Chapter Twenty
A facial, a massage, a blowout, and a sexy, tiny strapless black dress could do wonders for a girl’s spirits. Sejal crossed
her legs and let her Louboutins dangle off her toes. She’d never had red-bottomed heels before, and no one had warned her
that the damn things hurt. The short walk from the boutique to the restaurant had nearly killed her. But they did make the
muscles in her legs pop.
Thanks, Alexei.
They’d moved to another hotel, the Solterra, which was more upscale than the Wyatt, and she’d reserved their room using Alexei’s
dime. Once she felt she’d spent enough during her shopping spree at the hotel boutiques, she’d found a restaurant to wait
in. The waiter had just brought her a dry martini.
The ceiling was mirrored, and the woman she saw reflected there barely looked like her. At least, not the her who had spent
the last few days in a man’s sweatsuit.
I think I like you.
What on earth was she supposed to do with Krish’s declaration? Especially when she was still mad?
She pulled out the phone Sunil had given her on his way out the door. Sejal checked the time, did the time zone math, and then dialed a number for a check-in that was long overdue.
“Hello, Hillview Estates, Jolene speaking, how can I help you?”
“Hi, Jolene, can you please connect me to Ken Washington’s room?”
Jolene’s tone grew cool. “This is his daughter? We’ve been trying to call you.”
Sejal straightened up. “Is there a problem?”
“Your father has been agitating the orderlies again. He claims his neighbor is getting pork chops.”
She grimaced. “I’ll talk to him.”
Ken picked up after the second ring. “Sejal?”
“Hey, Ken. How are you?”
“How am I? Young lady, I have been worried sick. You weren’t responding to my texts or these annoying people’s calls.”
“Sorry, I lost my phone. I hear you’re harassing the staff again?”
“They’re being racist again. My neighbor got pork chops by bribing someone, and I got some unseasoned chicken. Every night!
Boiled chicken or mushy pasta. I’m sick of it. Just because I have a heart condition doesn’t mean my taste buds are dead.”
She was about to launch into a lecture about the importance of a low-salt diet, but the distress in his words pierced her.
Sejal thought about how Krish had devoured that salad when she’d gotten it for him. Health was important but so was enjoying
what you ate. “Ken . . . you are eating, right? Your weight is staying steady, so I assumed you were. The food isn’t that
bad?”
Ken hesitated for a bit. “No, I’m exaggerating. It’s fine. You pay so much for this place. The food should be good.”
It should be, that was right. But if it truly wasn’t tasty, then no wonder Ken and the other residents were obsessed with smuggling food in. “I’ll talk to someone.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m being a silly old man. How are you?”
“I, um . . . I’m good. I saw . . . I saw my sister.”
His response was gentle. “And how was that?”
“It was great. I might have dinner with her.”
“That’s wonderful, Sejal!” Warmth spread through her at his enthusiasm, lighting up the cold, dark places in her body.
“I love you,” she blurted out.
“I love you, too,” he said, with no hesitation.
“That’s all I wanted to say.”
“If closure with your sister can get you to express your feelings, I am all for it.”
Closure. Yes. She licked her lips. “I’ve been thinking I should give therapy a try, so I can pick up some more words like
that.”
“Hallelujah,” he muttered. “I’ve been telling you.”
“I know, I know. I’m listening now, though.”
“Better late than never. I wish I could be there for you. I’m too far away.”
“It was always your dream to go back to England.”
“Yeah. It’s much grayer here than I remember.”
She tightened her grip on the phone. Ken had talked about his childhood often enough over the years, painting it in rosy hues.
When she’d proposed that he return there, he’d seemed delighted. Coming off the heels of her mother kidnapping her, she’d
been equal parts sad he’d be so far away and happy he’d be safer. “You don’t like it there?”
Ken changed the subject so fast, she had her answer. “I’m upset you’re all alone.”
“Not alone. There’s a guy.”
“Oh?” There was interest in his voice. “Think he’ll stick around long enough for me to check him out?”
Oddly enough, the thought of that possibility didn’t make Sejal break out in hives, as mad as she was at Krish. “Eh. Listen,
I should go.”
“I love you, Sejal,” he repeated. “Talk later.”
“I love you, too.” She hung up.
You need to bring him home so you can keep a closer eye on him.
No shit, but that would take a minute. In the meantime . . .
“Hillview Estates, Jolene speaking—”
“Jolene, this is Ken’s daughter,” Sejal said crisply. “What are you feeding my father?”
Jolene cleared her throat. “He has a heart-healthy diet.”
