Quarantine Romance: Multicultural Romance During a Pandemic Read online

  I climbed out of the shower, towelled myself off, and got dressed. My hair could wait for the summer heat to do the thing. Turning on a hairdryer might kill me, and that was with the air conditioner on.

  “I don't know if you're trying to eat healthy or not, but I think I need a cake," I said as I returned to my room.

  Gulya showed me a crazy coat hanger with all my masks on it. "You got a collection."

  "I was trying to sell them. It seems to be working, but not fast enough." I inspected the hanger closer. Looked like driftwood. "Now I need to get a new sewing machine, too, if I want to keep doing this."

  "Great. Let's go shopping."

  "I think your fiancé is going to kill me if I let you go out in public. You two are still engaged, right? Or engaged again."

  "We didn't have an engagement the first time." She looked me up and down. "You can't wear jeans in this weather. Where's that cute blue dress?"

  "I'm not wearing that." I probably would never be able to even look at it without remembering Matt.

  Gulya nodded. "Give me five minutes. Do your makeup and all that."

  She went for the door, but as she tried to turn sideways to slip through, her belly got stuck. She mumbled something about muscle memory and left the room.

  I sat on the bed and stared at my purse. Screw makeup. Screw getting dressed up. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

  No tears.

  Absolutely no crying over that asshole. Why had I thought he would be different?

  I lay down and stared at the ceiling. Two attempts at this whole love thing, and both times, I got played. Was there something wrong with me?

  Gulya returned, getting through the door with more care this time. "I thought you were doing your makeup."

  "What's the point?"

  She sat down next to me. "I don't know. To remind yourself that you're hot. To get a few guys to trip over their own feet? To do something." She put a ridiculously short skirt and top on the bed and lay down next to me. "Want to talk about him?"

  "I don't want to even think about him, but I can't help myself. His face just keeps popping up in my head."

  She hummed. "That's how it was when Ed filed for divorce. I couldn't decide if I wanted to strangle him or kiss him."

  "Why would he do it?" Why would he sleep with his ex when he had me right there? Not like I was holding out.

  "It's a long story. Point is, you need a distraction. And then we're going to torture Ed into helping you with a business plan and advertising." She tried to get off the bed but ended up flailing her arms like a turtle that fell on its shell. "Stupid belly."

  I helped her up. "I don't even know how you're moving anymore. Isn't it a little hard?"

  "Sometimes." She shoved the clothes into my hands. "Stop talking. Start getting ready. I want a triple chocolate cake, and I want to help you with those masks, so we're going sewing machine shopping. If I don't find something to do, I'll die of boredom."

  "Fine. But only for shopping. I'm not interested in men." Dying an old maid would be better than going through this for the third time. "So, how did you get Ed back?"

  "Will you just go change already? We'll talk after we get something sweet to eat."

  Chapter 26

  Matt

  THE PATCH OF GRASS IN FRONT of the house turned to mud as I walked back and forth over it. Where was the package?

  Who was I kidding? Zamira probably wouldn't send me the mask. It's not like she wouldn't recognize the address. She might've also forgotten that she needed to check on her sales.

  Finally, the mailman pulled up onto my driveway. Only a letter and a flimsy plastic package in his hands.

  "Hi. How are you settling in?" he asked.

  "Great. The town is gorgeous." I took the mail from him and checked the printed address. Miami, Florida. This couldn't be from Zamira. She had to be in New York now. I mumbled my thanks and went inside.

  Now what? I had to find some way to talk to her.

  I grabbed a knife and opened the package. Whatever it was needed to grow the correct address. A mask fell out. I double-checked the envelope. Miami, Florida. Shit. That would be a much longer drive than I had thought.

  Not wasting another minute, I grabbed my bag, threw it in the car, and got on the road. I could still make it in a day. The clock on my dashboard laughed at me. Almost noon already. I'd get there tomorrow morning at the earliest.

  Oh, damn, did they shut down state borders? I had New York licence plates. No one wanted New Yorkers in their backyard right now. What if they made me quarantine for two weeks? I couldn't wait that long to see Zamira.

  But if I turned around now, I wouldn't see her at all. No way I could do that.

  Somehow, I managed to keep driving for ten hours before finally pulling into a rest area. Only a short stop. Bathroom. Coffee. Food.

  Going just over the speed limit didn't do enough to make this drive shorter. I had saved an hour at most, but I couldn't keep pushing it. Besides, I couldn't come knocking on her door in the middle of the night.

  I checked my GPS. If I slept in the car for a couple of hours, then drove the last four, I could make it there by nine in the morning.

  This wasn't even another full night of sleep without my girl. I could do this. Just a little more.

  What if she wouldn't listen to me?

  What was I thinking? I couldn't just give up on us. I was more than halfway there. A few more hours, and I could touch her.

  Just a little more.

  Chapter 27

  Zamira

  NOT WANTING TO MAKE TOO MUCH noise at this hour, I started cutting up the fabric for the masks I had to make that day. Somehow, Ed had made them sell so fast that I had a hard time keeping up with the production. Gulya had volunteered to slap mailing labels on everything and even helped me with sewing, but I didn’t want to rely on her too heavily.

  How odd. I had fewer problems relying on Matt than on my own sister. Just a bad judge of character, that was all. Why couldn’t I just stop thinking about him?

  My eyes itched. Just the lack of sleep. Definitely no unshed tears here. I only needed a cup of coffee, and I could go back to work.

  Careful not to wake the whole house up, I went to the kitchen. As I turned the coffee maker on, I caught a glimpse of the familiar blond head. Just my idiotic brain, supplying me with illusions.

