Layla laughed, a real belly laugh that ended in a snort. It was the best sound in the world. Why did it have to come from the woman who irritated him the most?

“Poor Dilip. I felt sorry for him.” She bit into the sandwich and groaned. “So good.”

Sam felt that groan as a throb in his groin. Had they put something in the pureed Antarctic water? If anything, he should like her less after their lunch. She supported a rival team.

“It’s not too late to call him back,” Sam said. “You, Dilip, his parents, and your six kids could form your own Bollywood dance troupe.”

“Give it up,” she muttered under her breath.

“I never give up,” Sam said. “It’s my greatest strength.”

“How do you know it’s not your greatest weakness? Maybe there are times you should give up and you can’t. I kept trying to be as good as Dev, but I never was. I kept trying to make my relationships work, but I couldn’t. So finally I gave up on finding my Westley and now I’m going to marry someone I don’t love so I don’t have to deal with all the drama. Stubbornness isn’t always a positive quality.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and Sam had a sudden urge to know just how soft her lips were and how they would taste with that little bit of mustard in the corner.

“It is if you call it tenacity.” He’d tried every avenue to get justice for Nisha, and now that a door had opened, he was going to do everything in his power to get that contract. Nothing was going to stop him.

She tipped her head to the side. “That was very insightful.”

“You sound surprised.”

“It wasn’t what I was expecting from a man who knows twenty different ways to say sex.”

Sam preened. “That’s nothing compared to the number of ways I know of having sex.”

“Lucky thing you’re not a Giants fan,” she teased. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

“Yes,” he said as she licked the mustard off her lips. “Lucky.”

• 8 •

“BETA! We brought food.”

Layla’s heart skipped a beat when she heard Taara Auntie’s voice in the hallway. She bolted out of her desk and ran over to Daisy. “Sam is going be back any minute. I can’t let them know I’m working alone in an office with a handsome, single man.”

“If you hadn’t turned down Bachelor #3, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Daisy said. “You’d be engaged to Tarak the firefighter and writing wedding invitations to all his single firefighter friends so I could get laid.”

“He showed up in sweatpants and a rugby jersey and he was obsessed with sports.” Layla’s pulse kicked up a notch as she contemplated how to avoid the auntie invasion. “He said he has a TV in every room of his house including the bathrooms so if he has to get off the couch he doesn’t miss a second of his game. He wanted me to send draft menus of the food I planned to make for his sports championship parties: Super Bowl, Stanley Cup, World Cup . . . He boasted about all the famous players he knows. He offered to give me autographed balls.”

“I’d like to receive autographed balls.” Daisy snickered.

“Beta!” The sound of chappals thudding on wood grew louder. The Indian leather handcrafted slippers were useful both for walking and discipline, although it had been years since her parents had threatened her with a flying chappal.

Her heart pounded. There was nothing she could do. They knew she was here. She just had to get them out before Sam came back.

Max ran to the door, barking in excited anticipation. He knew when Taara Auntie was around, there would be human-size portions of food for him.

“There you are. And Daisy’s here, too!” Taara Auntie walked in carrying a giant plastic container. “Good thing I made enough to share.”

Salena Auntie came in next with Lakshmi Auntie behind her. Layla gave them each a hug. In their jewel-tone salwar suits, they brightened up the office. “It’s so nice to see you. I’m afraid I don’t have much time. I’ve got—”

“A bucket, I hope,” Salena Auntie whispered in her ear. “That stuff is toxic. I had a spoon of it this morning and only now I was able to leave the restroom.”

“I’ve never been up here before.” Taara Auntie sidestepped them and walked into the office. “Nice and bright. Very modern. Which desk is yours?”

“That one.” She pointed to the Eagerson.

“And who works at the other desk?”

“Uhhhh . . .”

“I do.” A sly, wicked smile spread across Daisy’s face. “I was sitting at the reception desk in case a client came in.” She picked up Max and carried him to Sam’s desk. “But here I am at my desk with its neat little rows of pencils and tidy little piles of paper and perfectly organized files.”

Layla’s skin prickled in warning. “Daisy . . . Maybe you shouldn’t—”

“But what was I thinking?” Daisy brushed a hand over the pencils, scattering them across the desk. “It’s much too tidy. I can’t work like this.” With another sweep, she spread the papers and files, spilling some on the floor. Max barked in excitement and she let him down to play in the mess.

“How is the business going?” Lakshmi Auntie placed a fishbowl on Layla’s desk. Two little goldfish darted in and out of a pink castle and a few plastic plants.

“Not so great.” Layla sighed. “I’m getting lots of calls from people looking for work, thanks to the family spreading the word, but no interest from the companies I need to hire them. I’ve been cold-calling every day, but the employers I’ve targeted are either using online services or they’re working with other agencies. It’s only been two weeks, but I thought things would be going better by now.”

“Do you tell them who you are?” Taara Auntie asked. “Who wouldn’t want to hire the daughter of two Michelin-starred chefs?”

“I do mention it sometimes, but it hasn’t helped.”

Lakshmi Auntie patted her arm. “Don’t call on Tuesdays, Thursdays, or Saturdays. Those are bad-luck days. And wear a black thread around your wrist when you call.”

“Superstitious nonsense.” Salena Auntie shook her head. “How is she supposed to run a business when she can only make calls for half the week?”

Lakshmi Auntie shrugged. “I didn’t make the rules, but I did bring her a pair of fish for good luck.”

“Thank you, Auntie-ji.” She leaned over to give her aunt a kiss.