First Comes Like (Modern Love #3) - Alisha Rai Page 0,93

out right now.”

Ayesha was right. She didn’t need the list.

They came to a stop outside the door, and Farzana turned to face them. She fixed her collar. “Do I look okay?” Her whisper was fierce. “I don’t want to risk meeting Shweta looking too rumpled.”

Jia raised an eyebrow. If she didn’t know better, she’d think her unflappable mother was a little starstruck. “You look pretty, MashAllah.”

Mohammad cleared his throat and bared his teeth. “I don’t have any stuck lettuce, do I? I knew I shouldn’t have had a salad for lunch.”

Was her dad starstruck too? “You’re fine, Dad.”

Their mother considered her husband’s teeth with more care. “Yes, you’re good.” Farzana straightened her shoulders. “Best behavior, girls.”

She and Ayesha exchanged a glance. “Um, can someone press that doorbell?” Jia suggested.

Farzana jumped. “Yes, I shall.”

Jia shoved her hands into the pockets of her dress to keep from picking at her nails. Her dress was modest enough for their mom, but it was also a bright sunshine yellow. The color gave her courage, and she needed it for this, meeting her fake fiancé’s world-famous grandmother.

The door opened, and they were greeted by a smiling woman in plain clothes. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Mohammad’s voice went up and he cleared his throat. “I am Dr. Ahmed.”

The woman inclined her head and stepped aside. “Come,” she said, and they followed her into the home. “I will—”

“Ahmed family. Welcome.”

The deep, throaty voice made them all jump. They looked up the stairway, and Jia did a double take. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from a Bollywood legend, but the woman with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed in leggings and an oversize tunic, all of which was smudged with dirt, wasn’t it.

Jia’s father was the first one to break the spell. “Mrs. Dixit,” he said, and the reverence in his tone startled Jia. She’d never heard her father speak like that to anyone. “You need no introduction. I am Mohammad Ahmed, this is my wife, Farzana, and our daughters, Jia and Ayesha.”

Shweta’s gaze moved over each of them. “You may call me Shweta,” she said in Hindi, and unfortunately, that exhausted most of what Jia knew in Hindi.

“Our daughters only speak English, unfortunately,” Farzana said regretfully, like it was her greatest shame in life that she hadn’t raised bilingual children.

Shweta raised one eyebrow. Damn. Jia only hoped her eyebrows remained that perfect when she got to Shweta’s age. “Not even Urdu?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” Shweta came down the stairs with an old world grace. “Did you have a good drive?”

“Lovely. We took the long way and drove all along the coast.” Mohammad’s voice was hoarse.

“How nice. Apologies for my appearance. I was repotting the plants on my balcony when I saw you arrive.”

“Please, we came off a long flight,” Farzana said. “We are the ones who are rumpled.”

Shweta looked between Jia and Ayesha. “Which one of you is Jia?”

Jia took a step forward. “I am.”

Shweta looked her up and down, and Jia felt stripped naked in that pause. “Hmm,” Shweta said again. “I like your dress. I wore that exact color to an award show last year. Bright colors are appropriate for a pretty girl like you.”

Jia blinked at the compliment. So much for her mom always trying to shove her into pastels. “Thank you.”

“Is your grandson not here to greet us?” Farzana’s forehead started to crease.

“I am afraid he went to the store. He expected you later. He’ll be here shortly. Why don’t we all go freshen up in the meantime?”

“Yes, that would be perfect.” Farzana nearly curtseyed.

Shweta turned to her employee. “Pinky, can you show the Ahmed family to their rooms please?”

Pinky inclined her head and they followed her up the stairs. When they got upstairs and looked out the huge windows, Mohammad let out a little hum, and Farzana and Ayesha gasped at the pure blue ocean in the backyard. Jia didn’t make a noise, but she was moved by the sight too. Oh, to wake up to that water every day.

Someday. When she owned her own makeup company, she’d buy a place like this. She’d give a lot to charity, she tacked on in her own head, and then she’d buy a place like this.

Their parents were shown to one room, and she and Ayesha were put right next door. Her sister didn’t even give Jia a chance to appreciate the view before she whirled on her. “I hate this.”

“So you’ve said.”

“No, I really, really hate this. This is a terrible idea, Jia.” Ayesha wrung her hands. “I can’t believe you’re