Page 21 of Yours Temporarily

Glancing over my shoulder, I sight Lexi, Olivia, and Damien a few tables away. Lexi catches my eye and waves, her enthusiasm shining through the crowded room. I wave back, and she raises her thumb at me.

As our table for six fills with newcomers, including Nico, Logan, and his wife, an energetic buzz enlivens the banquet hall. The buffet offers plenty of choices. Steak, chicken, fish, and a variety of appealing sides. The rich scents of gourmet food are enticing. Soon, I savor each bite while lively conversations and laughter weave around me, and the sound of silverware against plates plays a duet with that violinist. The table hums with stories and discussions, especially as Jeremy, Nico, Logan, and a more reserved gentleman find common ground.

Seated next to Jeremy, with Serafina, the CEO’s wife, on my other side, I’m caught in conversation with someone new. Despite the hint of her pregnancy, I avoid personal comments, focusing on safer topics.

“I didn’t realize Jeremy had a girlfriend until today.” Serafina nudges her salad aside. Her bright eyes reflect her keen interest in Jeremy’s personal life. “At the bimonthly dinners and game nights, they all talk about personal relationships, but not Jeremy.”

At her unmistakable enthusiasm, I wince and halt in the middle of slicing into my steak. I’d better temper her expectations. “Jeremy and I are still figuring things out.”

“He seems really into you.”

When she nods toward him, I turn his way, his gaze finds mine, and I get it. I think he keeps stealing glances at me. My heart starts to thump, and I look away, then back to Serafina. Keeping my café’s financial backing a secret from her is probably a good idea. I doubt he wants his whole company to know about his fake relationship. So I switch the topic to how we met. “It was sort of my brother’s party, but I needed to showcase my recipes. I’m reopening the café downstairs under new management in April.”

“You’re a cook too? My bestie, Vanessa, is a chef. She turned to cooking to honor her late mother and has catered events for Stone Financial.” As we return to our meals, the conversation transitions to food—a universally engaging topic that bridges our new acquaintance.

Jeremy rises from his chair beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder, and a strange flutter shivers in my stomach. The proximity, the shared glances—it all feels alarmingly real.

Minutes dissolve into a charged anticipation, the feast has concluded, and the plates are being cleared away. The room, bathed in the chandeliers’ glow, hums with expectancy as Jeremy steps up to the microphone. “Good evening, everyone.”

He draws every eye toward the front. With such natural charisma, he embodies sophisticated confidence. “Tonight, we celebrate not just the success of our company but also the incredible individuals whose hard work and dedication make everything possible. Each award we present…”

At some point in his speech, I place my hand on my chin. He sure is natural as he speaks to the crowd, some two hundred or so employees are attending with their spouses—for those who have spouses and brought them along.

Cameras capture the event as he calls employees and hands them gifts of appreciation, plaques, or engraved pens for their outstanding contributions and leather-bound planners for forward-thinking and planning excellence.

Then he announces Damien as the Financial Analyst of the Year, and my chest swells as he strides toward the stage, the applause thunderous. “Damien”—Jeremy holds up an engraved plaque with the Stone Financial Enterprises logo over Damien’s name and award title—“your analytical skills and innovative strategies have significantly impacted our success. Thank you and congratulations!”

“That’s my brother!” I clap, unable to contain my excitement.

“Well deserved!” Nico chimes in at our table. “He’s set the bar high for all the analysts.”

Logan nods, and Serafina hugs me in congratulations for my brother.

Then Jeremy returns to his seat, his hand finding mine. He laces our fingers together and oh, how I love the feel of his strong warm grip. “You did great up there,” I whisper. Even if we’re fake, my pride in him is real.

“Thank you.” His gaze holds mine, a silent promise that perhaps, just maybe, the façade is crumbling a little.

Nico goes to the stage and hands out awards to people under his team. Then three more company leaders do the same.

I peer over the heads to catch my brother’s eye. He’s smiling ear to ear, and I wave. He waves back. I’m so proud of him and so grateful his hard work doesn’t go unnoticed.

The CEO takes the stage, and applause erupts. Then he calls Jeremy back to the stage. As applause fills the hall, Jeremy clasps his hands in front of him and keeps his head down while the CEO credits him for his innovative leadership and awards him a sleek, glass trophy symbolizing his vision.

Upon Jeremy’s return to the table, I stand and embrace him. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Zuri.” He kisses my cheek, and a camera flashes at us. Then he sits, but his hand still rests on my back. Our shared glances and proximity stir a fluttery sensation that blurs the line between pretense and reality, both thrilling and terrifying me.

The evening unfolds into music, and people move to dance. Everyone at our table leaves to join the packed dance floor.

“Dance with me.” Jeremy’s breath whispers warmth against my ear, and those fast-becoming familiar waves sluice through my body. He pulls back his chair, stands, and extends his hand to me. With his gaze alight, I can’t say no, even if I’m not a confident dancer.

We find a section to the side with enough space for the upbeat song. It doesn’t require much skill and draws me in right away. Jeremy is a great dancer. Soon, I’ve caught up to his rhythm, and we sway in sync. We cover the space around us as he takes my hand, spinning and twirling me to the music.

He grins down at me when the song ends.

I return his smile as he swings my hand. “You have some cool moves.”

“Makes it easy when you have the right dance partner.”

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