  I turned to the front door that I could barely see from here, and there he was again. In the flesh. What the hell?

  He waved to me. I turned away and pretended I hadn’t seen him. But he was right there. Why? Would he cause a scene? The last thing I wanted was a scene first thing in the morning.

  The door to Gulya and Ed’s room opened, and Ed strolled out, then stopped, turned to the door and oh, God, he was going to open it.

  “Wait. Don’t open.”

  He looked at me like I grew an extra head. “Why not?”

  “It’s… umm…” What was I supposed to say? “He’s from New York. You don’t want to expose Gulya to that.” Damn it. I wasn’t making it any better. “I’ll talk to him.”

  I ran to the door and slipped out, then closed it behind me and held the handle like I was actually worried that Matt might have cooties that would crawl into the house.

  “Thank God,” Matt said and took a step closer.

  I lifted my free hand to stop him. Or touch him. Damn it. I definitely needed to never touch him again. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  He lifted an empty mailing package Ed had gotten for me to use a couple of days earlier. “Learned this trick from Lauren.”

  Right. Lauren.

  “Leave. I don’t want to see you.”

  “Wait. Please, let me explain. I don’t know what Lauren said to you, but whatever it was, it was a lie.”

  “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.”

  He thrust some paper toward me. I flung the door open and shut it behind me, leaving him on the other side.


  “Are you okay?” Ed asked.

  “Yes.”

  I glanced at Matt, who just stood there, not moving until he noticed Ed. His eyes went wide.

  “This is the first time someone looks surprised to see me in my own house,” Ed said.

  “Sorry. I didn’t think he’d look for me here.” I never would’ve looked for me here. Stupid masks. I should’ve gotten a P.O. box, like Ed had told me to.

  Gulya stumbled out of her bedroom, hair sticking out in every direction. “Who’s that?”

  “That’s Mr. My Ex Is a Psycho But I’ll Sleep With Her Anyway.”

  Gulya hummed as she walked to the kitchen. “Never trust guys who say their ex is a psycho.”

  “What if that’s true, though?” Ed asked.

  “It’s never true.” Gulya grabbed food, tea and pulled me away from the door and up the stairs. “Let him stand there all day, if he feels like it. We have a business to run.”

  Easier said than done. Sure, I could snack and start up the sewing machine, but my mind kept going back to Matt’s face. Was he still there?

  I glanced out the window. His car was parked next to the house, and he sat inside, doing something on his phone. Ed came over and knocked on the window.

  “Your fiancé is up to something,” I said.

  “Men.” Gulya didn’t even look up from the computer. “You got twenty-seven sales last night.”

  “He’s not going to let him in, is he?”

  “If he does, we can always go back out and get more triple chocolate cake.”

  There was that. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

  Gulya finally pulled away from the screen. “He’s cute but not cute enough to forget about naked girls in your backyard.”

  “Just one naked girl. And she wasn’t completely naked. Just in her underwear.”

  Gulya gave me the look. She was right. Those excuses were pathetic.

  I looked out the window again. Ed must’ve gone inside, but Matt was still out there. Maybe I should talk to him, just so he would leave already. Except that I would probably believe whatever crazy excuse he had.

  A florist’s truck pulled up, and a man with a giant basket of flowers came out. Matt took it from him and returned to the door. The bell rang.

  “It’s Matt with flowers.” I kept my feet firmly planted. No way would I go to open the door.

  “Should’ve brought a cake instead. I’d totally let him in for that,” Gulya said.

  “Good to know you’d sell me out for sweets.” Why wasn’t he ringing again?

  Footsteps thumped on the staircase, but they were lighter than Matt’s. Ed’s face and the basket of blue and purple flowers appeared in the door. “Delivery for Zamira.”

  Gulya sprung to her feet. “I’ll toss them out the window. Maybe I can even hit him.”

  “Nope.” Ed maneuvered around Gulya and deposited the basket in front of me. “Check the card.”

  There was no card. It was a photocopy of some document. Official looking thing. “What is this?”

  “Just read it, okay?” Ed answered.

  I did. Then read it again. A restraining order? Against Lauren. Oh. “Excuse me.”

  I walked to the front door and peeked out. Matt was sitting on the steps, staring into the distance. Slowly, as if worried I’d spook him, I opened the door.

  Matt sprung to his feet. “Did you read it?”

  “Yes.” I gave the copy of the restraining order back to him. “So, what was she doing in our backyard?”

  “Stalking me. She ordered one of your masks to get the address.”

  “You were shirtless.”

  Matt frowned as he looked at his shirt. “Oh, right, because I threw her in the pond and then she tackled me. My shirt was covered in mud.”

  “That’s why she was naked?”

  “Naked?” Matt cringed. “Sorry. I should’ve made sure she left. I was in such a hurry to get the restraining order that I didn’t even stop to think. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, that was stupid.” Running all the way here because of a stalerish ex. Yeay me.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He touched my hand. “So, are we good? Can we go back now? Or we can stay in Florida. I’m cool with that.”

  I laughed and hugged him. All the pain bubbled up, ripping at my throat.

  “Hey, come on.” He pressed me to his chest and kissed my hair. “I love you, gorgeous. You’re all I can think about these days. We’ll figure this out, right?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run like an idiot.”

  “I love you,” he whispered against my lips before crushing them in a searing kiss.

  The world stopped, realigned, then began to spin around us.

  “I love you too.” I grabbed onto his shirt and refused to let go, kissing him again and again, not caring about anything that might happen next.