Ajay slid his hand across the scarred vinyl-top table, palm up. She looked down at it and then back up at his face, amused. Once her fingers were locked in his hold, he asked the question that had been plaguing him since the gala.

“Did you ever have feelings for Robert?”

She shook her head. “We had a mutually beneficial arrangement. I hated being a cliché, a stereotype of an Indian woman who married for a green card. But I had my reasons, and I was going to make it with or without Robert. He just ensured that my family wouldn’t interfere.”

“I’m not one to judge,” Ajay said. “People think that getting a green card is as easy as getting a driver’s license. So many of our international employees who transfer end up having to wait fifteen years or more for their green cards.”

“It doesn’t stop people from making crass assumptions,” Raj said. “That’s why Robert and I decided to live together, to pretend we were happily married, while remaining discreet about the nature of our relationship.”

“Any rumors now that you’re getting divorced?”

“I’ve heard a few. Most are off base, and the rest are harmless. As long as they don’t affect my reputation and my company, I couldn’t care less about rumors.”

Two cups of steaming chai were placed in front of them. Ajay watched the unfiltered delight brighten Raj’s expression before she bracketed her hands around the mug. She leaned down to smell it, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. The joy on her face made his heart clench.

“Tell me about RKH. When and how did you come up with the idea?”

Raj shrugged one delicate shoulder. “A mix of listening to my father complain about security breaches and a class project in my senior year. After I married Robert, his grandmother, the only woman who liked me, became a mentor. She worked for decades in the Douglass family company, and she helped me with contacts, connections, and developing a little bit of polish that I needed, before she passed away a few years ago.”

“Why do you think you got along so well?”

Raj shrugged. “She was an immigrant, too. Granted, Greece isn’t exactly the same as India, but similar enough that we both enjoyed each other’s company at all mandatory family get-togethers. She was always laughing and had a horde of pets. She is the reason I started working with the shelters in Manhattan. When she died, most of her money went to those shelters, and her last remaining pet, a sweet old hound, was taken in by one of her nephews.”

“But you wanted her hound?”

“Of course,” she said, a wistful expression on her face. “But Robert has an allergy. Thankfully, that’s no longer a barrier.”

Before he could second-guess himself, he gripped both cups and slid them to the side.

“What are you—”