A Little Naudi (Faire Island Bride #6)

Chapter 1

NAUDI SHARMA

The numbers on the computer screen blur before my eyes.

Numbers and I have a complicated relationship.

Every day they demand my attention, insisting I balance them, organize them, and make sense of them.

The truth is I would rather be surrounded by fine silk, lace, and sketchbooks than spreadsheets and sales totals.

Unfortunately, I can’t run a business, my own business, without taking care of the numbers. I rub my weary eyes and take a sip of the quickly cooling coffee from the coffee shop a few stores down. If only I could spend all day designing instead of bookkeeping, I would be a much happier woman.

With a heavy sigh, I glare at the computer screen in front of me and get back to entering the morning sales from the shop, but not before I notice how sunlight spills through the display window and catches the lace bralette on a mannequin.

It’s one of my best-selling designs. Black lace with tiny gold threads woven through the cups. Elegant but just a little sinful.

Exactly how lingerie should be.

The bells above the bookstore ring as someone enters. There’s an open, arched doorway between my best friend Poppy’s bookstore and my shop. Since Poppy had to run home to nurse her baby, I’m watching both stores for a few hours. It’s no problem. We help each other out when needed.

“Welcome. I’ll be right there,” I call out as I save my work. I do not want to lose what I’ve already entered. Starting over would be torture.

“Naudi.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise at hearing my name being said by a voice I haven’t heard in many years. The last time I remember hearing it was when she cried out for me not to leave.

Excitement, fear, and panic war inside me, fighting to be the first emotion I allow to escape. Slowly my gaze moves up to the young woman standing in my shop.

My sister.

But not the sister I remember.

When I left India, she was a girl with knobby knees and colt-like movements.

That’s not the woman before me now. She’s gorgeous.

Dark hair, mysterious dark eyes with a barely contained defiant streak in their depths.

I’m proud and frightened by that defiance.

That same boldness got me disowned by my family.

“Arya?” I ask, unable to make the pieces slip into place. Why is she here? Has she refused to fall into our parents’ plans for her future like I did? If so, I hurt for the struggles and loneliness I know she will endure.

The hint of a smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, Didi. It is Arya. I am sorry I didn’t call. I wasn’t sure you would want to see me.”

A cry leaves my lips as I rush from behind the checkout counter and straight into my sister’s opened arms. I squeeze her tight as we rock back and forth with tears of joy streaming down our faces. Why she’s here doesn’t matter. I’m holding my sister.

The day I refused to follow my father’s demands was the last time I saw any member of my family. He threw me out that same day and told me I was dead to the family. I had nowhere to go. No money. Just a scholarship and a dream I refused to give up.

My grandmother was my saving grace. She’d slipped out of the house and gave me the address of a great-aunt I’d never met who lived in New York, along with an envelope filled with a little over two thousand dollars. She must have been saving for years to accumulate that much.

I went to New York and met my aunt, whom I discovered was my grandmother’s sister, Aunt Brena. She’d married a westerner and moved to the States more than twenty years prior. She hadn’t been disowned, but she may as well have been because Aunt Brena wasn’t spoken of in the family.

“Of course, I want to see you.” Drying my sister’s tears with my thumbs, I smile and ask, “Why are you here, Arya? Is it Mother or Father?” I’d been dreading the time when I learned of their failing health or worse.

Arya sniffles. “No, they are fine. I am here because I need to speak with you.”

Red lights flash behind my eyes. “And Father allowed you to travel to the United States?”

She bows her head, refusing to meet my gaze. That’s answer enough. Father doesn’t know she’s here. Concern trickles in, my stomach turning with it.

“Please, Didi, we need to talk.”

“Of course, just let me turn the sign on the door to closed, and we can go upstairs to my apartment.” Normally, if I need to run an errand or take a break, all I have to do is call out to Poppy on her side of the store. Since she’s not here, I flip the sign and lock both shops’ doors.

Arya follows me up the stairs. “The shop is beautiful, Naudi. How long have you worked here? We thought you were in New York.”

Entering my apartment, I go straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. Arya takes a seat at the small breakfast table by the window which looks out over downtown.

“You can see the ocean from here,” she comments, gazing out the window.

Reaching into a cabinet, I grab two mugs and chuckle.

“It’s hard not to see the ocean from an island.

I’m still getting used to it. I guess that’s the answer to one of your questions.

I’ve been here about a year. I did have a job in New York but wasn’t happy there.

When my best friend opened the bookstore, she offered me the adjoining storefront for my own shop. ”

“A shop owner. That is amazing.”

Dropping a tea bag in each cup, I add, “Not just a shop owner, the designs I sell are all mine.”

Arya’s chocolate brown eyes widen. “A fashion designer. Naudi, that is most incredible. Mother and Father would be so proud.”

With a sarcastic huff, I reply, “I doubt that.”

The kettle starts to steam. I switch off the heat and fill the two cups. I carry them to the table and then get cream from the fridge and sugar from the counter and set both on the table before taking a seat.

We both add a splash of cream and a teaspoon of sugar to our mugs and stir.

After taking a sip, Arya sets her cup down.

“Mother misses you. I find her crying sometimes. I know she is thinking of you. Father, in his own way, misses you too. He is a prideful man, but I think he regrets his words. He never should have disowned you.”

In no hurry to respond, I take another sip of tea, swallow, and set my mug back on the table before saying, “Father cared more about saving face than his daughter’s happiness. He knew my plans after graduation. He didn’t care what I wanted.”

“At the time, Mother told me you’d gone to America but not the reason why. It was years later before I understood what had happened.”

“Father signed a marriage pact with someone I didn’t want to marry. He never mentioned a word to me until the deed was done. He thought I would have no option but to follow along like a good Indian girl. I had my own dreams that didn’t include marriage.”

