Chapter Seventeen #2
“Sameera Malik,” she said, offering her hand to shake.
She smiled in what she hoped was an open, friendly manner while inside she tried to tamp down a rising nervousness.
What if she forgot her carefully prepared pitch?
What if he didn’t respond, or—a horrifying thought occurred to her—Andy thought she was taking advantage of Tom?
Sameera tried to keep her rising panic from her features, but Nadiya had always said she had zero poker face.
His grin widened, and he came in for a hug. “I hope you’re treating my boy like the prince he is,” he said once he had let her go. “He’s the best person I know.”
Sameera tried not to flinch. Of course Andy didn’t know about the truth behind their relationship.
Would it help or hurt to tell him? She had promised to keep quiet in front of Tom’s parents, who stood nearby.
She settled on an awkward smile, and watched as Tom pulled Andy into one of those one-armed, back-slapping bro embraces.
Tom whispered something in Andy’s ear. Throwing her another swift glance, Andy nodded before turning to greet his hosts.
“Rob, Barb, how is it that neither of you seem to age? Tell me your secret, so I can bottle it and make us all rich,” he said, hugging each in turn. Barb actually giggled, and even Rob seemed thrilled to see him. Sameera didn’t remember him looking this happy to see his own son.
“You’re already rich, Andy,” Rob said, clearly delighted. Andy looked modest.
“Yet you’re the one with this killer view,” Andy said, looking around him with genuine admiration.
Sameera felt a prickle on the back of her neck, what Nadiya would teasingly call her “lawyerly Spidey sense” hinting at something.
“I’ve been all over the world, but you Cookes have something no amount of money can buy.
My offer to take Cooke Place off your hands is still there, whenever you like—just name your price! ”
What was he talking about? Sameera looked from Rob’s and Barb’s happy expressions to Tom’s, noticing his sudden frown.
But before she could ask, they moved inside, Andy regaling them with stories of his flight, of his business trip to Hong Kong, and shamelessly name-dropping his friends, all of whom seemed to be celebrities or tech moguls, or both.
Tom lingered back, and Sameera seized the chance to lean close to him. “What did Andy mean, about Cooke Place?” she asked.
“Just a joke he makes every time he visits,” Tom said dismissively. “He offers to buy Cooke Place; my dad laughs. It’s a bit.”
Somehow, Sameera doubted Andy was joking. “Funny.”
Tom shook his head. “You don’t know him the way I do.
Andy is brilliant, but he gets distracted easily.
Unless something is right in front of him, he won’t think about it.
Which is why he needs someone like you working for him.
” The look he shot her now had no trace of humor or warmth.
“You can pitch him on your firm soon, don’t worry.
I know that’s the real reason you came to Alaska. ”
Stung by his words, Sameera stared at Tom. Was he . . . angry with her? After he had asked her to continue with their farce, after he had made her like him with his charming personality, clever hands, his jokes and flirting and kindness to her family? Confused, she followed him inside.
Esa had managed to put the television down in the sitting room without incident, and he and Cal were staring at the box and talking excitedly while Andy stared out the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the sitting room, peaked mountains in the distance.
“You’re a lucky man,” he said to Tom. “My childhood house looked over a busy intersection, and my bedroom had a great view of a dark alley.”
A reluctant smile curled Tom’s lips, and Sameera thought again of how handsome he was, his face a perfect combination of every feature she liked best. “I bet you like your view now. One for every season. How many houses do you own, again?”
“Four,” Andy said promptly. He turned around and grinned at his friend. “Or is it six? I can’t remember.”
Tom shoved Andy. “Idiot business bro.”
“Entitled diva chef,” Andy threw back. He clapped his hands together. “I’m hungry. Tom?”
Tom shook his head. “Nice try.”
Barb came forward. “Breakfast is ready in the kitchen. Help yourself, dear.”
Andy quirked a brow at Sameera. “Would you care to join me? I want to hear all about the woman who captured my best buddy’s heart. And I hear you have a question for me, too.” He disappeared inside the kitchen, leaving Sameera to look uneasily at Tom. He smiled at her in encouragement.
“Go ahead,” he urged.
“He doesn’t expect me to pitch him while he eats scrambled eggs, does he?” she asked in a low voice, trying to keep her panic at bay.
“He’s just hungry and looking for an audience while he eats. I’m sure he’ll listen to your fancy pitch later.” There was something about the way Tom described her pitch, as if it didn’t matter, that made her instantly defensive.
“Is something wrong?” she demanded. “You know how important talking to Andy is to me, Tom. My job depends on how he responds.”
Tom couldn’t look at her. “I know,” he said in a low voice. “Believe me, I’m well aware that talking to Andy is the only reason you’re here.”
He left her before she could respond. What was going on?
Andy had already made himself at home. He was seated at the kitchen island, within easy reach of the fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit that Barb had prepared that morning, and had already filled his plate.
“Do you want to warm that up?” she asked. Andy shook his head.
“Eating cold eggs reminds me of how far I’ve come in life,” he said.
“To know I could warm them up, or make more, or fly an entire chicken coop here, or buy this entire town if I wanted.” He grinned to let her know he was joking, even though she suspected he wasn’t.
