Page 67 of Yours Temporarily

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.

---