Not really. “Perhaps, eventually, but not right now.”
“Why not?”
“Let this mess cool down before I give Ma hope again.”
“Is that the only reason?”
I rolled my eyes. “I feel like we’re in high school and you’re trying to get me a prom date because the girl I want is taken.”
“So Liya is the woman you want?” He grinned hard.
I punched him in the arm, and he faked a serious injury by grabbing his biceps and cringing.
“I ask because there is a woman who’s interested in you. She just finished pharmacy school. Her parents are nice. And she goes to mandir every weekend with her family. We know her parents. You’ll be seeing her around a lot now. Her name is Kaajal, Mukesh Uncle’s youngest daughter. She’ll be at the baby shower, so you can check her out in person.”
My face heated, prickled with annoyance. “Did you give her any reason to think I’m at all interested?”
“No. She doesn’t know you know about her interest.”
“I’ll be cordial. That’s all I can promise. Rushing into considering someone else doesn’t sit right.” Not wanting to linger on marriage prospects, I looked down at my sneakers and asked, “Are you sure you’re not mad about Dad?”
He gripped my shoulder with one broad hand. He looked me in the eye and said in a stern, authoritative, and promising voice, “I will never lie to you. I have never and will never blame you. What happened was tragic, but it happened because Dad was a hero. He was a hero.”
I nodded once. Jahn gently slapped my cheek. “I gotta get home to check on my babies before work. We’ll see you at mandir this weekend?”
“Sure.”
I drove home and, once inside, peeled off sweaty clothes before reaching the bathroom, tossed them into the hamper, and took a quick shower. As I rushed through the morning routine, my thoughts drifted away from Dad. The assurance that Jahn didn’t lie about his feelings toward me, us, everything in regard to Dad, helped. Thoughts of Liya from our time sitting on the edge of her bathtub hit me instead. Was she a bath girl or a shower girl? Was she taking a shower at this very moment? Hopping on one foot and praying she wouldn’t slip?
As I rubbed soap down my sore chest, I imagined lather gliding down her body, across her smooth skin, bubbles forming and breaking, teasing glimpses of dewy flesh.
I groaned. What was wrong with me?
Shaking my head, I hurried out of the shower, dressed, and picked up breakfast. It wasn’t until I took up the entire space of Liya’s office doorway that I’d snapped back to reality. How did I get here? With not just my breakfast in hand, but hers as well?
She swiveled in her chair, set her pen down, and stared at me. “Um, do you have something for me?”
What was this strange feeling looming in my gut and swarming around my face? Was it…was it embarrassment?
She lowered her gaze to my hands. “Is that breakfast?” Her question was more of a sneer, and while most people’s embarrassment level would rise, mine fell flat.
I raised the bag of breakfast sandwiches and the drink carrier with two coffees. “You think I’d bring you breakfast? I just worked out, and I’ll need this to keep going in case I don’t get lunch, which I sometimes don’t.”
The briefest splash of red dotted her cheeks, but she rolled her eyes and clamped down what could’ve easily been a smirk.
“Unless you’re hungry. I might be willing to share.”
“I’m fine. Why are you here, then?” she asked.
“Checking in on your foot.”
“It’s okay. Should be back in heels next week.” Just as she finished her last word, her stomach growled like a starving bear. She bit down on her pink-stained lip.
“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”
“I can ask Wendy to get me something.”
I held the bag up, and she shook her head. Sighing, I sat down on a chair across from her and unloaded the sandwiches on her desk, pushing one wrapped meal and a cup toward her.
She inhaled the steam rising from the coffee without touching it. “I’m very picky about my coffee.”
“White chocolate peppermint latte, half skim, half soy, no whip, extra white chocolate sauce on the bottom and a drizzle on top.”
Her gaze shot up, watching me over the rim of the cup with a hint of incredulity. “How’d you know?”
I shrugged. “Maybe we like the same drinks.” Or maybe Wendy had told me the other day when she balanced three cups of coffee in the elevator.
Liya clamped her mouth shut but covered the warm cup with her petite hands. Her glossy red nails clicked against the sturdy paper cup, drowning out the muted sounds of others in the hallway beyond the open door.
“It’s okay,” I assured her.
“I don’t think you did anything to the coffee.”
“I mean it’s okay to smile because someone brought you your picky-ass latte.”
She took a sip. “We’re not friends, you know?”
“No one forgets being told they’re not friends,” I said teasingly, knowing full well she didn’t want to be friends but yet, here we were.
A smile crept across her lips, even though she tried hard to stop it.
Chapter Fourteen
Liya
Of the fifty reports I handed out today, only ten made it back to me. At the end of the day, I sat in my chair and tapped the arms. This wasn’t going to make the reports come any faster. I suspected many of my coworkers stayed on board for that lingering paycheck or dwindling hope that the company might survive while they looked for jobs elsewhere. I couldn’t blame them. I’d been perusing jobs boards, too. I was even considering a downgrade and taking that position in Dallas. But this type of poor work ethic would unravel the company faster.
I pushed away from my desk and headed to the labs. If they weren’t going to do their work, then I’d have to do it.
I donned a lab coat, avoided the janitors as they carefully and meticulously cleaned around me, and worked. I worked like a kid right out of college, desperate to prove myself.
With goggles pressed to my face and my hand cramping from delicately moving and mixing tiny portions of chemicals, a delicious smell floated through the air.
My stomach rumbled, and I groaned, “Dan…how many times do I have to tell you to keep your food away from the labs? That’s just disgusting, you know?”
“I think Dan is already gone,” a rich voice replied.
I almost dropped the beaker and whipped my head around. Jay stood in the doorway. He held up two white paper bags, and the aroma shocked my senses for a second.
We stared at each other for a moment. He wasn’t going to back down, and I didn’t know how to respond. We weren’t friends. But I was hungry.
Eventually, I caved and removed my goggles and lab coat, and walked to the door to hang them on the hooks. Jay didn’t back up, only lowered his hands and looked down at me.
The building was cold with its industrial-strength air conditioner, but the labs were even chillier. Yet, in this particular moment, we might as well have been outside in the muggy, warm night because Jay’s body heat invaded me.