Chapter 7 #2
And prone to hogging the galbi, Cynthia had quickly learned.
Whenever they visited their favorite Korean restaurant, A Little Seoul, Naomi always hoarded more than her fair share of ribs.
But Cynthia couldn’t bring herself to hold it against her friend, not when, for the first time in forever, Cynthia had an inkling that the bond of sisterhood might be in reach.
She’d always been too driven and competitive as a child, earning her jealousy and cold shoulders rather than friendship bracelets. It had been worth her father’s adoration, though—seeing him cheering her on the front lines had driven away the loneliness.
Or so she’d chosen to believe. Because hanging out with Naomi was…
nice. Unexpected, too, like wearing fake eyelashes for the first time.
With Naomi, Cynthia could let her guard down and relax a little.
She could drop the professional front and whine about Klepto Keer and Leering Larry.
Unlike everybody else, Naomi wasn’t put off by Cynthia’s dry, pointed sense of humor, nor was she intimidated by her ambition.
Cynthia could lament, complain, and despair to her heart’s content and Naomi never acted like it was a sign of weakness or that Cynthia was in over her head at work.
She just listened and dished it right back out.
“And what kind of guy is Rohit exactly?” Naomi asked before taking a bite of a perfectly grilled short rib with a ferocity that spoke to a friendship that had long ago transcended the need for polite table manners and portion etiquette.
It warmed Cynthia from the inside out to watch her friend eat like a starving dinosaur and, in turn, be able to do the same.
“You’ve met him before.”
“I have? When?”
“The first time was when you came to my office at Kumar Construction.” When Naomi’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, Cynthia sighed and threw down her fork.
“He’s…He’s that guy that everybody likes right away.
The one who’s all smiley and cheerful for no particular reason at all.
The kind who doesn’t need to earn respect or impress people because it’s just given to him.
He’s a ‘dude’ but in a good way. Rohit is…
” Cynthia’s mind wandered to the night she’d met him, how his wit had slid under her skin and nestled there in the most intoxicating way.
“People are drawn to him, and I have no idea why. It’s annoying.
” Cynthia nabbed a few of the ribs onto her plate before Naomi devoured them all. “You don’t remember?”
Naomi cocked her head as she wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Vaguely. I’ve only seen him a handful of times and always briefly.” Her lips tilted in a mischievous grin. “He has great hair.”
Cynthia glared and, in a fit of spite, grabbed the last short rib on the platter. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah. Thick and silky. It looks really soft, too.”
Dropping her gaze to her plate, Cynthia tried to ignore the heat rushing to her cheeks. It was really soft, which Cynthia knew firsthand, having felt the tickle of those satiny strands against her cheek when he’d leaned down to whisper in her ear, his fingers buried between her thighs.
She’d never revealed that part to Naomi, had never been able to admit to a screwup she hadn’t even realized she’d been making at the time.
Even now, more than a year later, the memory of that night gave her mental whiplash: feeling invincible and sexy under Rohit’s worshipful touch, the baffling tenderness tempting her back to his side as she’d glanced at his sleeping form while scrawling her phone number on the hotel stationery.
And then the sharp, bitter disappointment a few hours later when she realized he was her father’s Chosen One.
Sixteen months had failed to clear the air, and aside from acting like it never happened, there was nothing Cynthia could do about it now except look forward and secure the future she wanted.
Thinking about that night always left her unsettled. And irritated with herself, not to mention Rohit. Cynthia hated feeling uncomfortable, abhorred how the memory of his slow, steady hands sliding down her body to revel in her slick heat made her shift in her seat.
Cynthia resisted the urge to press her glass of ice water against her neck and settled for a sip instead. “Sexy or not,” she said tightly, “I don’t trust him. And I don’t like him.”
“Sexy?” Naomi’s voice was innocent. “Who said anything about sex appeal? I thought we were talking about his hair. Do you find him sexy, Cynthia Kumar?”
The bonds of sisterhood could kiss her ass. “Don’t even go there, Naomi. He’s all wrong for me.”
“How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Cynthia replied sarcastically. “How about the entitled-frat-boy thing? The social-butterfly-on-steroids behavior? Or the fact that he’s my competition at work?”
“Last I heard, opposites attract. Look at Dev and me.”
