With that parting message, he slipped out of her office, left a card on Tracey’s desk as he passed, and disappeared through the lobby double doors and out to the elevators.

When she was sure he was gone, Raj dropped heavily into her chair. Her heart was beating fast, and her skin felt clammy.

“Hey,” Tracey said from the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Okay. First, Ajay at Bharat called. He asked if you could call him back.”

“Fine.”

“And your next call is on the line. Kia from Gen One. Do you want me to hold her off?”

“No.” Raj brushed her hair back over her shoulders and straightened in her chair. “No, I’ll take the call. Just tell her that I need a minute.”

Tracey nodded. “Will do, boss.” She shut the door behind her.

Raj looked at the blinking light on her desk comm unit and closed her eyes. If Ajay was still on the line, then maybe, just maybe, she’d talk to him. They’d pick at each other and she’d feel better, because he’d give her exactly what she needed. They hadn’t known each other for long, but she was sure he’d know what to say. Punjabi families could understand family pressure like hers. Ajay would understand. But not Kia. Not anyone else.

“Pull yourself together, Rajneet,” she muttered, even as she felt the tears burn in the back of her throat. Memories of her mother flashed in her mind like a merry-go-round that she couldn’t stop. Her hand shook as she reached for her cell phone that sat in a cradle at the corner of her desk and opened her photos. Her fingers hovered over the albums link for a second before she clicked on it and scrolled until she reached the last few pictures she’d taken in Punjab.

Her mother’s face stared back at her in one of her favorite images. Their cheeks were pressed together, and their smiles were almost mirror images of each other.

God, she looked so young, so hopeful.

And her mother. After spending years staring at that picture, Raj was sure that there was trepidation in those eyes.

Raj sniffed and brushed away the lone tear that escaped. She looked down at her wet fingertip, and it snapped her out of her fog-brained thoughts. What was she doing? She had work. She immediately closed her photo app, tossed her cell phone aside and dabbed at her eyes.

Pushing all thoughts about her brother, her mother, and old memories aside, she reached out with a steady hand and answered Kia’s call on her comm unit.

“Hello, Kia. How are you, darling?”

Chapter Eight
Ajay

Ajay’s phone buzzed as he stepped out of his private elevator. The name that flashed across the screen had him smiling.