“Quiet, please!”

Unbelievably, the noise stopped. “I’ve just come from my father’s room,” Layla said. “He’s doing better, although he tires easily and can’t speak yet. Visits will be limited to five minutes with everyone going in pairs. I’ll hand out numbers. Charu Auntie will be in charge of letting people out.”

“Numbers one and two,” Charu Auntie called out. “Taara, he can’t eat, so put that container away, and don’t even think about putting it in his IV. We want him to live.”

“I’m going to play his favorite Bollywood songs on my phone,” Mehar Auntie said. “Zaina put them on for me. She’s such a smart girl.”

“My boys are top of their classes,” Pari Auntie boasted. “Their teachers say they have never seen such clever, well-behaved children.”

Nira Auntie lifted an eyebrow. “I thought they were suspended for setting fires in the restroom.”

“They were innocent.” Pari Auntie waved a dismissive hand. “But they hang out with such rascals . . .”

Layla knew all about rascals. Sam had barely been in the office in the five days following their moment in the park and the untimely arrival of his girlfriend. Or maybe she was an ex. Not that Layla cared. She’d been having so much fun with Sam that she’d almost forgotten why she’d decided to give up dating in the first place.

But the brutal reminder, along with his absence and the resurgence of the distressing feelings that had led her to toss Jonas’s stuff off the balcony had just reaffirmed her decision to continue with the blind dates. Surely at least one man out of the ten would make a suitable spouse.

“Good job. Your dad couldn’t have done better.” Layla’s mother joined her at the dessert table. Nothing was better in a stressful situation than a plate of Indian treats.

Layla bit into a soft coconut laddu, a round sweet made of coconut cooked with khoya and condensed milk, shaped into round balls and stuffed with almonds and cashews. “Did you talk to the doctor?”

“He said the pacemaker surgery went well, but we have to make sure not to cause him any stress. I told your father everything is fine. The restaurant is fine. Layla is doing well in her new business. Everything is good.”

Layla opened her mouth to tell her mother about her blind dates, and closed it again. She had enough on her plate, and Layla was handling it well enough on her own.

“Yes, that’s right.” She forced a smile. “Everything is good.”

“And soon your father will be home, shouting that someone burned the dal.” She kissed the gold band on her ring finger, a wish for luck.

The tender gesture made Layla’s heart squeeze in her chest. Her parents’ marriage had been arranged, and it was one of the happiest marriages she knew. Her father had once told her the day he met her mother was the best day of his life.

“When did you know you loved Dad?” she asked.

“It was hard at first because we didn’t know each other,” her mother said. “Then we became friends. We started the restaurant together, and shortly after we opened, Dev was born. When he was only two years old, I walked into the kitchen one day and saw your father teaching him how to grind spices. Dev could barely hold the pestle. Your father was so patient and kind. It was such a small thing. But when he looked up and smiled at me, I felt a different feeling. One that I knew would last a lifetime. Love doesn’t always hit like a thunderbolt. Sometimes it can grow quietly in the background until one day you realize it is there.”

“Zaina! Come back with those jalebis!”

Layla caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Zaina raced past, a handful of jalebis clutched in her little fist. Anika was in full pursuit. Layla grabbed for her and lost her balance. She stumbled forward, hit a table, spilling a bowl of kheer as she fell. The rice pudding splashed over her clothes before landing in a puddle on the floor. Undeterred, she jumped to her feet and sprinted after her niece, leaving a trail of rice and pudding behind her.

So much for getting things under control. If this was the best she could do, what chance did she have with her business?

* * *

• • •

“WHAT’S the matter, bhaiya? You’ve been very preoccupied today.”

Sam pulled himself out of his thoughts and forced a smile for his sister. He’d brought her to the hospital for a consultation with the surgeon who had handled her spinal surgery. Although the surgeon had been happy with her progress, he hadn’t been able to tell them if Nisha would ever walk again.

“It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t have to come if you had work to do. I could have managed on my own.”

“The point is, you don’t have to.” His parents were away at a wedding, and he didn’t like the idea of Nisha using the disabled transport service and dealing with the doctor alone. It also gave him an excuse to stay away from the office. Layla deserved an explanation. He just had no idea what he was going to say.

His body knew what his brain was only starting to admit. There was something between them that went beyond a friendly office rivalry or even a game—something real and raw that made him see every one of her blind dates as competition. Something dangerous for a man who couldn’t be trusted to protect the people he loved.

“It sounds like someone’s having a good time.” Nisha smiled as they rounded the corner. “Oh, Sam! They’re playing ‘Choli Ke Peeche’ from Khalnayak! Who would be having a Bollywood party in a hospital?”

“Stop!” A woman yelled. “Zaina! Get back here.”

Seconds later a young girl barreled into Sam, hitting him so hard he staggered back a step. Jalebis scattered over the floor in front of Nisha’s chair. Sam put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to steady her and looked up just as Layla came running down the hall toward them.

“Sam!” She pulled up short, eyes wide. Milky liquid and grains of rice dripped off her Smash Mouth T-shirt, and he threw out a silent plea that she had defaced the logo on purpose.

“Is this yours?” He gently pushed the little girl toward her. He’d managed to avoid Layla since their encounter in the fountain by scheduling back-to-back meetings out of the office, and yet here she was, standing in front of him, covered in rice.

“Yes.” Layla took the little girl’s hand and drew her close. “This is my niece Zaina.”

“I lost my jalebis.” Zaina’s eyes filled with tears.

“You go back into the room and I’m sure Jana Auntie will find you some more.” Layla sent her on her way before bending down to pick up the spilled sweets.