She returned his smile, feeling uneasy. Tom’s strange comment had rattled her, and she forced herself to concentrate on the man before her.
Andy Shaikh was a good-looking man, and he knew it.
From the half smile on his perfectly exfoliated face to his meticulously lined-up beard, expertly tousled hair, designer clothes, and custom sneakers, his image was clearly designed to impress.
Now he ducked his head in a blatant show of fake modesty that made her eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Coffee?” she asked blandly, ignoring his previous comment.
“Tea, if you have it,” he returned easily, and she filled the kettle. Andy’s gaze was fixed on his food, but she wasn’t fooled. He was paying attention to her, too.
“Barb was so excited when she heard your plane, and Rob is thrilled, too. I thought billionaires were too busy to make impromptu visits.”
Andy’s eyes crinkled at her. “Reports of my wealth are greatly exaggerated. My net worth is six hundred million at most, so I can spend my time as I please. Real billionaires are held to a different standard. Besides, Rob and Barb are like my adoptive parents.”
Sameera furrowed her brows, thinking. Tom said his father had cut him off when he dropped out of college, and that Andy had saved him from being unhoused.
Why would his best buddy be on visiting terms with his estranged father?
The math ain’t math-ing, as Bee would say.
Andy’s next words revealed that the suspicion clearly went both ways.
“I was surprised when Tom told me you agreed to come out to Alaska,” he started. “He hasn’t invited anyone except me to visit before. Definitely never a girlfriend.”
That made her inexplicably happy, in a way she didn’t want to examine too closely. “It’s a long story,” Sameera said, deflecting. “Do you often visit Rob and Barb, without Tom? He told me he hasn’t been up to Wolf Run in a few years.”
Andy didn’t answer, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I’d love to hear about how you and Tom met, Sameera. I have to keep an eye on my boy, you understand.”
Sameera’s stomach squeezed. She clearly hadn’t thought this plan entirely through.
She had told Tom she wouldn’t lie about their relationship.
If she pitched Andy now and got the job, a part of her would wonder if it was because he thought she was Tom’s significant other.
On the other hand, if she came clean and told Andy the truth—that she and Tom were not dating, that she had agreed to film a few videos for Tom’s social media in exchange for an introduction to him—that wouldn’t exactly paint her in a positive light.
The kettle clicked off, and she automatically made him chai, strong and hot, sweetened with honey, just the way her parents liked it. He accepted the cup and took a cautious sip.
“You can take the desi girl out of the boardroom and out to Alaska, but she will never forget how to brew a proper cuppa,” he joked. Andy had cleared his plate, and she reached for it, but he shook his head, rising to put it neatly in the dishwasher.
“Tom’s chai is actually better than mine,” she said, and a fond expression crossed Andy’s face.
“Did he tell you how we met?” Andy asked.
“He said you were roommates in business school. That you invested in his catering company. That everything you touch makes money,” Sameera added.
Andy laughed, putting down his tea. “I was terrified when I went to that school. I felt completely out of my element. Most of my classmates came from upper-middle-class and wealthy families, people with money. I was the only Muslim kid in the entire cohort, and one of the only Brown guys, too. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. ”
Sameera nodded. Of course she did. It had been the same for most of her classes, even on the East Coast, and definitely in her firm—exhibit A being Blake “Chip” Latham—though things were starting to change.
It was strange that though she was a nonpracticing Muslim, and in some ways more comfortable around white and Black Americans than her parents’ desi immigrant friends, she was also aware of the ways she was instantly judged and labeled when people first met her.
How her last name—Malik—instantly put her on the outside, while her lack of community and faith adherence put her on the outside with her own people, too.
It was a situation that often made her feel lonely and frustrated.
Her estrangement with her own family only emphasized that Sameera didn’t really fit in anywhere.
It was a surprise to realize that Andy could empathize with these feelings.
“Tom made me feel like I was all right, just as I was. He’s got this way about him. Like he’s comfortable in his own body and has nothing to prove. I felt like I could relax and just breathe when he was around. That made it easier to plot strategy and figure out how to take over.”
Sameera laughed. Behind the blustering, swaggering man who’d shown up at his friend’s house in his own plane, there was a real person who had once been scared and uncertain and full of dreams he didn’t know would ever come to fruition.
Sort of like her. He was right about Tom, too.
She felt instantly calm and accepted around Tom, no matter what she said or did.
Forget cooking; that was his true superpower.
“Do you always plot strategy, or do you sometimes go with your gut?” Sameera asked.
Andy watched her over his tea, which had cooled down considerably. Maybe he liked everything just a little cold. He had made his fortune selling bubble tea and frozen drinks, after all. “It’s funny you should say that, Sameera. Because I have a question I’d love to ask you.”
But before he could elaborate, Barb joined them in the kitchen. “Tahsin wanted to check out the Christmas market, and today is the last day. Andy, you’re welcome to join us, dear.”
Andy swallowed the last of his tea and rubbed his hands together. “Stock market, Christmas market, I love them all. Lead the way.”
Barb bustled out of the kitchen, and Andy caught her eye. “We’ll talk more later,” he said, heading for the foyer.