Hena changed into her sari. She was fumbling with the necklace’s clasp when there was a knock on the door.
“Good news,” Haris said when she let him in. “I was able to reach the sheriff.”
“The sheriff?” She raised her eyebrows.
“I don’t trust Milcheck. Figured I’d go above him and get some answers about what’s really going on. He’s there for another hour, so I’m going to catch him before he leaves.”
“Now?” she asked. “You’ll miss the wedding.”
“This is important. The sooner we can sort this out, the sooner you aren’t forced to stay in town against your wishes. Don’t worry, the station’s not far from here,” he assured her. “I let Khaled know I’ll be back as soon as I can. Save me a slice of cake?”
She promised him she would, and nodded to her necklace. “Do you mind helping me put this on?”
“Of course.”
They stood in front of the vanity, and his fingers brushedthe back of her neck as he clasped the necklace. She trailed her fingertips along the diamonds, the stones cool against her skin.
“Thanks, Haris.”
He lingered for a beat. “You look beautiful. Then again, you always do.”
Her heart skipped, but she kept her eyes on the mirror. “You’re sweet.”
“Just honest.”
She met his gaze in the reflection. He was looking at her. His eyes steady. Khala’s words came back to her:I see the way he looks at you.
She tried to push it away, but the words clung to her now. Her mother and Khala had gotten in her head. That was all. They didn’t know Haris like she did. He was always ready to help at a moment’s notice. That was the kind of friend he was. It was how he’d always been. That didn’t mean she should take advantage of him.
“I need to pay you.” The words tumbled out of her as she tried to find her footing.
“Pay me?” he repeated.
She turned to face him. “For your time. You’ve done all this work and we’ve never once talked about payment. That’s not right.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Haris—”
His hand lifted. Gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nasir left a mess in his wake,” he said. “If I can help you, I want to.”
Nasir did leave a mess, didn’t he? This right here, their shared memory of the man they both loved, was what bound them.
He promised to keep her posted. When he left, she pulled out her makeup bag and set it on the vanity.
She ran a finger along her neck where Haris’s hand had been a few moments earlier. The memory of the warmth in his eyes sent a flush to her cheeks.
Which made no sense. She didn’t see Haris that way. Not when he was so tied to Nasir. To the past. To this place. She couldn’t.
Could she?
There was a knock. Opening the door, she was met by a tall woman with a suitcase in tow. A makeup artist. Bride’s orders.
The woman layered Hena with foundation and concealer and eye shadow. When she was done, Hena looked at her reflection in the mirror: Red lips. Highlighted cheekbones. Thick lashes. A jolt of unease ran through her as the bride she had once been looked back at her.
She headed down to the main lobby. Lulu was in a bridal suite off to the side. Twenty minutes to go. The wedding planner invited Hena to wait with Lulu until it was time, but taking in the shaadi hall, the happy feeling bubbling inside her faded. Nasir’s parents were attending tonight.
Or at least, they might be.
