And Jana? She was always taking off for far-flung places for one illustrious assignment after another. What if she took Rohan with her? And even if they stayed put in town, what—he’d start bringing Jana to Bollywood night? And, shudder, would Jana spend the night with him in the guest room so Rohan could have his meeting with Dad the next morning? Would Jana join Rohan in his criticism of Kamila’s cooking?

Forget Dad’s mental health—this could destroy Kamila’s own.

But Dad’s was, of course, more important. Those signs earlier—him putting himself down, alluding to the abuse Kamila had endured from her mother…Dad might be on the edge of a depressive episode. Kamila couldn’t risk anything upsetting him. Not now.

“Your family is strange, Kamila,” Tim said. “You guys take codependent to the next level.”

Asha laughed loudly. “You don’t know a lot of Indians, do you?”

Kamila could think of nothing intelligent to say, so she emphasized her previous point. “Rohan can’t be into Jana.”

“You’re probably right,” Tim said. “You said you all grew up together? He probably thinks of her like a sister. Like he thinks of you.”

“Rohan does not think of me as a sister.” Kamila frowned.

Asha shook her head. “No, he’s in his own category. He’s her Rohan.”

Kamila rubbed her temples. She was getting a headache. She was seriously wondering if this whole entertaining-friends hobby of hers was good for her self-care.

Darcy started barking then—loudly. “Darcy! What are you freaking out about?”

The door opened. Rohan was back. And he wasn’t alone.

Jana Suleiman was back in town. She was in Kamila’s house.

And Kamila’s dog was barking and growling at her as if the Antichrist herself had walked in.

See? Kamila’s dog had impeccable taste.

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Why. Was. Jana. Suleiman. Here.

A month early, or a week early, or whatever. She wasn’t supposed to be in Toronto. And she really wasn’t supposed to be at Kamila’s party.

And most of all, Rohan wasn’t supposed to have been the one who brought her here.

The golden child, returning to the world of mere mortals. The warmth and admiration on Rohan’s face made Kamila want to puke. Everyone’s faces—all her closest friends—basking in the glow of that flawless, dewy skin. Ugh. What kind of toner did Jana even use? The tears of sirens or something?

But Kamila needed to play along, too. This was a secret nemesis.

“Jana! What a surprise! You’re here!” She kissed both of Jana’s cheeks, ignoring the scent of honeysuckle and jasmine wafting from Jana the Great’s invisible pores. “How wonderful to see you. Come, let’s get you some biryani.”