Chapter Nine
“Is that a wolf?” Esa said, and Sameera’s eyes flew open.
She had fallen asleep on the couch last night, relocating there after tossing and turning in her bed for hours, her mother’s words ringing in her ears.
Despite her justification and rationalization during the day, when she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, all the worry, guilt, and fear she’d tamped down rose in a panicky wave.
“I think there’s a wolf in our backyard. Sameera, come see!” The delight and wonder in Esa’s voice had her throwing off the blanket she had dragged to the couch from her bed.
Esa stood in front of the big bay window. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but a lamp was lit and she followed his pointing finger toward . . .
A wolf. Or maybe a snow leopard. Sameera wasn’t sure. Either way, a white furry ball of fluff, almost as tall as their mother, with icy blue eyes and a lolling tongue, stared straight through the window at them. And it looked hungry.
“Get down!” Sameera said, pulling her brother to a crouch beside her.
“Why?” Esa said.
“It thinks you’re breakfast!” she said, panicking.
“Can we keep it?” Esa asked.
They popped up their heads to take a look, and the wolf or snow leopard yawned widely, showing off razor-sharp teeth. Sameera whimpered. Beside her, Esa snapped a picture.
Just as Sameera was starting to regret every decision that had led her to this moment, including her decision to apply to law school, Tom appeared in their backyard. Instinct took over, and she jumped to her feet and ran out the door, pausing only long enough to put on her boots.
Cold. It was freezing outside, and she wasn’t even wearing a sweater. She frantically waved at Tom.
“There’s a wild animal!” she yelled. “A snow leopard slash werewolf hybrid! Save yourself!”
Both Tom and the predatory fluff ball looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
The creature yawned again, already bored, before butting Tom with its big head.
Tom scratched the animal fondly behind its neck.
“This is Atlas. She was at a neighbor’s house yesterday while y’all settled in.
She’s an Alaskan malamute—her great-great-grandmother used to haul sleds around town.
But Atlas doesn’t work for a living, right, girl? You’re a lady of leisure, aren’t you?”
Esa emerged from the house in snow boots and a warm parka and, approaching Atlas, proceeded to pet the big animal with enthusiasm.
Tom smirked at Sameera. “Are you afraid of dogs?”
“I’m afraid of mythical predators wandering the forest looking for bloodthirsty revenge. That thing looked like it was in the mood for breakfast, and I am not on the menu,” she said.
Tom’s gaze slid down Sameera’s outfit—a flimsy long-sleeve shirt and flannel pajamas. “You’re going to get sick dressed in that,” he said gruffly, and he was right: She was shivering. “I came to remind you all about breakfast at the big house.”
Sameera promised they would be there soon, once she had roused her parents, taken a scalding-hot shower, and put on several dozen layers of clothes.
“Come on, sweetheart, time to go,” Tom cooed, and Sameera’s stomach clenched in response before she realized he was talking to Atlas. Her hands were half frozen now. With a nervous smile at Tom, she retreated to the house to get ready for the day.
By the time she had finished taking a shower and straightening her hair, her parents and Esa were waiting for her in the sitting room, her brother regaling them with a highly exaggerated account of their morning brush with the local wildlife.
“And then Sameera ran outside to protect her man, except the big cuddly beast turned out to be a family pet. Her name is Atlas, and I hope she has a sister because I know what I want for Christmas,” Esa finished.
“We’re not bringing an Alaskan sled dog home to Atlanta,” Tahsin said severely. “Come along, Sameera; we’re late for breakfast.”
Inside the main house, a feast waited on the kitchen island: eggs, roasted vegetables and potatoes, three different types of juices, mini quiches, a tray with pastries, and a carafe of coffee.
The Malik family were assured that the meal was vegetarian—the Cookes hadn’t been sure of their dietary preferences.
Touched by this consideration, Sameera loaded her plate with a croissant and some eggs before pouring herself a large cup of coffee with a generous dollop of cream and three sugars.
