by Leslie North
“You’re even more punctual than usual,” Nasir commented, unfolding his napkin over his lap. “What’s the news?”
“How can you tell that I have some?” Veeda winked, sipping at her water.
“You’re positively radiant. Now share.”
“I’ve met someone.” She leaned over the table, wiggling her eyebrows. “The matchmaking services work.”
Nasir’s eyes widened. “Really? You’ve finally found that elusive perfect man?”
Veeda nodded, slapping her palm against her menu. “And do you know what, Nasir? He’s not even a businessman.”
Nasir almost choked on his water. Now that seemed terribly unlikely, from what he knew of Veeda. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I thought this guy would have been the CEO of Google or something.”
She shook her head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Nope, he’s a college professor. His name is Oscar. He’s so sensitive and funny and…” She trailed off into a sigh. “I think I already love him.”
Nasir smiled wanly. Yeah, he knew that feeling. It must be nice to be able to relish it, instead of having the other person storm away and act as if passion were the plague.
A waiter approached to take their order. Nasir ordered the first thing he saw—a BBQ chicken Cobb Salad—and passed off his menu.
“I’m happy for you, Veeda.” He reached out to squeeze her wrist. She patted the top of his hand, some of the joy ebbing from her face.
“Now what about you?” She sat back into her seat, her tone reminding him of the kind he used in board meetings to move to the next agenda point. “Any luck at all?”
“I’ve been on ten dates,” Nasir confessed, rubbing his thumb over the bright polished handle of his spoon. “No luck.”
Veeda creased a brow. “Not even a little bit of maybe?”
“There’s just no spark. They’re all fine women…but…it hasn’t been the same as…”
“As that one woman you told me about?”
Nasir nodded, unable to meet her gaze. The whole thing sounded even stupider than it felt on the inside. Couldn’t he give up Cassandra’s ghost by now? “Right. Her.”
“Nasir.” Veeda’s sharp tone made him jerk his gaze up to meet hers. “May I share something with you?”
“Of course.”
“We’re talking about the person you might very well spend the rest of your life with.” Veeda pursed her lips. “Why keep trying if you’ve already found her?”
“Well, she doesn’t want me. So I have to keep trying.” Furthermore, his genius idea to resubmit his profile in the matchmaking system seemed to have resulted in a dead end. All it got him was a confused call from his new matchmaker, wondering if he was still happy with their services. He wanted to scream at her, Doesn’t this profile describe someone you work with?
“Does she really not want you? Or have you just not tried hard enough?” Veeda cocked a brow, a knowing smile emerging. “I’ve gotten to know you in these couple of months we’ve been getting lunch together. You made it sound like a professional issue kept you two apart, but is that really such a big deal when we’re talking about true love?”
Nasir cleared his throat. “I never said I was in love with anyone.”
“You didn’t need to. It’s love when you can’t move on from a girl even after trying for months.” Veeda looked extremely pleased with herself.
“Well, I can’t do anything about it. The professional issue is still at play. I’ve tried to be subtle, but—”
“Screw subtle,” Veeda said, flicking her hand in the air, as if brushing away that disgusting word. “Women don’t want subtle. She’s not part of a negotiation in a board room.” She leaned forward, voice lowering. “Tell me who this woman is.”
A grin flickered at Nasir’s lips. “Why?”
“I have to know. The professional part makes me curious. Is she your secretary?”
Nasir shook his head. “No. I don’t work with her.”
Veeda’s eyes widened. “Then what sort of professional obstacle could there be?”
He sighed. “It’s…different.” He struggled with a way to reveal her identity without saying her name.
“Come on. Tell me.”
He crumbled. “It’s one of the matchmakers at the agency.”
Veeda gasped, and then giggled a little. “Which one?”
“Cassandra.” He stared across the restaurant, clenching and unclenching his fists under the table.
Veeda let out a low whistle, one that made his stomach drop. “Well. I can see why that would be a problem for you.”
