When the first golden brown pastry emerged from the fryer, disbelief, maybe even pride, shone in Ashna’s eyes.

Rico placed the churro on a paper towel, gobsmacked that he’d actually made those.

“You did it,” she said. Something about her smile struck terror in his heart. It was too many things: surprise, even a spark of victory, and God help him, joy. For all her secrets, there was too much he saw. It was this dance that had gotten him into this situation in the first place. Too much knowing. Too much needing to know. He had to find a way to stop it. Because she would always hide. It was what she needed to do. And he was no longer the man who didn’t care what price he had to pay for her to let him in.

Chapter Eighteen

Barely two weeks into the show and there was a wait to get into Curried Dreams.

The overflowing parking lot at lunchtime, the unique buzz of conversation in a full restaurant, people crowding the waiting area, all of it made Ashna feel too close to another time. She almost made her way to Baba’s office to check up on him, and that thought made the walk-in pantry spin around her. She leaned back and rested her head against the wall.

Are you seeing this, Baba? I didn’t fail you. I am not just like my mother.

The knot in her throat that made it hard to breathe would go away in a second. She took long, stretchy breaths. Why did you have to ruin everything, Rico?

Because that’s exactly what he had done. He’d ruined everything. By being here. By knowing exactly what to do. By turning out those stupid perfect churros.

He loves me, Baba.

Boys like that only want one thing. In his case two. And neither one of those has anything to do with loving you.

Wilfrieda walked into the pantry and stopped short when she saw Ashna. “Sorry, boss, didn’t realize you were in here.”

Ashna almost turned away and pretended to look for something.

You’re not eighteen anymore. When does the hiding stop?

I’m not hiding!

She was totally hiding.

God, she hated Frederico Silva.

“I needed a moment,” she said to Wilfrieda, who looked like she had no idea what to do with herself in the face of her always-in-control boss with tears streaking her cheeks.

Ashna leaned over and wiped her cheeks on her smock. All these years she’d channeled Shobi to keep the tears away. She couldn’t let seeing her mother tear up put a crack in that dam. “You’ve been doing great with the rush. Thank you.”

Wilfrieda and Khalid were handling things fabulously, and the four more line chefs and extra waitstaff from DJ’s network were a godsend.