She needed sustenance following her near-death experience.
She didn’t care what Tom said—Atlas had definitely seemed hungry when she’d looked at Sameera.
Hovering by the stove, Tom gave her a small smile, as if he could read her mind.
He was dressed in a rumpled blue shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes, hair tousled in a way that made her want to run her fingers through the short curls.
Instead, she curled her hands around her mug and took a sip of her coffee.
The family made small talk about the Cooke estate, and her parents complimented the guesthouse’s many amenities.
“There’s been a Cooke living in this town for over two hundred years,” Rob said proudly.
“Once Tom returns, he’ll take up the tradition.
” Sameera remembered what Tom had told her last night, about being his escape hatch.
“I have a life in Atlanta,” Tom said. “A business. Other . . . relationships.” He looked at her. Not lying, exactly.
Rob snorted. “Cooking for other people, as if you were a domestic,” he said.
“Nothing wrong with making meals. I’m a modern man.
I just don’t understand why you would rather work around the clock for others, or post those silly videos, instead of staying where your people have lived for generations, and where everyone knows you.
What’s so great about Atlanta? No seasons.
Nonstop traffic. No mountains, no ocean. What kind of life is that?”
There was silence after he had spoken, and Sameera could sense something else beneath his words: a sadness and confusion she remembered from when she had been estranged from her own family.
“I guess you think being the king of nowhere is a better alternative,” Tom said tightly, arms crossed.
Barb hurried to interrupt the brewing confrontation. “We’re so happy you all could make it! Especially you, Tom, honey. We’ve missed you terribly, right, Rob?” Her cheerful smile was still fixed on her face, though it had tightened at the edges. Tom looked away, while Rob didn’t bother to respond.
Sameera’s father broke in. “Sometimes, it does not matter if you live across the country, or across the street. The pain of separation cuts deep either way. My family knows something of this.”
The silence stretched, and Sameera wanted to sink into the ground. Barb turned to her, obviously eager to change the subject. “Sameera, I hear you’re a lawyer. What sort of law do you practice? I used to work in marketing for retail companies before I moved to Wolf Run.”
The conversation continued in a different direction, Naveed and Tahsin chiming in between sips of coffee and tea, but the atmosphere remained tense. At the end of the meal, her parents rose to help clear the dishes, but both Rob and Barb waved them away.
“Our compliments to the chef,” Naveed said, making a little bow to Tom.
“This meal is all Barb,” Rob cut in. “Tom doesn’t cook for us.”
After breakfast was cleared away, Barb laid out her plans for the remaining days they would spend in Wolf Run. As she spoke enthusiastically, Sameera’s heart sank. Tom glanced at her once and immediately spoke up.
“Sameera and I have our own plans, but y’all go right ahead. We’ll join in when we can,” he said firmly, and Sameera felt a burst of gratitude for him.
Her parents and Barb protested, but she noticed Rob only scoffed and rolled his eyes.
It made her mad. Tom had flown all this way to visit his father and stepmother, and so far, Rob had done nothing to warrant the effort.
She reached across and grabbed Tom’s hand.
“I promised I’d film a few videos for Tom’s social media,” she said, smiling at him. Esa perked up at this.
“I can help,” he said, and Cal chimed in that he was free, too.
Despite Tahsin’s protests, Barb quickly agreed to the plan—the parents would head into town, while the younger set stayed behind.
“Have fun messing around in the kitchen,” Rob said, his parting shot.
Sameera flung a sickly-sweet smile his way. “Thank you, Rob. We sure will.”
Tom shook his head at her after the parents had left soon afterward. “You didn’t have to do that. I was trying to buy you time. I know you’re buried under work.”
“So what else is new,” Esa muttered.
“Your sister works really hard,” Tom said, but Esa rolled his eyes.
“We get it, you love your girlfriend. You don’t have to perform for us.”
“We’re not together,” Tom said.
“‘Situationship,’ ‘dating,’ whatever you want to call it. I really don’t care,” Esa said. “I’m here to film. What are we making today? I’m hungry.”
