I nodded. “So how is it that you want to be seen?” I asked.

“I want to be seen as a man willing to take risks. A man unafraid to pursue his dreams. That is the way I’ve lived my whole life . . . I’m sure Hannah has told you all about my many accomplishments.”

“She mentioned some, but I’m sure you would love to tell me about the rest of them.” I pursed my lips.

“I go after what I want, Leila,” he continued without missing a beat, completely mesmerized by the sound of his own voice. “When I want something, I work hard to get it. For example, when I wanted to start a Muslim Student Association on campus, I pursued it and BAM, I made it happen. And then I wanted to be president of the organization, so I campaigned and BAM, I got elected. We started with only a few members and by the time I graduated, BAM, we had over a hundred. I mean, a lot of people would not be able to accomplish these things, Leila, but I’m a go-getter. BAM, BAM, BAM, I get things done,” he said, slapping his palms on the table.

With every BAM, I jumped slightly in my chair. For someone claiming to be a go-getter, I really wished he would “go get” a new catchphrase. Normally, at this point, I would’ve been rushing toward the nearest exit. But there must have been something Hannah saw in him that made her think we would be good for each other. If anything, I told myself, I should be impressed by Omar’s ambition.

It reminded me of my father, who was the OG when it came to ambition. Every birthday, or family gathering, or Tuesday afternoon when he’d pick me up from school, he would tell me the story of how he came to America with sixty dollars in his pocket and a dream. I knew every detail of his story—how he stocked boxes in the back room of Mervyn’s and took engineering classes at night until he saved enough to buy a house in the suburbs. My father worked harder than anyone I knew, and my admiration for this quality in him was the reason #29: AMBITIOUS was on my list. I felt like I owed it to both Hannah and my father to see this thing out.

“So I gather your college years were quite successful,” I interjected, trying not to get clobbered by his heightened sense of self-confidence. “But what are some things you’ve been doing since graduating?”

“I’m currently a top agent at my father’s real estate firm. However”—he leaned in again—“my true passion is music.”

“Oh. What kind of music?” I asked, preparing myself for his response. I quickly ran through all the possibilities in my head—hip-hop, hard-core rap, straight-up country, even traditional mariachi—just so I wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

“Do you watch Bollywood movies?” he finally asked.

“Yes . . .” I said slowly, my heart gently fluttering.