“A heart-healthy diet can include some seasonings. I’m going to hire a nutritionist tomorrow who can work with his doctor.
I’d like the chef to start making him meals he’ll actually enjoy.”
“We cannot accommodate individual meals—”
“You do it all the time when your resident is wealthy enough. He’s not eating as much as he could, is he?”
Her silence was all the confirmation Sejal needed. “Then find someone who can work with my dad and your chef to create a diet
he can live with. Surely you’d like your residents to be healthy and happy, yes?”
“Of course.” Except the words sounded like they came from between gritted teeth.
“Great. Talk soon.” Sejal tried not to bang the phone on the table, but she didn’t put it down gently.
“Is this seat taken?”
She looked up, then did a double take.
Hoo boy. “Wow,” she said, then had to say it again. “Wow.”
Krish slid into the booth across from her. “I hope that’s a good wow.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Otherwise, I’m glad I spent someone else’s money on this suit.”
“It’s a very good wow.” She peered at him. “Did you get your hair cut?”
He ran his hand through it. “A trim. You said to use Alexei’s card everywhere.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining.” She hadn’t been one who found men in suits attractive before, but the charcoal suit was expensive
and cut to perfection, and the green shirt turned his eyes an unbelievably glowing light aventurine. His beard had been shaped
up, the edges perfect slashes across his cheeks.
“Is everything okay?” Krish asked, and nodded at the phone.
“Yes. Just had to take care of my dad. Ken,” she corrected. “There’s this red meat smuggling ring going on . . . anyway, it’s
complicated, don’t worry about it.”
“I fear that I’m going to worry about it now.”
She huffed out a laugh, some of her anger at Jolene dissipating. “It’s getting handled.”
“You look quite beautiful. I’m glad you didn’t get another wig.”
She touched her hair. “I thought about extensions, but the point of this is being visible, so I decided against it.”
“Good.” He looked over the half a dozen appetizers on their table. “You already ordered.”
“I did.”
“Did you get one of everything?”
“I wasn’t sure what we’d want. And again, the objective is a big bill.”
He picked up a dumpling and brought it to his plate. “Drinks and appetizers.”
“Not a Cheeto in sight.”
“I feel blessed.”
She smiled, then caught herself. What was she doing, borderline flirting with a man who had lied to her? Never forgetting
was a superpower, but it was amazing how a couple hours of pampering could soothe a grudge.
No, it wasn’t the pampering. It was his reluctant confession. I think I like you.
Five words she wasn’t used to anyone saying to her. Five words she didn’t usually even say to herself.
“Do you think that Alexei will simply walk up to our table?”
“I don’t think even he’s that foolish. He must know we’re spending his money to lure him out into the open.” She gave a discreet
glance at the entrance, where two of Sunil’s guards were hanging out. There were more guards at the exit, in the lobby, and
in the room they’d reserved. Thank goodness for Sunil, his paranoia, and his little army. “But if he does, we have backup.”
Krish rested his palm on the table. “Are you okay?”
It was also annoying, how attuned he was to her moods. “I’m still pissed at you.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I’m mad at myself, too. He’d duped her more than once now. Did she know the real him at all?
Did she want to?
Yes.
He handed her a brown paper shopping bag. “I got you something.”
She accepted it from him automatically. “You mean, Alexei got me something?”
“No. I used my own cash. I mean, my mom’s cash, but I’ll pay her back once this is all over.”
“I’m not one of those people who can be appeased by a gift,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Sejal pulled out the black purse inside. It wasn’t fancy or designer, but it was big and crescent shaped and made of ripstop
nylon. The strap was thick and wide. It wasn’t particularly attractive, but it was functional. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“You lost your go-bag. I thought you could use this.”
Oh.
“Open it.”
There was more?
She unzipped it. It had lots of pockets, which was pivotal for a go-bag. She pulled out a pouch that was neatly packed with
toiletries, including a toothbrush.
“I tried to organize it with the necessities.”
“You’re very good at organization,” she murmured.
“I’m a librarian.” He stated that like it was obvious. “You’ll have to put your documents and things in it once you get them
again, but this is a good start, I think.”
She found two sealed decks of cards in one of the pockets. “A good start, yes.”
It was possible she was somebody who could be appeased by a gift, because her anger was slowly receding.
Was this how other people felt when someone gave them flowers or jewelry? Because this was so thoughtful. And impeccably tailored
to her. With the exception of her two surrogate dads, nobody had gotten her such a personal gift before. She felt . . . seen.
I think I like you.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, and looked up at him. “Give me your hands.”