Defensiveness licked through him. He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Falling in love with a woman who’s expecting,” Veeda said, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. She leaned back in her chair, signaling for a waiter, while the news settled inside him, gathering into strange clumps that bobbed and bothered him.
“What do you mean ‘expecting’?” The word felt funny on his tongue.
“Expecting a baby.” She smiled as a waiter approached and ordered two glasses of Pinot Grigio. To Nasir, she said, “We should have some wine.”
Nasir swallowed a sick taste in his mouth, staring at the tablecloth like maybe there was an answer somewhere in the linen.
“I haven’t seen her in a couple months,” he finally forced out. “I…I had no idea.”
“She’s been matching me. She helped me find my Oscar.” She smiled sweetly. “She definitely has a baby on the way. However, I don’t think you should let that deter you. She’s not married. Maybe she just had, oh, I don’t know—a visit to the sperm bank?”
“I assume you mean metaphorically,” he said, receiving the glass of wine from the waiter.
“No, I mean literally. Maybe she got pregnant the scientific way. Visiting a sperm bank and picking the best candidate.”
He gave a terse sigh. It might be better than the alternative, which was that she had a boyfriend whose child she was carrying, and he had no idea. “I doubt that.”
Veeda got quiet, sipping at her wine with narrowed eyes sizzling on him. “Why?”
He shook his head. Best not to go down that route. “No reason.”
Veeda stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, eyeing him. “‘No reason,’ huh? Did you two sleep together?”
Nasir studied the far wall of the restaurant, trying to keep his expression cool, collected. “Does it matter?”
She grinned like a devil. “You did.”
“So?”
The silence stretched long and taut between them, his heart pounding in his ears.
Veeda shrugged, eyes glinting like she’d just cracked the code. “Maybe it’s yours.”
The words thundered through him, fire-hot and electric, reaching all the way to his bone marrow with the secret whisper, “That’s what it is.”
He riveted his gaze on Veeda, his voice drying to nothing.
Cassandra was pregnant. And it was either his or it wasn’t. But in order to find out, he had to do the thing he’d been sidestepping for months: cause a scene. Declare himself. Make sure he broke down whatever barrier it was that kept her from following what felt right. Risk upsetting Cassandra, or even making her hate him.
Because Veeda was right—screw being subtle. If Cassandra was pregnant with his child, then he had to work not only fast, but creatively.
15
Cassandra wasn’t even fifteen minutes into her Wednesday morning, barely out of the shower, before her work e-mail dinged with a new arrival. She wrapped a towel around her body, using another to pat her hair dry, as she checked out her laptop screen from behind the couch.
New e-mail: Nasir Azhar.
She gasped, leaning closer to re-read it. To make sure it wasn’t a mistake. Why would Nasir be e-mailing her? Her heart raced as she scooted around the couch to open the message, nearly breathless as she waited for it pop up.
Dear Cassandra,
I’m writing to let you know that I think I’ve found th
e one. Yes, at last! I would like to extend a formal invitation to meet with you for lunch or dinner, to celebrate the good news. Your colleagues at the agency told me this was customary, and I am absolutely one to uphold customs. Please allow me one last appointment to personally thank you for your time and assistance in this grand endeavor. I could not be more grateful for your input and insight in the early stages. Please respond at your earliest convenience with your availability.
Regards,
Nasir
Cassandra’s heart thudded like a bass drum between her ears. She blinked a few times, letting the sad news sink in, questions and doubts springing to life, like dandelions in bloom. Who could it have been? Laura didn’t mention a successful match since his new profile. You never even looked at the profile. Nasir is officially gone.
She blinked out a tear, wiping it away before it could crest her cheek, and clicked reply. The blank e-mail stared at her, urging her to respond. But what could she say?
Meeting up with him was practically impossible. If she met with him, he’d see that she was pregnant, and if he saw that, she’d have to explain something. Maybe not that he was the father, but some story, the one she just couldn’t come up with. Turning him down was akin to poor customer service, especially if he’d already contacted her higher-ups about proper protocol. Maybe she could schedule the thank-you dinner in six months…after she’d given birth and her belly was back to normal proportions?