At the mention of her friend’s fiancé, Cynthia leaned her chin on the palm of her hand with exaggerated confusion. “I don’t even know how you two function as a couple.”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Cynthia.” As an added rebuke, Naomi forked a short rib from Cynthia’s plate and moved it to her own. “I don’t understand why you consider Rohit your rival at work. As your father’s only child, aren’t you kind of set up for life?”
Cynthia dropped her eyes down to her plate and fiddled with her fork.
While Naomi knew she hoped to run Kumar Construction one day, she never divulged the full extent of what an uphill battle she was facing.
It felt disrespectful to her father, and while Naomi would never judge, Cynthia didn’t want to admit that most of the time, she felt like she was losing the fight.
When she didn’t respond, Naomi shrugged good-naturedly. “Okay, fine. Let’s move on to a different topic. How was the rest of your day?”
Cynthia contemplated the table of near-empty plates.
Although her friendship with Naomi still felt new and shiny, there were often times Cynthia surprised herself with how well she felt she knew Naomi.
She was aware of Naomi’s wedding planning frustrations thanks to the critical eye of a too-involved and too-enthusiastic future mother-in-law; she knew of the complex but protective relationship Naomi shared with her own mother; and she sympathized with Naomi’s uncertainty, as someone who hadn’t been raised with a strong connection to her Bengali roots, with finding her place in the Desi community.
She also knew, despite all their differences, that Naomi was smart, loyal, and compassionate.
Yet Cynthia struggled to bare herself to the same degree that Naomi had done with her.
A childhood of pretending she didn’t care that the other girls called her snobby or that, more often than not, she’d eaten lunch alone in the library, Cynthia was a pro at keeping people at arm’s length.
She could only bring herself to feed Naomi bits and pieces of her challenges at work, her strenuous relationship with her parents, her hurt feelings after those Tuesday meetings.
Hell, Cynthia could barely acknowledge to herself how lonely she sometimes felt, climbing an impenetrable mountain with no view of the top.
It was for these reasons that Cynthia, even as Naomi patiently waited with a smile as open and warm as the sun, couldn’t talk about Melanie and the horrible claims she’d made.
The information was lodged in the back of Cynthia’s throat like a swallowed fish bone and had led to her cutting out of work early—something she rarely did—and hitting up a kickboxing class at the gym, where the subwoofer had drowned out her ability to think.
Besides, Melanie’s stupid claims would amount to nothing. Probably.
“Hey,” Naomi said, gesturing at her phone. “My ride showed up early. Can he join?”
“Is it your fiancé?” Cynthia sang back in a teasing voice.
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
With a nod, Cynthia relaxed back in her chair. Naomi’s fiancé, Dev Mukherjee, whom Cynthia not-so-secretly found awkward and hilariously pessimistic, would be a welcome distraction. “Sure.”
A few minutes later, Dev slid into a seat and didn’t resist as Naomi heaped what was left of the bokkumbap onto a plate for him.
It was such an innocent gesture and yet, to Cynthia, another stark difference between them: with Naomi, there was always enough to go around, and everyone was welcome.
She doled out kindness and warmth so easily.
Cynthia, on the other hand, always felt she had to keep everything close to her chest lest someone snatch it away.
“So, uh, what were you two talking about?” Dev said in his graceless way. He looked embarrassed and was obviously attributing the lack of conversation at the table to his interrupting a dinner for two.
“Period products,” Naomi replied with a straight face, and Cynthia smothered a chuckle. She’d come to appreciate how much her friend loved to give her fiancé a hard time.
But Dev, obviously used to Naomi’s teasing, looked unperturbed. “No, seriously.”
Naomi grinned at Cynthia. “Oh, nothing much, just this and that.” The grin turned evil. “Like the people Cynthia works with…”
Cynthia shot her friend a dark glare.
“Like Rohit,” Naomi continued, nudging Dev’s arm. “Do you remember him? You met him once when we ran into him at the grocery store.”
Cynthia’s dark glare turned murderous. So Naomi had known whom Cynthia was talking about when she had mentioned his name.
Dev frowned for a moment before recognition lit up his brown eyes. “Oh yeah. That dude—” Dev stopped himself and ducked his head. When Naomi prodded his arm again, he cleared his throat before adding in a reluctant voice: “That guy has really nice hair.”
Reaching for the menu, Cynthia groaned over Naomi’s cackle. “Shut up and order more galbi.”