Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,75

because you are going to change the future of this state. Finally make us carbon neutral, do something to make housing fair and equitable, get every single person affordable health care. Don’t treat me like I’m some sort of PR hack who’s selling you cheap.”

Yash dragged his hand through his hair. It was overgrown. He’d had a haircut scheduled for the day of the shooting. Now he wanted to shave it off entirely, so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with not touching it the way Nisha and Ma wanted him not to.

“That’s not what I meant.” It’s exactly what he had said, though. “I’m sorry.” He started pacing the kitchen. Laughter wafted in from the living room. He stopped at the window and willed himself not to stare across those trees again. His own reflection sat between him and where he wanted to be. White shirt buttoned all the way to the top, overgrown hair, the beginnings of a stubble—something he’d never had in his life. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Are you and Naina having problems?” Rico asked.

That made a laugh burst out of Yash. A cloud of breath collected on the glass and obscured his reflection. There is no me and Naina. But he wasn’t at liberty to say those words. He shouldn’t even want to say those words. “Naina and I are . . . we’re fine. We’re always fine. That’s the whole point, right? We stay out of each other’s business and all my focus stays on my work, and she does the same.”

Of all things, that made Rico look panicked. Not like an employee, but like a family member afraid for Yash’s wellbeing. If the words Holy shit had a facial expression equivalent, Rico’s face right now was it. Not that Yash didn’t feel every bit of his panic.

Instead of articulating all the reasons why he thought what Yash had just said made no sense, Rico folded his arms across his chest and fixed Yash with his coach-before-the-final-game look. “Whatever is wrong, Raje, you need to fix it. Now. The debate is next week. We’re out of time.”

Before Yash could respond—not that he knew how—Ashna sauntered into the room.

“Are you guys washing down my entire kitchen?” She studied their expressions and kept her reaction discreetly contained. “All well?”

“Yeah,” both Yash and Rico grunted in unison. This did not at all help erase the worry on Ashna’s face.

Yash was so tired of carrying the burden of everyone’s worry. Tired of having everyone carry his burdens through their worry. He was fine. Or he would be soon. There was nothing to worry about.

“Is it okay if I leave? I’m . . . I’m . . .” He was exhausted, but he couldn’t say the word, because he had accomplished less this past week than he usually did in half a day and there was no good reason for him to feel like he was buried under a mountain and breathing through a straw.

Ashna came to him and stroked his arm. It should have soothed him. It didn’t. “Go.” She threw a speaking glance at Rico when he looked like he might say something. “Get some rest.”

Yash didn’t move. “I don’t want to go out and say bye to everyone and I don’t want Brandy to ride with me.”

Ashna pushed his hair off his forehead. Then she went out to the front and brought him his shoes. “Go out the back. I’ll send Brandy home. But listen, just get in your car and go home. Please. If you get hurt, you know I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

Yash pushed his feet into his shoes and dropped a kiss on her head. “You’re the best, Ashi.” Then, instead of making his way around the house, he walked straight through the thicket of woods to the gate in the fence and came out in the parking lot behind the restaurant.

Shutting the gate behind himself, he leaned back on it and looked up at the studio.

A crinkly face was pressed against the upstairs window. Chutney tilted up one ear when she noticed him standing there in the light of a lamppost. He waved at her, and the pug promptly started wailing in response. Before Yash could move, as he should have, India’s face appeared above Chutney’s. For a moment she just stood there, that long bare neck tilted at an angle in surprise, studying him, as he studied her. Then she pulled the window open. “Yash?” she