Then she had stopped coming home, and when she finally saw him again, after three years of tense silence, she barely recognized her baby brother—the carefree twelve-year-old boy he had been the last time they’d met replaced by an intense teenager who towered over her, a coolness in his eyes, as if he didn’t quite trust her not to disappear on him again.
“I ate already,” Esa said now. He turned to Tom and was about to nod politely when he did a double take. “Cooke with Tom!” her brother said in a different voice. “I follow you!”
The men dapped, Esa nearly levitating with excitement, while Sameera looked on enviously.
“I’ve got a channel on YouTube, too, but only have, like, fifty subscribers. How did you grow your audience? What’s the ‘secret sauce’ to going viral?” Esa grinned at his joke.
“I didn’t know you had a YouTube channel,” Sameera said. “What is it? I want to subscribe, too.”
“You wouldn’t like it. It’s fun,” Esa said, not even looking at her.
Tom threw her a sympathetic glance before answering Esa. “Honestly, I got lucky. A few of my chef friends shared my stuff, and the audience grew steadily.” He glanced over at Sameera. “Your sister is the real superstar. She’s a cool lawyer.”
Esa barely glanced at his sister. “How often do you do paid partnerships? Are you going to retire from catering and create content full-time? You have to tell me what Andy Shaikh is really like.”
“Andy is an acquired taste, but I consider him my brother,” Tom said with a smile. “I’ve known the guy since undergrad. We were roommates at Georgia Tech.”
“Saywallahi,” Esa said, eyes shining with excitement.
“It’s true. I knew Andy before he becametheAndy Shaikh. Though, unlike him, I never finished college. I dropped out during my third year,” Tom said.
Esa held out his hand for a high five, which Tom returned reluctantly. “Not sure I’d recommend that path,” he added. “My dad cut me off. Didn’t talk to me for a whole year.”
Esa looked from Sameera to Tom. “You two have so much in common. Though Sameera was the one who cut us off.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Sameera said, embarrassed.
Her brother shrugged. “That’s what it felt like to me.”
There was an awkward beat of silence, and Tom cleared his throat. “I’ve got a bit of time. If you like, we can film a video together now,” he offered Esa, and her little brother’s eyes lit up.
“Really? That would be awesome! Afterward, can you introduce me to Andy?”
“Not a chance,” Tom said, laughing.
Within minutes they were ready: Tom propped his phone up using a few books, and Esa’s oversize ring light provided flattering illumination. She watched, bemused, as Tom and Esa immediately started to riff, joking and teasing, and then Tom pulled her into the conversation.
“We’re making my friend Sameera’s favorite snack: samosas. I think it’s my new favorite, too.”
“I’m surprised. The first time I met you, Tom, you were making samosas all wrong,” she joked. Surprise and delight flared in Tom’s eyes at her banter, warming her. Had he assumed she would freeze in front of the camera or play the silent sidekick? If so, it was fun to surprise him.
“I don’t know about that. No one else complained,” he said, playing along.
She pretended to think. “I wonder why. Maybe because I was the only desi girl in that crowd?”
Tom laughed, accepting her point. “In my defense, wonton wrappings make a great samosa shell, and they’re easy to find in the grocery store.”
Sameera put a hand on her heart and faked a look of outrage. “Tom Cooke, nobody gets into the samosa game because it’seasy.Real desi cooking is not for the faint of heart.”
Tom grinned at her. “What do you think of my second attempt?”
She considered, then shot a sly smile at the camera. “From a rating of one to ten, with ten being aunty level, and one being those faux-samosas you made last time, I’d give these ...” She reached out and took a bite of the jalapeño-paneer samosa, chewing thoughtfully. “A seven.”
Tom made a face at the camera. “You’re supposed to help me get more customers, Sameera. Not damn me with faint praise.”
“Seventy percent is passable,” she corrected. “And that’s only because your pastry is on point. Flaky and homemade, just like Mom intended.”
Tom laughed and turned to face the camera. “While I go work on my recipe, Esa, why don’t you share your handle with our viewers so they can give you a follow?”
