“Know what?”

Saira smiled as she curled her legs under her on the sofa. “I thought the guy looked familiar when I came by that day, but yesterday he said he used to have a beard, and I remembered I’d seen pictures of him on Rish’s Facebook.”

“What? How does Ashraf’s sister know Nadim?”

“She doesn’t. She was posting some pictures of her cousin in London, and Nadim was in them. With that whole posh crowd out there. You know the ones. The swanky, trust fund kids? I heard at least three of them have been bailed out of some mess or another by their rich daddies. These people are shady. Look.” She handed Reena her phone with a picture on the screen.

There were three people standing together on a boat, each holding drinks out, as if toasting the camera. And yup, one of them was Nadim. With his longer hair and precision-trimmed beard. He wore white pants, white deck shoes, and a lavender polo shirt with the collar popped up. The two people he stood near seemed to be a couple, with their arms around each other’s waists. The woman squinted at the sun, and the man mugged for the camera in a pose reminiscent of those boys on the Jersey shore. Yuck. Behind them were several other people, talking and holding drinks.

It was the douchiest picture she’d ever seen. What the hell was Nadim—her foot-rubbing, bread-eating neighbor—doing with the likes of these people?

“Where is this?”

“Probably somewhere in Europe. There are loads of these pictures. I think that chick next to him is Rish’s cousin. Oh, and you’ll love this.” She pulled up another picture, similar to the first. Douchey Nadim and about ten other people. “That skinny one there?” She pointed to the woman standing next to him. “That’s Jasmine Shah. Remember how she had to be rescued by her father when her fiancé stranded her in Egypt? Can you imagine if Dad knew his new employee was partying with his rival’s daughter?”

Reena looked at the woman in question. Ridiculously leggy, with perfect highlighted hair in loose curls cascading halfway down her back. She wore a short flowy caftan and rose-gold aviator glasses, and looked exactly like she belonged on this golden yacht over turquoise waters. Reena tried not to judge based on appearances, but it was kind of hard not to when her father had been low-key blasting the entire Shah family for as long as Reena could remember. Okay, maybe low-key was a bit understated.

“You haven’t shown this to Dad, have you?”

“Nah, I wanted to show you first.”

Reena squinted at the picture. This wasn’t really the damning gossip Saira seemed to think it was. Reena knew Nadim had lived in London and came from a wealthy family. Hanging out with other wealthy people was expected.

But Dad wouldn’t see it that way. Partying like this? With the notorious playboy gang? Conspicuous displays of money? Drinking? Dad wouldn’t approve of anything he saw happening on this yacht, no matter how harmless it actually was.