“He’s a great guy, but you know they’re a tough crowd.”
“Yeah, I know.” Samira sighed, hoping she had enough false bravado for the both of them. Rory had been exceptionally quiet on the drive over, his folded arms and rigid posture telling her exactly how nervous he was.
“Speaking of tough crowds, does anyone know about you and Dev?”
Pia shushed her, casting a frantic glance around. “No, and I intend to keep it that way.”
Samira touched her arm. “Cuz, you’ve been separated for three weeks now. Word is going to get around.”
“I’m handling it.” Pia gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching as she jerked her thumb toward Rory, who was approaching them with the bouquet. “Besides, one crisis at a time, and right now, this guy doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.”
Since Pia had returned to work after the aborted week away with Dev at the alternative-therapies fertility getaway, she hadn’t wanted to talk about her marriage. Samira had stumbled on the truth—that her cousin had actually separated from Dev—by pure chance when she’d tried calling her house recently and Dev had answered, saying he’d leave Pia a message and was sorry they hadn’t seen each other but it was easier this way, with the two of them separated.
Samira had been shocked and called Pia on her cell straightaway. But Pia had been screening calls, and when they saw each other at work the next day, Pia had been brusque, all business. She’d confirmed the separation, saying it had been her way of jolting Dev into seeking professional help, but she didn’t want to talk about it.
Samira had respected her wishes, but it had been a long twenty-one days, and she intended on broaching the subject again at a better time.
“Ladies, ready to go in?”
“Are you?” Pia gave an exaggerated shudder before winking at Rory. “Because seriously, you have no idea what you’re up against in there.”
“I can handle it,” he said, but Samira heard an edge beneath his defiance. “Lead the way.”
“Don’t let them railroad you.” Samira squeezed his arm. “I’ve been facing this crowd since birth, and they still terrify me.”
“Not helping,” he muttered, shooting her an affectionate glance. “Besides, I charmed you easily enough, didn’t I? The rest of them should be putty in my hands.”
If only it were that easy. Not that anyone would be overtly rude, but she’d been privy to the sniggers and innuendos and gossip in the past, and she knew this time wouldn’t be any easier.
She’d bear the brunt of it, because she knew what to look for: the nuances in behavior, the subtle snubbing. Hopefully, Rory would be oblivious and she could tick this off her to-do list: “Introduce boyfriend and baby daddy to Indian community without him being publicly labeled a boy toy and her a cougar.”
Interestingly, the age difference didn’t matter to her anymore. The moment he’d committed to being a father, he’d instantly grown in her estimation. Considering his transient job and lifestyle, a young guy in his twenties could’ve pretended to care without wanting any involvement. But Rory wasn’t like that, and she hoped the crowd today saw what she saw: a kind, caring guy invested in them for the long haul.
Samira turned the doorknob. Unlocked, of course. Even a stranger would be admitted to an Indian party and welcomed unreservedly. Hospitality ranked up there with arranged marriages as par for the course.
Bhangra music blasted her eardrums as the pungent aroma of fenugreek assailed her nostrils and she cast a quick glance at Rory. Rather than appearing stunned, he sniffed appreciatively and grinned.
“It’s like stepping into a real Bollywood movie,” he said, gesturing her forward. “Lead the way, gorgeous.”
Pia made mock barfing sounds and strode ahead of them, leaving her to lean into Rory and murmur, “Thanks for doing this.”
“Hey, we’re a couple, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, but I could’ve eased you into this by meeting Mom first.”
“This will be fun.” He did a little jive, complete with gyrating hips. “I watched a Bollywood flick last night. I’m going to wow them.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’ve wowed me, and I’m the toughest crowd there is.”
His tender gaze told her more than words ever could. Neither of them had remotely mentioned the L word—it was too early for that—but his support and willingness to meet everybody went a long way to cementing what she already knew: she was more than halfway to falling for him.
“Samira, is that you? Why are you hiding in the dark?” Kushi stood