Rico’s face when she had called him self-centered and spoiled ran through her mind again. He’d hated that. His pride in being humble and fair had been one of the things she’d loved most about him. It was a lesson his soccer-legend father had taught him well. Then again, not well enough, because she couldn’t believe how badly he had behaved with DJ. That entire painfully awkward exchange had dredged up a deep sense of loss inside her.

Who was she kidding, that sense of loss had been her constant companion for twelve years now.

This would be so much easier if she full-out hated him.

That cause was not helped at all by the fact that the first thing he’d done after the shoot was apologize to DJ, with humility and fairness.

But only to DJ, making sure Ashna understood that it had nothing to do with her. You deserve my rudeness, only you, not DJ, that apology had said to her. That’s what she needed to remember, not his gentle touch in the depths of her panic.

The two men had practically fist-bumped, chest-bumped, and gone on their merry way as though being a prized ass were totally acceptable.

The car pulled into her driveway. Thankfully, her driver had picked up on her mood and left her alone. She still gave him a five-star rating on “fun conversation.” Whoever had put that on the driver survey deserved a special spot in hell.

Across the jacarandas behind the house, Curried Dreams stood silent and stately. As a girl, Ashna had imagined the thicket of trees that separated the house from the restaurant as an enchanted wood from the fantasy books she loved. One weekend she had come home from the Anchorage and found that Baba had gotten someone to hang a hammock between two trees for her to read in.

Baba had always been weird about the fact that their house wasn’t as grand as the Anchorage or Sagar Mahal. But Ashna loved the bungalow. She felt a kinship with it. Just like Ashna herself, it had been something Baba had tried to love, but it had fallen short of his expectations.

As Ashna stepped onto the porch, she noticed that the light was off. Ashna always left it on when she went out. Had the bulb blown out again? She’d just replaced it last month. Someone moved inside the door. Heart racing, Ashna dug in her handbag for her phone. She was about to dial 911 when the front door flew open.

Chapter Fifteen

Ashna screamed and dropped her phone.

“Good evening, beta!” Shobi said with all the calm of someone who hadn’t just had the living daylights scared out of her. “Or should I say good morning?”