. My supposed future and not my past.
I open my drawer, and I pull out the velvet ring box again housing her ring. Funny, I still had the box from the day I proposed. After I slid the ring on her hand, the box stayed in my pocket.
As the diamond sparkles in the sunlight streaming through the windows, I smile. My chest swells at how accurately I picked out her ring. It fit her perfectly, and she didn’t have to resize it. This ring belongs to her, and her alone.
After putting back the ring in my drawer, I reach for my phone. The selfie I took on our fake-engagement day stares at me, more real than the ruse I’d assumed we would carry on. I’d saved it as my background in case Mom somehow got ahold of my phone during our visit home. That part succeeded so well, and I think Mom believed us. Sonya backed off, Zuri and I went our separate ways, and it all worked out as intended. Only, by then, I no longer wanted the plan to work—I wanted us to work.
Now, for reality, I need to take some crucial steps.
Zuri is as real to me now as she was the day I slid that ring on her finger.
It’s been almost twenty minutes since the fire-drill fiasco. I have a legit excuse to text her. I need to know how she’s feeling.
Jeremy: Rumor has it you burned down the café.
My phone dings a response so soon that my chest warms. Her name on the screen looks just right. I swipe to read her text.
Zuri: What a way to start a business. Does a business advisor carry some of the blame?
I smile. At least she still has her humor.
Jeremy: I just wanted to see if you’re okay.
My thumb hovers. Should I add anything else? I’ve never been one to text long messages, and what I need to say to her is longer than any balance sheet. Soon, those promising three dots appear then vanish, then appear then vanish. This happens several times before the message arrives.
Zuri: I’m okay. Are you?
I scratch my jaw. Now how to answer that.
A knock on my door has me spinning toward it. Damien emerges, lurking at the door this time rather than storming in the way he usually does. He’s probably decided to respond to my email in person rather than emailing me back.
“You got a minute?”
I nod and place my phone face down on the desk. Then I shift into my leather chair. “Have you decided whether to take that job or not?”
He doesn’t need a week to think about it if he wants a promotion.
“While I don’t think I’m qualified to take on the role of regional manager, I’m not here to discuss the job.” His eyes hooded, he crosses his arms. “Thanks for thinking about me, but the position also involves you training me. So, first, we’d better settle our personal issues.”
He can receive training from the previous manager, but if I train him myself, he’ll know what I expect from him, rather than having to learn as he goes. “If you’re interested, make sure to send your application to HR by next Friday. It’s a competitive position.”
He sucks in a breath before drawing it out. “I’m here to talk about Zuri.”
A knot tightens my stomach, my defenses going up. “Damien—”
“Don’t even start with me about your office not being the place for personal talk.” He shakes his head and puts on that firm leadership persona he’ll need should he be the regional manager.
I have no choice but to lean my hands on the desk and give him a few minutes of my time. “I have a meeting in”—I glance at my watch—“thirty minutes.”
“Why did you do it?”
I can’t pretend not to know what he’s talking about.
“My sister is miserable, and if you were just acting around her, then you had no right to make her fall for the wrong guy.”
I palm the back of my neck, my muscles tensing. “You said it yourself. I’m not the right person for your sister.”
Perhaps I’m also seeking Damien’s approval. Still, I can’t look at him, so I face the window. The city is active now, near lunchtime.
“Do you like Zuri or not?”
At his question, my gaze jerks his way, unbidden. His nostrils flare, and his pain is a gut punch, forcing me to confront the situation.
“From the start, it was… complicated.” I move my hand on the desktop, needing to stay busy, and reach for my pen beside the keyboard. “The day I slid the ring on her finger, everything clicked. I saw myself spending the rest of my life with her.”
Emotion lodges in my throat, and I struggle to talk around it. So, I tap my pen on my chin, not daring to look at him and reveal how deep I’d fallen. I’m the boss here, and breaking down in front of my employee won’t go in the books.
“At least, you asked her to tell me the truth.” He smirks. “You know she almost burned down the building making me a reconciliation sandwich.” Damien mentions the dispute he had with Zuri over the lie, and I feel responsible. However, his relaxed demeanor reassures me he’s no longer mad at his sister. I can already picture her thoughtfulness in making things right with him—with everyone if she had her way.
“Zuri with her reconciliation meals.” A chuckle escapes my lips. She’d brought me a meal to reconcile the day my mom showed up.
I miss those days when we had lunch together. My lunches lately have been hit or miss. Today, at least, I’ll have lunch with the department heads as we review progress and discuss new objectives for the company strategies.
“What are you going to do about it?” His question draws my gaze to him. His expression softens, and that’s a big deal. But I’m still not prepared for the hint of his smile that follows. “You’re in love with my sister. But have you made it clear you love her, or are you waiting for her to come here and hand-feed you her feelings?”
His question hangs in the air, and I barely hear his farewell as he walks out. No doubt, what I feel for Zuri is love. With her, I experienced emotions I never experienced with anyone.
She’s a chef with a loose schedule, and I’m the guy who always has a plan. But we make a great team. Our conversations flow. Even when we flew back in silence, I felt comfortable just because she was seated next to me. With her, I feel respected, understood, and valued.
My chest rises, and so do I as I pull to stand. I have a meeting soon, which I intend to make, but I need to see Zuri before she leaves. I step out of my office.
Jill tips her chin toward the conference table beyond the watercooler. “Marino got here early.”
“Perfect.” I walk over to where I usually meet with the department heads for in-person meetings. Perhaps Nico can lead the meeting until I get here. I call out as I near the table, and he looks up from his laptop. Frowning.
“Let me guess. You haven’t talked to her yet.” He trains his eyes on me, seeming disappointed after his and Wes’s prep talk on Sunday. “I thought I had problems.”