“You just ate your weight in eggs, toast, and fruit,” Sameera said, smiling at her always-hungry teenage brother.
“What’s your point? Less talking; more cooking and filming.”
In the end, Tom convinced Sameera she should get some work done while he talked over ideas with Esa and Cal. She didn’t need much convincing—after the movie night with her family and then sleeping late, the familiar panicky feelings were creeping up.
She returned to her room in the guesthouse and settled in to answer emails. She’d managed to concentrate for almost an hour when Bee texted her.
Helllooo? Are you alive? Do I need to send a hot rescue SEAL team? Blink once for yes, twice for Yes, Please.
Sameera stretched first. Her legs were cramping. She answered quickly. Sorry, things have been busy.
Bee’s response was immediate: In bed with Tom busy?
Sameera smiled. Trying to catch up on work busy, you perv.
There’s been no video uploaded in the past two days. Inquiring minds want to know.
Sameera imagined her friend drinking coffee, Lorenzo lounging by her side. Sameera changed the subject. Have you heard anything from work?
I’m on vacation. What’s work?
Just then, her laptop pinged with a notification, and Sameera’s heart sped up. It was from HR. She skimmed the email quickly and tried not to pass out. She typed a message to Bee.
HR wants a meeting the first day I’m back to review my work. This is it. I’m getting fired.
Bee added an exclamation point to her message. What? Are you serious?
Sameera’s heart was pounding as she typed. I should be grateful they kept me around this long.
Bee’s indignation was clear from her text: The Undertakers are lucky to have you. Listen to me: Do Not panic. Do Not spiral. You’re going to hook a whale, and if that doesn’t work, I promise you can move in with me. I’ll kick Lorenzo out to make room, don’t worry.
But it was too late. Sameera was already spiraling, sinking under a cloud of shame.
She remembered the last time she had felt this way—after she’d failed the bar exam on her first attempt.
When she’d received the results, four months after she had written the two-day exam, she couldn’t believe it.
She was an excellent student. There must have been some mistake.
Except there wasn’t. Despite extensive preparation, she had failed. And Georgia had a near 70 percent pass rate! The humiliation she had felt then was debilitating.
She was still with Hunter at the time, and his reaction didn’t help.
I hope you can still pay your half of the rent, was his only comment.
His cold response had stung, but Hunter had always been brutally honest—it was one of the things she had admired about him, when they’d first gotten together.
It took her years to realize that he often used his so-called honesty to justify his cruelty.
No other words of encouragement? she had thrown back, jokingly.
Study harder next time.
But she had studied hard the first time.
She had been nervous, but she thought she’d done well.
It didn’t make any sense. Even worse, the bar exam was offered only twice a year, and she had to scramble to get ready for the next one.
Though she passed on her second try, her confidence was shot.
The boutique law firm where she had been interning didn’t ask her back, and she was soon on the hunt for a job.
She polished up her résumé and sent it out to dozens of firms, with no response.
By the time she was offered a job at Greaves, Hargrave & Bury, she was desperate.
Hunter was happy for her, and they went out to celebrate that night, but all she could think about was how badly she wanted to call her parents and share this news.
Except when she called her mother, Tahsin’s “Mubarak” was muted.
She said she had never heard of the firm, and when Sameera told her it was one of the best-known midsize firms in the state, her mother asked why she hadn’t tried to find a job with a bigger firm instead.
They hadn’t talked for months after that call.
Nadiya had been happy for her, at least—she had sent flowers, all the way from Oxford.
Things were better now, she reminded herself.
Her parents were putting in the work, and so was she.
Hunter was gone, and good riddance. Once she finished paying off the last of his debts, and the money she owed her father, she could think about what she really wanted to do.
In the meantime, she needed this job. The idea of being set adrift on the job market again was terrifying.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a large bang! from the patio, followed by the sound of her brother screaming. Sameera grabbed her parka, pulled on her boots, and started to run.