Melbourne had some high-end suburbs—Toorak, South Yarra, Malvern, Armadale—and considering the combined salaries of a physical therapist and TV reality show host, Samira and her husband, Rory, could’ve chosen to live pretty much anywhere. Instead, they resided in this modest, modern town house a few streets back from the cultural hub of Dandenong, where people of many nations mingled amidst the shops and marketplace. Considering their place was only one main road away from Kushi, Samira’s mother, he figured regular free child-minding for their son, Ron, was part of the attraction.
He hadn’t seen the happy couple for two months, discounting Nishi and Arun’s wedding. Then again, he hadn’t really been focused on his friends at that function, what with his hands—and face—full of a feisty food stylist and cream, respectively.
He hadn’t crossed paths with Harper after he’d spied her looking so forlorn at the back of the hall, and he wanted to apologize again, this time saying it with flowers or chocolates. After a little reconnaissance via the Indian aunties, who knew everything about everyone, he garnered that while Harper was Nishi’s best friend, she also knew Pia and Samira well. He would’ve asked Arun, but the bozo was on his honeymoon with his new wife, hence his impromptu visit to another happy couple.
He knocked on the door and it opened a moment later, revealing a disheveled Rory holding a finger to his lips on the other side.
“Hey, mate, come in, but keep it quiet. Ronnie’s only just gone down for a nap, finally.” Rory rolled his eyes and dragged a hand through his messy hair. “Sleepless night with young Ronald and I’m knackered.”
“You look it,” Manny said, stepping inside and slapping Rory on the back. “Fatherhood suits you, mate. You look like you could do with a shave, a haircut, and a two-week nap.”
“You look like shit too but please, come in anyway.”
They chuckled softly, and after closing the door, Manny followed Rory toward the back of the house, where the family spent most of their time in a sun-filled rumpus room littered with baby paraphernalia, everything from early learning books to brightly colored blocks.
“Can I get you a beer?”
Manny shook his head. “I’m on call later, but you go ahead.”
“Nah, beer will really send me to sleep.” While Rory’s eyes did indeed appear blurry from sleep deprivation, Manny knew the exact second Samira entered the room, because her husband’s eyes lit up.
Manny turned to see Samira looking just as weary as Rory but sporting a glow best worn by a woman besotted with her man.
“Hey, Manny, good to see you.” She crossed the room and gave him a quick hug, before making a beeline for Rory and kissing him full on the mouth.
“Man, you two make me sick with all this mushy, gushy stuff.”
“You’re just jealous I chose this magnificent specimen of manhood over Dr. Dickhead,” Samira deadpanned, and the three of them burst out laughing.
When they’d first met, Samira’s matchmaking Indian mother had been determined to see her only child marry an Indian man, though an Anglo-Indian doctor would suffice. And while Manny never had a genuine spark with the lovely physical therapist, Samira and Rory were a fiery conflagration ready to set alight. Samira had lied to Rory about marrying him according to her mother’s wishes to drive the poor schmuck away deliberately, hence Rory’s jealousy and nickname for him, which the happy couple had let slip one night when the three of them were hanging out at a local Indian vegetarian restaurant.
“I can’t help it if you have exceedingly poor taste in men,” Manny said, with an offhand shrug. “I’ll have you know some women would much prefer brains over brawn.”
Rory bore a startling resemblance to Chris Hemsworth and had turned women’s heads around the country as the host of the newest reality show Renegades. The guy was smart too, considering he held an economics major, but they had fun ribbing each other.
“And some women prefer a guy with both,” Rory drawled, cuddling Samira close, and the three of them laughed again.
“Take a seat.” Samira waved at a chair. “What brings you by? We haven’t seen you in ages.”
“We saw him at the wedding yesterday,” Rory said. “Two doc sightings in a week is two too many.”
Manny flipped him the finger and Rory grinned.
“I’m actually heading to Auckland for a conference and thought I’d stop by because it’s been too long since we hung out.”
Samira studied him, her shrewd glance not missing a trick. “This is about Harper, isn’t it?”
Dammit, sprung.
Feigning nonchalance, he said, “This is about friends who are too busy with their baby to make time for their other friend, so said other friend has to make a trip from the city all the way out to Dandenong.”
“It’s thirty minutes, you dufus, not a plane trip.” Samira sank into the sofa next to Rory. “And cut the BS. I saw you checking out Harper at the wedding.”
And by the cunning glint in her eyes, Samira knew a whole lot more.
“Did Harper tell you what happened?”
“About what?” Samira’s eyes widened in faux innocence, and Manny knew he was busted.
“I acted like a jackass, and though I’ve apologized I want to send her something special.”
“If you think I’m giving you her home address, you’ve got rocks in your head.” She tapped her temple for emphasis. “Besides, Harper’s not one of your bimbos you can screw around with.”
“Harsh, but true,” Rory added, with a grin.
“Do you two ever have a nice word to say about me?”
“No,” Samira and Rory answered in unison, and laughed.
“Pathetic,” Manny muttered, and Samira finally took pity on him.
“Look, the best I can do is give her your number. I’ll explain what you want to do, and it’s up to her whether she wants the contact or not.”
“Fine.” He huffed out a breath. It wasn’t though, because he had acted like an ass from the moment he’d insulted her food presentation to kissing her like a caveman unable to control his impulses, and he seriously doubted he’d hear from the lovely Harper even after Samira gave her his number.
“Mate, take it from an expert in being hung up on a woman: there’s nothing you can do unless she wants you to.” Rory gazed at his wife in open adoration, and for a fleeting moment Manny wondered what it would be like to love a woman that much.
Before sending a silent prayer heavenward that he’d never find out.
As for being hung up on Harper, no way. It wasn’t his style.