He grinned with such self-satisfaction she couldn’t tell if it was because he’d made her explain herself like a flustered girl or because he was just thrilled with himself in general. “I thought you’d be happy that I’m agreeing with you. It would be totes wrong for me to take the funding without a project. But I do have a project.”

“Well . . . spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

His brows drew together and his lips pursed, making his dimples dig deep. “Why would I tell you if you’re already dismissing it? Actually, even you couldn’t dismiss this. Even you have to agree that homelessness is one of our greatest challenges in California.”

Her groan came from her toes and burst forth with all the force of someone who really needed a break. Please, could she please catch a break? “What does Hari have to do with homelessness?”

“Well, I’m not at liberty to tell you. Actually, I need you to promise not to tell anyone about this conversation.”

Who did he think she was close enough to that she could tell them she’d talked to Vansh—while he was half-naked—about that asswipe Mehta holding her funding over her head like a bone for a dog? It was too humiliating to share even with herself.

“I’m hardly going to run around telling people you were able to steal my endowment so easily. Do you have any idea how infuriating this is? Not to mention humiliating.”

“Do you have any idea how condescending you’re being right now? You’re treating me like a child and I don’t appreciate it.”

He was a damn child. “Have you heard of Emma?”

“DJ’s sister Emma Caine? The hot artist?” He disappeared for a second, then came back with jeans on and finished zipping them up. Why on earth did he think their relationship was close enough for him to be pulling on clothes in front of her?

“No, it’s a book. The one DJ’s sister was named after.” Trisha’s boyfriend DJ’s name was Darcy James. And his sister’s name was Emma. Evidently their mother had been a big Jane Austen fan. “By Jane Austen.”

“Right, I remember Emma mentioning that. Isn’t Jane Austen that Darcy chick? Isn’t he the one that Brit actor played who all the aunties were gaga over? Colin Farrell?”

Naina did it: she rubbed her hand across her face like someone who needed to erase this entire conversation from existence. “So . . . in the book Emma—which has nothing to do with Darcy, who is from Pride and Prejudice—Emma is an overindulged, albeit well-meaning, brat who is looking for matchmaking projects so she can feel good about herself while filling all that empty time she has on her overprivileged hands.”