Page 12 of Cherry's Jubilee

“It ain’t happening. We didn’t exchange numbers. He said goodbye and left. That was it.” But he turned around and looked at me at least three times on his way out.

“Well, I’m going to need you to get in touch with him then,” Kirby says. “He can get us some damn work; otherwise, this business is going to fail before it begins.

“I’ll get right on that,” I say. I hug my sister and Kirby, take my plate of leftovers, and leave their apartment.

We didn’t leave the party until after eleven last night, and I’m exhausted. I yawn three times on my way to my apartment. When I get there, I put my food in the fridge and drop myself face-first onto my bed.

It’s a small apartment. Only one bedroom, a small kitchen, and one tiny bathroom. That’s all I need. Kirby and Solange have a two-bedroom, but we rent six other units in the building. It’s in a great location close to the train, so I see why Ashley and her mother were peeved that we got it. All the units are rented, and we collect great income. The building is paid off, and all we have to worry about are taxes and maintenance.

After toeing off my shoes, I climb under the covers and fall asleep, seeing light brown eyes, dark hair, and a firm jawline.

I hit ignore for the third time in the past hour. It’s the same number, and I’m certain it’s spam. It’s been calling me all week, and I’m sick of it. I don’t answer strange numbers on my personal phone. All I know is that it’s Friday, Ginger is coming over, and we’re going to find something on Netflix to binge while we eat takeout from our favorite Asian fusion place. She’s bringing the food, I’m mixing the drinks, and all is right with the world. As soon as she gets here, I’m shutting my phone off.

About half an hour later, Ginger walks in, holding the brown paper bag, and my mouth waters. I make my usual strong margarita while she surfs Netflix.

“So, you never heard from him?” she asks, and I know exactly who she’s talking about. She’s asked every day since Sunday, and I’ve told her the same thing.

“No, and I don’t want to talk about it. You know how full of shit men are.” She nods in agreement, and I bite my tongue, not saying how disappointed I’ve been about not hearing from him. I’d die before I’d admit that because I’m not the type of girl who thinks a relationship is a requirement to be happy. My single life is perfect. I have my best girlfriend, my sister, and the best brother-in-law in the world. My life is complete, and I don’t need the confines of a relationship, especially with a man who is probably very complicated.

“Girl, we should just marry each other,” Ginger says. “I can get on your benefits because yours are better than mine.” She props herself on my couch, and I bring the plates and drinks. We clink and just as I sit down, there’s a loud, obnoxious knock on my door. I know it’s not my sister or Kirby. They’re out, and they usually walk in. They wouldnot show me the courtesy of a knock. I only knock on their door now because I walked in on Kirby doing her doggy style a few months ago.

“Ugh,” I groan while I get up again. “Who is it?” I yell out with a bit of an attitude. “We already know Jesus!” Ginger snorts so hard that some of her drink sprays out of her mouth.

“It’s Daniel,” he says through the door.

I look over at Ginger, who is sitting there frozen with her drink halfway to her mouth.

“Who?” I ask, still unsure if I heard him right.

“Daniel Jubilee,” he says again. “Remember me? I work at the company that was stupid enough not to hire you.”

I stare at my best friend, and she gives me an I told you so stare. I look down at myself. I’m in Christmas leggings and a long, red shirt. It’s May, and I look a mess. I run a hand through my hair, and that’s the only decent thing about me. I straightened it Sunday night and it still looks good.

“Um, this is—” I stop, unable to think of what to say. I’d given up on the idea of ever seeing him again. I figured he was flirting and probably forgot about me the moment he left the party. Maybe he became hypnotized by Amira’s tits and forgot I existed.

Ginger shakes her head sadly at me and walks to the door. She opens it before I can push her away, and he walks in without an invitation.

He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt, and no tie. That five o’clock shadow is as perfect as it was Saturday when we met. He looks even more handsome today. And he’s taller than I remember, but I’m barefoot now. He also looks tired as he stands before me and looks down.

He shocks me when he cups my face and runs a thumb along my cheek.

“Hi,” he says softly. I close my eyes and feel his touch. I don’t remember the last time a man touched me like this, and I miss it. “You should answer your phone sometime,” he says.

“Oh, she barely answers whenIcall,” Ginger says. “And I’m the most important person in her life. And you’re right. Your company fucked up big time.”

“How did you get my number?” I ask. He never asked for it, and I sure as hell didn’t offer to give it to him. I know Ashley never would, but the man is loaded. If he wants my number, he can get it.

“You interviewed at my company. All I had to do was contact Human Resources,” he says.

“Then why hasn’t my girl heard from you in a week? You made a date for Sunday and today is Friday,” Ginger says. She even crosses her arms while she waits for his answer.

“I can explain,” he says. That’s when I notice that he has something under his arm. He pulls it out, and it’s a pink, stuffed pig. “I brought you the whole pig,” he says with a grin. He waves it in front of me, and I take it.

“I think that—”

“I’m going to help her get ready,” Ginger says, cutting off whatever I was going to say next. I guess I’m grateful because I have no idea what I was going to say.

Ginger wraps her hand around my wrist and pulls. She’s always been strong, so I’m halfway down the short hall into my tiny bedroom. She slams the door behind us, takes the stuffed pig, and throws it on the bed.

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