“I understand, and I am proud of you for standing up for what you want. I have dreams as well. I want to marry Kabir Ishaan. I love him deeply, and I want to be his wife and have lots of children.”

Hearing my sister wants the exact opposite of what I wanted doesn’t bother me as long as it’s her choice.

It’s not that I’m against marriage. If that’s what you want, good for you.

But I shouldn’t be shunned because I don’t want to take the traditional route.

“That’s wonderful, Arya. I am happy for you. ”

“The problem is Father will not allow it until the oldest is married.”

There it is.

That’s the last shoe to drop I’d been waiting on. Before I can form the thoughts to reply, Arya continues her plea.

“I’m not as strong as you are, Naudi. I don’t want to go against Father’s wishes and be disowned. I would miss my family too much. Please tell me you are already married?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “No, I’m not married, and I don’t plan to be for a very long time.”

I never want to be in a place where a man has control over my life. My father and my previous boss taught me that lesson well.

“Besides, Father disowned me. That makes you the oldest. My marital status shouldn’t matter because, in the eyes of the family, I don’t exist anymore.”

Tears well in her eyes. “Father will not listen to reason. There is no one special to you?”

Her face breaks when I shake my head again. Her lips tremble. “I understand.”

“If I am disowned, why should it even matter to Father?”

“You know he is from the old school of tradition. He lost face when he had to renege on your engagement. It was years before he could hold his head up.”

What is my father planning?

“Arya, is it possible Father is hoping to force my hand to marry? Are you sure he doesn’t know you are here?”

“I don’t think he does. Our cousin Keeya is marrying a man from England and Aunt Anika wanted to come to New York to shop for the wedding gown.

They invited me along. They both know where I am, and they will keep my visit with you secret.

We stopped by to see Aunt Brena and she told me where you were.

You know, through the years mother gets news of you from her.

Father must see the charges on the phone bill, but he’s never said a word. ”

“What will you do?”

“I will hope that Father changes his mind, and if he doesn’t…” She swallows and blinks tears form in her eyes. “Kabir deserves to find someone to give him the home and family he desires. If that can’t be me, then I hope to be strong enough to let him go.”

Hit in the heart is the only way to express how those words affect me.

To have that much selfless love for someone isn’t something I have knowledge of firsthand.

Brax and Poppy have that type of love. My other married friends on the island seem to be happy in their love.

I’ve never felt anything close to that kind of connection with anyone.

The only man that has ever made me feel anything is Walker Colley. Unfortunately, what I feel for him is nowhere near love. It’s more in the loathe to dislike column. I’ve only seen the man a handful of times and each one of them I’ve wanted to dump a bucket of fish chum over his head.

It’s a shame he’s so stunningly handsome. I’ve imagined him in a loose white shirt, high-waisted trousers, tall leather boots… and he’d make it work.

I offer Arya a bed for the night, but she needs to get back to New York. I wish I could spend more time with my sister, but I’m thankful for what I was given. She has my number now, and I hope she will stay in touch.

Ayra checks the time on her phone and sighs. “I should leave. The ferry will not wait for me.”

“I’ll walk you down to the harbor.” I push back from the table.

As we step outside and onto the sidewalk, the street carries its usual island rhythm. A couple of tourists wander toward the harbor. Someone down the block laughs loudly enough to echo off the storefronts.

Arya pauses beside the door and glances up at the sign above the window. “Your shop is beautiful, Naudi,” she tells me again.

“It’s getting there.” I smile and shut the door behind us.

“You’ve built a good life for yourself here.”

Something in the way she says it makes my chest tighten. “Yes. I have.”

She pulls me into another hug, and I hold her for a moment longer to soak in the feeling of my younger sister in my arms. It may be the last time I see her. The familiar scent of jasmine in her hair takes me back to when we were children whispering secrets after bedtime.

“I wish I could help you, Ayra.”

“You already have. Seeing you, knowing you are happy gives me courage. You are brave, Didi. I hope to be too.”

She steps back and we both wipe the corners of our eyes.

“I must go before I change my mind and stay forever.”

“That wouldn’t be the worst thing.” I mean that.

Arya laughs softly. “Tell that to Father.”

Arm in arm, we start toward the corner where the road curves down toward the ferry dock. I’m about to say something else when a blur shoots past us. I just make out Jimmy Reynolds, the grocer’s grandson, on his bike when he turns his head and shouts, “Sorry!”

His back tire clips my hip before I have time to move and then everything happens in slow motion. Or at least it seems like it to me.

A squeal of brakes. A loud thud, and something slams into me with great force. Pain explodes through me as the world tilts and I’m suddenly airborne.

The pain.

Arya screaming my name.

My eyes flutter open to bright blue sky. I hurt everywhere. I attempt to sit up, but my body won’t work. I try to breathe but even that hurts. Darkness begins to form like a haze over my eyes.

The last thing I see is a man bending over me, saying he’s called an ambulance. I know him. He takes my hand and tells me I’m going to be okay.

Am I not okay? Why is he calling an ambulance?

I try to ask, still not comprehending what happened. In my muddled brain, I need to get up and get Arya to the ferry before it leaves. I move my hand and a stabbing pain makes those dark spots multiply. Maybe I need to rest just a moment. Then I’ll get up.

“Come on, Naudi, hang in there. The paramedics will be here any minute now. Just hang in there.”

My vision clears for a second and I get a glimpse of my savior just before the pain and darkness take me away. Wouldn’t you know it would be him? Walker Colley.

I’m on the verge of passing out, but not before I hear his stupid remark, “You damn fool woman, why did you jump in front of my truck?”

My last conscious thought is that I need to add a leather belt with a cutlass tucked through it to his outfit.