She chuckled, nodding. “Seems so. You don’t have a comb-over or a secret after-dinner paan habit, and you know how to make chai.” She sunk lower until almost reclined on the sofa, both her feet on Nadim’s lap. Her third parental setup had been a man addicted to paan—a type of Indian chew which sometimes had psychedelic effects. The man’s teeth were permanently stained red. Nasty. “Then again, I don’t know you that well. If I wanted to know more I could ask around. The Ismaili community is small, wouldn’t take much.”
He stilled, hands clutching the arch of her foot. She opened her eyes and looked at him. His expression looked strange. Oddly frightened and vulnerable. Maybe hedidhave a secret addiction to legal Indian narcotics. “Don’t,” he said.
“What?”
“Don’t ask around about me.”
She smiled warmly, hoping to wipe that look of insecurity off his face. “Don’t worry, I was just kidding. I’m not much of a gossip.”
He looked back down at her feet, resuming the massage. “It’s just…I came here to start a new life. I didn’t expect to make a good friend here. I don’t want to let our pasts color this friendship, okay? That goes both ways.”
This time Reena stilled. Of course, she hadn’t expected or planned on this friendship when she met him. Back then she was thinking he would be eye candy in a conveniently close location. And once she found out about her parents’ intentions, she tried valiantly to avoid him. But now, they were friends. And she couldn’t deny he had a way of calming her like few could. She needed his friendship to cope with life right now.
But friendships were based on honesty and open communication. And she hid things from him, too. The loss of her job for one, but also her crippling self-doubt. And her past. What would he think if he knew about that scary time when she failed so miserably at life that she was drunk more than sober? Hell, she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to know her romantic history.
Her curiosity had piqued about what he was hiding, but unless she was willing to be open about her own past, she couldn’t expect to know everything about his.
“I like that. No past, no future. Our friendship is in the present, only,” she said, sinking back into the couch.
“Perfect,” he murmured, digging his thumbs into the ball of her foot. “I just…I’m really glad to have you as a friend.”
“Because I refuse to marry you, or because of my feet and bread?”
His hands kneaded as he winked at her.
She sighed in pleasure. “Don’t answer that,” she said. “I don’t care. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Reena woke up way too early Friday morning. She had planned to sleep in after her late-night foot rub, but her body hadn’t quite accustomed itself to unemployment yet. She got out of bed, figuring she’d get a head start on the drive north to Amira’s. But first, she needed to feed the starters.
Brian had been doing much better this week. She had reduced his feedings to one a day, and he had doubled in size like a trouper each time. But, of course, like Murphy’s Law, today he acted up again. He’d barely risen since yesterday’s feeding, in contrast to Sue, who’d tripled in size. Crap. She’d intended to feed the starters, then park them in the fridge for the weekend, where their growth would stay in stasis until Monday. But now that Brian was misbehaving again, she worried that missing a few days of feedings would mean the end of him forever.
But who could she trust to feed him for two days on such short notice?
She grabbed her last loaf of rye bread—this one a classic dark rye—and deliberately refrained from putting on shoes, socks, or slippers before knocking loudly on Nadim’s door.
He answered, wearing dress pants and a dress shirt, no tie, and a startled expression on his face.
“Reena. What’s wrong…”
“Sorry to bug you so early, but…you said we were friends, right?”
He looked down at the loaf of bread in her hand. He may have sneaked a glance lower at her feet, but she couldn’t be sure. “Of course.”
“Well, here.” She handed him the bread. “I’m not going to get through this, since I’m going away for the weekend. And…I have a favor to ask you. You’ll think it’s strange, but—”
He took the bread, and one eyebrow shot up. “Is it kinky?”
“No!” She shook her head in disbelief. “Jesus, do you have any social boundaries?”
He laughed. “No, not with my friends. What do you need?”
“I need someone to feed Brian while I’m away.”
“You have a pet? And his name is Brian?”
“No, Brian’s not a pet…He’s my…he’s a sourdough. Well, one of them.”
