Page 11 of Writing Mr. Right

“Uhh, Ziya?” Faye raises a brow. She points to Aashiq. “Who is this guy?”

I try to speak, but no sound comes out of me. While confusion is clear on their features, shock floods mine, because not only is Faye’s finger pointed in Aashiq’s direction, all three of them are staring rightathim. Meaning I’m not the only one who can see him.

When I stay silent, Aashiq speaks up instead. “I’m job-shadowing Ziya,” he explains. “To see if legal secretary work is something I want to do.” He puts his hand to his collarbone. “I’m Aashiq, by the way.”

I guess I should have spoken instead of Aashiq because, judging by the looks the three of them exchange, it’s a weird explanation. Still, they all offer him polite smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Aashiq,” Faye says. “I’m Faye.”

Sofia holds up her hand. “Sofia.”

“I’m Stella.” She shifts her focus to me. “I didn’t know we offered shadowing experiences at the firm.”

I clear my throat, pulling myself together. “Uh, yeah,” I say, because I can’t contradict him, and while it’s a strange explanation, at least it kind of works. “It’s something really new.” I glare at Aashiq from the corner of my eye. “I’m not sure it’s going to work out.”

Aashiq completely ignores the daggers I’m mentally shooting at him. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” he asks again. He gestures to me. “It’s Ziya’s birthday today, so it would be lovely to have more people joining us.”

My jaw drops as dread snakes my stomach, even while my coworkers all let out delighted gasps. “It’s your birthday, Ziya?” Stella gushes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Uhhh…” I stammer. “I didn’t want to make it a big deal?” I finish like I’m not even sure why I didn’t mention my birthday,when the real reason is because I don’t know these people well enough to share personal details, like my birthday, with them.

“We’d love to get lunch with you guys,” Sofia says. “We were just on our way out, too. We’ve wanted to invite you to join us in the past, Ziya, but you’re always so busy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a lunch break before,” Faye adds.

I gnash my teeth so hard I swear I can feel my molars crack. “Well, it’s a special day,” I offer. I peek at Aashiq, who nods once, which means I’m not getting out of this. I withhold my despaired sigh and grin at them. “And it’d be great to have you join us.”

“Perfect!” Stella grins. “I know an amazing sushi place that does freebies on your birthday. Let’s go there.”

They all walk toward the exit again. “Sounds good,” I allow in the best chipper tone I can manage. I glance at Aashiq again, and he simply beams at me as he follows my coworkers.

I ball my hands into fists. If it’s possible to throttle a hallucination, I’m going to be the person to find out.

5

The sushi place Stella recommended is only a couple of blocks away from the office building, so we decide to walk. As we stroll down the street, I try to mentally convey to Aashiq to hang back so I can talk to him in private. But to my annoyance, he’s a huge hit with Faye, Stella, and Sofia, who are all loudly laughing at one of his jokes. Just a couple of minutes ago they were eyeing him like he was an interloper, and now they’re all fawning over him. A few minutes ago, no one but me could evenseehim.

Aashiq peers over his shoulder at me, then tilts his head to the side, as if to ask why I’m not walking with their group. I narrow my eyes, then glance to my left to indicate to him to come to my side. Thankfully, he gets the hint, and he slows his pace. The other women keep walking ahead, engaged in their own conversation. By the time I catch up to him, anger flushes my cheeks. “I thought I was the only person who was able to see you,” I whisper.

“You were, at first,” he confirms. “But you are proving to be very stubborn, so I’ve had to manipulate things so others can see me.” He shrugs. “Seems like the only way to get you to do anything is peer pressure.”

My jaw drops. “That is not true.”

“It got you to agree to invite your coworkers to lunch, did it not?” he presses.

“That’s different. I was just being polite.”

“Because I peer-pressured you.”

“Whatever!” I pause, then point a finger at him. “Wait a second. You’re telling me this whole time you could have made it so anyone could see you, but you chose to keep yourself hidden so I looked like I was talking to nobody?”

He bites his bottom lip. “I didn’t reallychooseit, but yeah, I guess that’s what happened.”

“You made me look ridiculous!”

“Ziya, you’re a writer. You’re all a little bit ridiculous.” He pats my shoulder, then continues on his way.

I suck in my cheeks but follow him. Aashiq catches up to the others, and when we get to the restaurant, he holds the door open for all of us. I come up last, and as he steps forward and lets the door close behind us, he places his hand on my lower back. I startle as warmth abruptly seeps through my coat, but I don’t push him away as he ushers me to the area where the others are waiting to be seated. When he drops his hand, I can still feel the imprint of his palm against my clothes, like it’s burning a hole through the material.

Once we’re all seated, the fact that I’m close to none of my coworkers becomes extremely apparent. They’re talking to each other with ease, referencing inside jokes and other times they’ve hung out, telling a story about a waiter from the last time they were at this sushi place. The laughter that bursts from them is natural and full, and it makes me feel self-conscious.

---