Page 64 of Out of Office

Anita, with her tough persona and boldness, instantly melted.

“Of course, I can. Oh, that would be lovely,” she said, smiling, then growing pensive. “Promise me you’ll never let any external forces fuck with y’all. Make time for each other...prioritize each other. I think that was Calito’s and my miss...but hey, now that I know, maybe there’s time to fix things.” She grinned, and I couldn’t help the pang of alarm that traveled through me at her advice.

The call with Black Travel Chronicles went flawlessly. The owner was Latoya Jenkins, Black woman in her late thirties just like me, who was deeply interested in my pitch of collaboration with organic partnerships for marketing. Latoya loved the idea of having our Tropics properties, and I made sure to plug Villa Bonita, be the hosts to different Black traveler influencers, highlighting our hotels and experiences through the eyes of their correspondents. The main hook that really resonated with her was our plan of opening properties in Black towns but owned by people of the area, or with heritage from the area, connecting the traveler with experiences that were authentic and keeping dollars in the surrounding areas. We ended the call with plans of meeting in person in the next couple of weeks.

“Hola, Preciosa, I missed you today. I’ve been moping around without your company,” Adrián crooned through my cell phone as I finalized my last task of the day. I sat with no shoes on, feet in my massager, my ergonomic chair pulled away from my desk. Just the sound of Adrián’s voice and my body was on high alert for all the pleasure and love.

“I missed you too...work clothes feel so sensitive on my skin now...after all that naked time we had on Sunday,” I murmured back, my finger going to one of my coils that had sprung free. After such vigorous activities during the weekend, I’d forgone the silk press. Who had time for a salon appointment when you have an all-day inclusive pass to Dickland?

“So, will you be home soon, or should I see to this fellow who’s been hard all day?” he asked, and I chuckled.

“Nah, tell my friend there to hold firm. I’ll be home soon to take care of—”

“Genevieve, I have news for you.” Ricard waltzed into my office, making me jump.

“Hi,” I said while Adrián kept telling me about his dick and the despicable things he planned to do to me tonight. I turned down the volume of my receiver, afraid Ricard could hear.

“Babe, babe, Adri... Ricard is here. I gotta go, okay?”

I hung up, uncomfortable with my ruined panties, as Ricard sat before me.

“So, I need you to pack a bag and head to Panamá first thing tomorrow morning. There is a prospective owner interested in the Colón project. Now that we almost have your fiancé locked in, this is an opportunity we cannot pass. He is Afro-Panamanian, just as we wanted, but lives in New York. He’s in town for other business and wanted to meet.”

Shit, another trip, and with such short notice... I’d jump for joy for going to Panamá, but right now Adrián couldn’t travel with me...he’d have to stay behind while I went for a couple of days. My chest tightened at the thought of giving him this news, but I couldn’t let this opportunity pass me by.

Buoyed by the reminders of my call with Black Travel Chronicles and how interested they’d been in partnering with projects that were connected to the land and offering experiences for Black travelers looking to avoid making a negative impact on the areas they planned to visit made me fill with a new sense of purpose.

“Okay... I’ll get home and ready for that. I... you know it’s hard now to just up and jump for travel. It was manageable for me before, but I’d love to discuss when I return how we can minimize these instances now that I have my family—”

“Let me stop you right there, dear. This is part of the job. You signed up for it, besides once Adrián is on board, he’ll probably be doing tons of travel too, of course, he has a bit more control than you.” Ricard gave me a kind smile that didn’t match the message. She really had the best intentions, but was so far removed from the type of balance I was looking for that I couldn’t help but deflate at her words.

“Still... I want us to meet, maybe when I’m back Thursday or...” I trailed off when Ricard shook her head.

“You won’t be back ’til Friday night. He wants a private meeting tomorrow, then a full presentation for him and his executive committee on Friday afternoon. You can maybe jump on the last flight that night.”

A sharp pain lanced my head, an eerie coldness running through my body.

“I cannot be there on Friday. It’s my wedding day.”

“Oh, child, please. Your mom told me it’s just a formality.” Ricard waved a hand at me. “A quick visit to the court and done. Y’all can reschedule that for another day. I’m sure Adrián will understand.”

My heart ached at the decision in front of me, my feet heavy as I ambled through to the end of the day. If I refused the trip, would that hurt our chances with this investor? This was the type of developer I was hungry to work with; it would be the right thing for the areas around Aguimar, and it would even be great for Adrián. It would set his first project close to Villa Bonita. And if it meant us postponing our wedding for a few days well...the end result was for the best. For all of us.

I knew what I signed up for when I took this job; I understood the type of sacrifices it would take. Missing family celebrations and such was never a concern because I had tailored my life to mirror my career, but now with Adrián it was different. I had to think of him.

I packed up my laptop to go home. My heart raced—my brain clouded in what-ifs, and alternatives to make it all work, but in the end the only variable that was fully controllable by me was changing my wedding day.

Our wedding date.

My stomach crumpled to the floor as I realized what I needed to do and hoped to heavens Adrián would understand.

Dread infused every step as I walked into our apartment.

Adrián, the goofball, was sitting on the sofa, no clothes on with a huge black velvet bow covering his crotch, his brawny arms and chest burnished warm brown, begging for my touch. Next to him was a bottle of lube. When he noticed my gaze shifting to the bottle, he wiggled his thick eyebrows and winked. That wink was deployed to cause a riot in my panties, and it worked damn it. Even while my hands were sweaty and my chest hurt, he could make me yearn for him with just a wink.

“I was thinking we could do a repeat of Saturday, maybe your finger ventures farther than—”

Oh no, I couldn’t handle his cute banter right now—I needed to say what I had to say or I would lose my courage.

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