At that moment Duncan’s truck pulled into the driveway. Amira didn’t even look up as her boyfriend got out and walked up the porch stairs.
“You sure, Ree?” Amira asked.
“She sure about what?” Duncan asked as he wedged himself on the couch between them. Reena shifted to make room for him.
Amira pointed at Reena. “Is she sure she doesn’t have a thing going on with her intended on the down-low.”
“I’d hope she’d notice if she was,” Duncan responded.
Another text came through.
Nadim:I asked your mother why she made three kinds of daal, and she said it was your fault.
Reena snorted.
Reena:You going to blame me or thank me for that?
Nadim:Thank you, of course.
Reena smiled, putting her phone away. “I’m not involved with Nadim.”
Amira, amazingly, sat quietly for a few moments before turning to Reena again. “Is he still all flirty? You think he’s into you?”
She bit her lip, thinking. “Don’t think so. I do think he’d still marry me if I agreed, though. Although, not because he likes me, or anything, but because of Dad.”
Amira frowned. “He’d marry you, but you don’t think he’s into you? That’s weird. This is all weird.”
The bagpipes rang again, but this time, when Reena checked her phone, it was Shayne texting that he was done editing the video.
He sent a password-protected link to take a look at it on a shared drive. Amira grabbed an iPad so they all could watch it together on the porch.
Despite the embarrassment of seeing herself all dolled up on the screen, curiosity kept Reena’s eyes glued to it. Would the edited clip be as great as it seemed when they’d filmed it?
Immediate answer: yes. And then some. This was night and day compared to the audition video. Shayne’s videography skills were more than above average, and Marley’s clothing, hair, and makeup took Reena’s usual look up several notches. And this time? It wasn’t just Nadim’s magnetic on-screen persona coming through, but both of theirs. Nadim and Reena. They matched. They looked like a team. A real couple, or at least the best of friends.
“That’s Nadim?” Amira asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” Reena said. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
Amira’s eyes narrowed at the screen. “I don’t know. He’s not what I expected. You said he talked like he went to an English private school?”
“He did. He does.”
Amira frowned. “I guess I expected him to be more formal, or something. Stuffy. This guy…I don’t know. He’s hot. I’d do him.”
“Hey!” Duncan said, glaring at his girlfriend. Duncan hadn’t quite gotten used to the fact that Amira and Reena pretty much had no filter with each other.
Amira rolled her eyes. “I meant I’d do him if I washer.”
“I told you he was hot, didn’t I?” Reena asked.
“You said he had an okay face and a hot body. But this guy, he’s easygoing, friendly, charming. Not the kind of person who needs to resort to an arranged marriage at the age of…how old is he?”
“Thirty-two,” Reena said.
“I see why you like him. He reminds me of Jamie Oliver,” Duncan added, head tilted in concentration. As if that was a selling point. Nigella Lawson and Heston Blumenthal were Reena’s preferred British celebrity chefs.
“Actually,” Duncan continued, “Jamie Oliver has that estuary English thing going. This guy sounds like Tom Hiddleston.”