“I didn’t realize you’re so eager for the meeting.” I stop him from talking about Zuri.
He leans back and drapes a hand over the back of his chair. “You’ll never guess what I got myself into.” He nods a few times. With that grin he’s got going, I might be here for a while, but I still want to know.
“You decided to run for president?” I snicker. “Now that would be something for someone who wasn’t born in America.”
“This is even crazier.” He emphasizes crazier. “I finally agreed to my rock-climbing instructors’ plan for this blind date she’s been nagging me about.” He lifts his hands, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize I was that optimistic, but seriously, do people still go on blind dates?”
“I was fake dating. Didn’t know such a thing existed until I went for it.” Now I’m in love, and I have to tell him about my plan. “I gotta go talk to Zuri. Can we talk about your blind date later?”
I then request he run the meeting until I return. Jill usually sends out the agenda to the team before the meeting.
“When’s lunch delivered anyway?” Nico checks his laptop screen as if he hasn’t heard my urgency and request. But he must’ve because he waves me off. “Go get the girl already!”
***
My palms sweat as I step into the café’s open-air front room with tables arranged under the new overhead lights. Cheery artwork depicts people gathered around dining tables or laughing alongside displays of fresh fruit and vegetables. I navigate the rows between seating arrangements, my chest swelling, my pride not only for Zuri’s realized dream but also for my small part in her journey.
But the unmistakable hint of burnt bread undermines the smell of new furniture and a faint smell of fresh paint. As I approach the kitchen door, trickling water boosts my hope. She’s there. Not long ago, she guided me back there to prepare our dinner as we discussed our fake arrangement. Little did we both know her invitation into her world would unlock my heart.
Hesitation grips me at the threshold, and a battle between hope for the future and fear of the unknown anchors my feet.
Zuri stands by the sink, washing her hands, her gaze fixed on a to-do list on the nearby corkboard. The AC kicks on, and its breeze wafts in, tousles her short curls, and highlights the simple appeal of her maroon leggings and black top. Gone are her jeans and white top. The outfit effortlessly accentuates her hourglass form. She’s breathtaking. My breath catches.
She turns off the faucet, and I clear my throat to make my presence known. Still, she jumps a bit, turning around. Her hands, dripping water, clutch at her heart as she gasps. “Jer!”
Warmth floods me at her familiar endearment. Jer. I’ve longed to hear it, to be near her. I should’ve brought her ring with me. I want it back on her finger where it belongs.
We both stand frozen, locked in each other’s gaze, absorbing the sight of one another. If only looks could satisfy my longing as I take in her doe-brown eyes, so sweet and innocent.
My chest heaves with each breath, my mind racing yet blank—no prepared speech comes to mind. But perhaps, at this moment, words are unnecessary.
Still, I clear my throat. She’s waited too long for me to voice my mind. “When you walked into my office three months ago with that apology meal, I was famished. The aroma alone distracted me from my wait for someone else, a different woman I’d planned to rope into being my fake fiancée for the wedding.” How that other woman has faded into insignificance! “She’s a distant memory now, and her face barely registers. But I had described to Jill the ‘perfect woman’ I expected that day.”
A light laugh escapes as I recall the miraculous turn of events. “Jill sent the other woman away before you arrived, claiming she didn’t fit the description I’d outlined. Then you showed up, the stunning woman I’d described. You, not her, were meant to walk through that door.”
“I call it divine intervention.” She shakes a finger at me, and her smile, so infectious and warm, lights up her features. “And to think, you weren’t even supposed to be at that party. Remember how I practically slammed the door in your face?”
“Yet you invited me before you even knew me.”
With a shrug that belies her kindness, she confesses. “Damien was skeptical you’d come. But I pushed for your invitation. I saw an opportunity for him—and perhaps for me—”
“To see a side of me hidden from the world.” I take a slow step forward. “You always see the good in everyone, Zee. Despite any preconceptions Damien may have shared, you chose to see beyond them.”
“Food gatherings have a way of breaking down walls.”
But I’m letting her steer the conversation away from what I fear to say. I dare not do that again. A deep breath drags out my innermost confession.
“You shouldn’t have given me the ring back.” My voice lowers to a whisper as my trembling hands seek refuge in my pockets to stay concealed.
“But you mentioned after the wedding—”
“That was before I knew you, before I spent time with you and realized what I was missing.” Before the pivotal moment in our relationship. “There were no rehearsed lines the day I proposed to you on the rooftop. Yet, looking into your eyes, brimming with hope and trust, I found myself envisioning our future together.”
Why did I ever think this would be hard to say? The truth pours from me now.
“The calmness you instill in me overwhelms my senses, compelling my words to spill freely. Your faith and sincerity inspire me.” I advance toward her, and the warmth emanating from her smile suffuses my being, a sensation that sends joy spiraling through me. My chest warms. “Whenever you’re upset because of me, I feel lost and empty.”
As I take another step, she mirrors my movement, closing the distance between us. With each step forward, my words flow more effortlessly, driven by the truth in my heart.
“I’m compelled to step away from my desk so I can spend time with you.” I’m tempted to skip the upcoming meeting. “But more than anything, I like you so much—I can’t imagine going back to a life without you in it.”
She presses a hand to my cheek, closing the gap entirely. “The main reason I agreed to this fake arrangement was because I liked you from the start. I love you, Jeremy Kress.”
I sweep her into my arms, lifting her off her feet.
“We’re in luck, Zee.” Breathing in her essence, I set her down and cup the softness of her chin. “Because I’m in love with you too, and this time, it’s not just temporary.”
At last—oh, at long last—I kiss her, investing all my pent-up emotion and excitement into the moment. She kisses me back, and relief washes over me—relief and gratitude for having found someone to love who loves me back. No doubt, Zuri is mine permanently.