Page 35 of Yours Temporarily

“I’m not sure what interaction I’m going to offer,” he says. “But as long as you sit at the same table, I should be okay.”

He drops his gloves in the bin by the back room, and I do the same. “You did just fine with Greg,” I squish my face in mock-seriousness. He imitates me, chuckling as he takes my hand.

As we walk toward the hum and activity of the dining area, hand in hand, my heart is overflowing. Every step with Jeremy deepens my affection, my feelings fermenting and rising like bread dough warmed by the spring sun.

CHAPTER 13

Zuri

Besides him accompanying me to the monthly cookout at the mental hospital, we went to another company event—bowling—as a couple, and I teamed up with Jeremy. The air buzzed with the clamor of tumbling pins and spirited victory shouts, a backdrop to our connection. Even Damien, who has been slow to warm up to Jeremy, shows signs of thawing, especially after receiving recognition at work. His gradual, if reluctant, acceptance feels like a victory in itself.

Our adventures span from rain-soaked hikes through lush forests, breathing in the rich aroma of wet earth and foliage, to hours spent collaborating on the café’s renovation, business strategy, and necessary insurance coverage. Insurance is something I’d underestimated, but so crucial. In addition to collecting data, he created a slideshow that outlined a vision for the new-and-improved café. I still don’t grasp all the business lingo, but I can leave the business planning for him. He’s smart, experienced, and confident—which boosts my confidence that my business won’t be a flop.

Jeremy has woven himself into my daily life. The meals we share, whether planned or spontaneous, remain each day’s peak moments. I’ve learned so much about his personality—the things that make him laugh, the quirks that make him Jeremy, and the aspirations that make him driven. With each revelation, my heart grows fonder.

Yet, as our connection deepens, so does the complexity of my emotions. One question haunts me: Is this merely an act, or have I fallen for him? The answer seems clear, especially now as I stand in my café, supposedly working, but instead imagining what he’s doing at the moment. He’s all I can think of.

I should be supervising the final touches, but being in the building is just an excuse to have delivered lunch to Jeremy earlier. The painters are busy at work, covering the walls in the sage green that should be the perfect soothing color to add a calm freshness to the space.

The man on the ladder strokes the brush alongside the ceiling, the color transforming the room. But the corner looks slightly off. Maybe he just needs to add another coat.

I walk over to the person mixing paint, his back curved over on the tarp covering the floor. When I approach, he stops stirring. “Can we make that corner brighter?” I point to a spot near the window. The rain outside has changed from pouring hard to falling softly. “I want the sunlight to show off the colors.”

He shakes his head. “Ma’am, I can go get another color if you like. But then we have to paint the whole wall again so it matches. If it looks dark to you right now, remember it has to dry.”

Right. How silly of me. Then I ask if he needs something to drink, but he tells me he still has the water I gave him two hours ago.

Time is flying as we get closer to the café’s big opening day at the end of April. Every day, I feel more excited and nervous. More than a dream coming true, this is showing a part of me to the world.

My time with Jeremy these last two months has been like a storybook romance. To our friends and even my brother and Jeremy’s assistant, we seem like a couple. Jill lights up when I come to see Jeremy and always says, “Go right on, sugar,” even if he’s in a meeting online.

I find reasons to visit, sometimes just to see him, and he always makes time for me. He never seems bothered, just calls for a fifteen-minute recess and steps away to focus on me.

And I enjoy these moments more than I thought I would. His office has become a special place where our pretend relationship feels more real. Every time he smiles at me, my heart thrums, and I forget we’re a fake couple.

Jeremy might feel the same way too.

With these thoughts in my head, I retreat to my makeshift office in the kitchen where my computer awaits on the counter. I have to add pictures to the recipes to upload on my blog.

The rain’s rhythmic slap against the windowpane weaves a serene soundscape as my fingertips dance across the keyboard. The air, still tinged with fresh paint, makes me want to bake something to replace the artificial smell with a warm, comforting aroma. Maybe I’ll bake some cookies to thank the painters for their hard work.

I stop typing the recipe to upload the photos Lexi took a few days ago. The clock on my computer says it’s three. The new fridge buzzes in the background. The freezer was salvageable, so I didn’t have to buy a new one. All the appliances remind me of my temporary relationship with Jeremy—a deal we made.

I’ve taken two weeks off to focus on getting the café ready. Besides editing blog photos and volunteering at the rehab center, I’ve attended a networking meeting with other café and restaurant owners to hear their insights and explore potential partnerships. I’ve also been finalizing permits, insurance, and other legal requirements for the café. Additionally, I’ve met with potential suppliers at the farmer’s market and conducted research to get a feel for café trends in the area.

My blog followers, especially those in San Francisco, are excited about the opening, so the café should do well once it starts. I’ll be able to pay back Jeremy for any money borrowed from him.

Falling for him complicates things, which is why I insisted on a loan rather than accepting his money. We haven’t agreed yet on whether he’ll let me pay back or not.

Lost in thought, my name barely penetrates until I hear it again, clearer this time—the one that only one person calls me. “Zee.”

Jeremy’s in the doorway, his smile soft, tender. He’s rolling up his sleeves, a gesture that offers a glimpse of his strong forearms, a view I’ve come to appreciate more than I’d like to admit.

“I didn’t realize you take breaks from work.” My heart light, a flutter in my chest, I rise to my feet.

“Just wanted to see if you have any snacks tucked away.” A spark lights his eyes.

Approaching, he opens his arms the way he’s done so much lately. It’s become familiar and comforting in the days since our golf game. Stepping into his embrace feels like coming home. His arms encircle me in a sheltering warmth, and I allow myself to relish the closeness.

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