Cherish Hard
Page 33

Maybe a woman had to make that horrible mistake before she finally learned her lesson.
“Here’s my address.” Sailor tapped it into her phone. “Meet you there in forty minutes?”
When Ísa nodded, he rose, patting the top of her car. “Drive safe, spitfire. We’ll follow you out.”
That strange feeling in her stomach again at the idea of Sailor watching over her.
Ísa didn’t know what to do about it, how to process it.
So she just drove out, waving at Sailor when they split in different directions at the road. Since there was no point going home, she decided to head to a large grocery store that she knew was open till ten. Sailor was fixing dinner, so the least she could do was pick up dessert.
Once inside the brightly lit store, the aisles wide and mostly empty at this time of the evening, she found herself just standing by the row of freezers. Lost. Uncertain. She was never more glad to hear her phone jingle with a cheerful Bollywood song.
“Nayna, I’m so glad you called!”
An older man with a mass of stiff gray hair gave her a censorious look from the ice cream section. As if the grocery store turned into a library at night.
Ignoring him, Ísa walked over to the cheesecake section with the phone to her ear. “Why do you sound like you’re hyperventilating?”
“My parents have set up another date for me—he’s coming by tonight!” Nayna wailed. “I’ve been rethinking the whole arranged-marriage situation, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to my parents. And I just got home and now I can’t get out of this meeting without making them lose face and I’m hiding in the bathroom!”
“You did say today?” It was already past eight thirty.
“In ten minutes! He works long hours too.” Nayna sounded like she was breathing into a paper bag now. “My dad called me at work and told me to be home by eight thirty for a surprise. This isn’t a surprise! It’s a nightmare!”
Ísa forgot about the cheesecake and turned to pace to the other end of the refrigerated-goods aisle. “All right, don’t panic.” She thought quickly. “Just do the same thing you did with the other five. Tell your folks you have nothing in common with him and can’t see a marriage working out.”
“The other five were asses.” More paper-bag breathing. “My family didn’t like them either. What if this guy isn’t an ass and my parents and grandmother love him?” Nayna’s tone was becoming increasingly more agitated. “What if I’m trapped in a marriage I don’t want?”
“Look,” Ísa said to her smart best friend who was usually the most practical and calm person in the room. “This is your life. Your family can’t force you to the altar.”
“I love them, Ísa.” A soft confession. “No matter what, I love them. I can’t be like Madhuri and risk being cut off.”
Ísa understood the complex ties of family and love, understood that sometimes it was impossible not to be bound even when you knew the tie was unhealthy. “How about if…” Ísa snapped her fingers. “Say that during your private talk, you discovered that he’s a little dim in the brain department.”
Ísa felt bad for plotting against some poor, hardworking man, but Nayna came first. “Knowing your folks, he’s likely to have a degree or two, so maybe also hint that perhaps all isn’t kosher there. Or that you got the impression he barely scraped by.”
“Oh God, you’re a genius, Ísa!” The sound of the paper bag being scrunched up. “My parents are already planning for grandchildren with doctorates—a less-than-intelligent son-in-law will not do.”
Having returned to the cheesecake section, Ísa said, “You better go get ready.”
“That won’t take me long. I’m not exactly going to go all out.” Nayna’s tone brightened. “In fact, I think I’ll wear that pale pink outfit that makes me look like a brown wraith. What are you doing?”
“Trying to choose between boysenberry cheesecake and passion fruit cheesecake.”
“Are you eating cheesecake without me?” A glare in the words.
“I’m making a horrible mistake, that’s what I’m doing,” Ísa admitted. “I’m having dinner with Sailor at his place.”
“The hot gardener?”
“Yes.”
“Do it, Ísa.” Nayna’s voice was suddenly quiet, potent. “I’ve played it safe my whole life, and now I feel like I’m going to shatter if I don’t spread my wings. Take a chance. Make that mistake. Even if it hurts… At least you’ll have lived instead of being driven by fear.”
And that was the heart of it: fear.
Of rejection.
Of hurt.
Of not being enough to hold his attention.
* * *
NOT LONG AFTERWARD, RIGHT ON the dot of when she’d promised to meet Sailor, and Ísa still couldn’t believe she was about to do this.
Sailor was just getting out of his truck when she brought her car to a stop on the street outside his apartment. He’d parked on the street too. It looked like his apartment was one of those converted townhouses that didn’t have a garage. Most people who lived in this area likely didn’t care since they worked in the city and didn’t bother to keep a vehicle, but with Sailor…
“Aren’t you worried about your truck?” she asked after stepping out of her own car. “You’ve got equipment in the back.”
He indicated a standalone, old-fashioned garage with a peaked roof that she’d assumed belonged to the neighboring property. “I rent that as well,” he said. “But it’s too old to have an electronic door, so I have to go and push it up before I move my truck inside.”
As she watched, he jogged over to unlock the garage. “Sorry for the wait,” he said after coming back to the truck. “This will only take a minute.”
“I don’t mind,” Ísa said.
Shooting her a smile that made the butterflies in her stomach take flight all over again despite the fear knotted around her spine, he backed his truck expertly into the garage, then got out and locked up.
He was beside her seconds later, his big body making her want to curl into him.
“Let me grab that.” He took the grocery bag she’d been holding. In his other hand, he held a bag filled with what looked like lettuce and possibly cucumbers. “From my mother’s garden,” he said after catching the glance. “She’d kill me dead if I dared buy salad stuff.” Moving both bags to one hand, he took her the three steps to the front door, unlocked it with a key code.
“The place is separated into four apartments,” he told her after following her inside, his hand touching her on her lower back for a moment that made her breath catch. “Honestly, the apartments are a little small, but because they’re so small, the four of us get it for a good rental for this part of town.”
Taking her hand in a warm and callused grip that felt dangerously possessive, he tugged her up the stairs. “Downstairs, both men work for an airline company and are on rotating shifts, so some months I see them, others they’re ghosts. Upstairs, it’s me and a city type whose hours hardly overlap with mine since I start with the light and end with it while he starts and finishes later.”