Ridiculous. But maybe there was still a way out.
She grabbed for her phone, dialing Laura’s work number. Laura picked up on the second ring. “Morning, early bird.”
“Same to you.” She was already breathless. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”
“What?”
“Will you attend a thank-you dinner in my place for a former client?”
Laura’s end was quiet for a long time. When she spoke, she sounded suspicious. “Who is it, and why?”
Cassandra grimaced. “Nasir Azhar.”
Laura groaned. “No way! You’ve gotta be kidding me. I can’t attend in your place, because I’m also scheduled for one with him. I can’t show up to that and say, ‘Oh, by the way, this counts for both of us’!”
Cassandra sighed, letting her eyes flutter shut. “You’re right.”
“What’s the big deal, anyway? You love these thank-you dinners. Just go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
Cassandra nibbled at the inside of her cheek, debating how much longer she could really go on hiding the truth. “I’m pregnant.”
Laura gasped. “You are? That’s so exciting!”
Cassandra smiled briefly. “Thanks.”
“Congratulations, girl! Oh, my gosh, when are you due? And who’s the father? When did you find out? Are you going to have a baby shower? What about finding out the sex, will you do that, too?”
Cassandra grimaced, bringing a hand to her belly. “Laura, I promise I will answer all of these questions for you…but first…just tell me…as a friend, please meet with Nasir in my place.”
“Why would Nasir care if you’re pregnant?”
Cassandra stayed quiet, struggling to find an answer that might be even halfway believable. “I…”
“Listen, have you taken a look at that new profile I sent you a few days ago?”
Casandra wilted, thankful she’d chosen to sit down for this conversation. “No, I haven’t. Why?”
“Look at it. Now.”
Cassandra pushed herself up, barely able to maneuver the mouse to the appropriate e-mail. Everything blurred before her eyes. How had she gotten into this mess? Everything would have been fine if she’d just…not gone to that damn wedding. “Okay. Opening it now.”
She clicked through the download process, Laura’s soft hum the only thing she could hear over the throbbing of her heart. When the new profile sprang open on the screen, Cassandra scanned it quickly, desperate to find what made it so relevant suddenly, eyes careening without really taking anything in.
“Do you see?” Laura asked.
Cassandra tutted, scrolling further. He’d modified his preferences for hobbies, work ethic, religion, and interests. Toward the bottom, she glanced at the physical attributes section, was just about to open her mouth when she noticed a few potential match profiles attached.
All of them were blonde-haired, blue-eyed cuties who looked strangely similar to her.
Cassandra’s mouth fell open. “Okay.”
“Now. Are you pregnant with Nasir’s baby?”
Cassandra pinched her eyes shut. It was now or never. “Yes.”
Laura squealed. “Oh, my god your kids are gonna be so cute!”
“Don’t say that. I can’t…I’m not sure I should say—“
“If you’re pregnant with his kid, you have to say something,” Laura interjected.
“But it will just derail his life. And mine,” Cassandra said, flipping through the pictures of the potential matches again. There was no mistaking it. Nasir had revised his profile in a huge way. “The last thing I want to do is be in a loveless relationship only because there’s a kid involved. That’s no way to live a life. My parents tried it, and trust me, I can tell you it doesn’t work, not even a little bit.”
Laura sighed. “Right. But it’s not fair if you don’t even try.”
“Why would I try?”
Laura tutted. “Did you even look at the profile?”
“I’m a little worked up right now,” she said, tucking her legs under her. “It’s hard for me to focus.”
“I get it. But listen. This is an opportunity more than anything. You haven’t even tried it with Nasir to know it won’t work. So why don’t you just give it a shot? Trying it doesn’t mean forever. You already know what doesn’t work…why would you sacrifice the chance of a happy family?”
“Fine, let’s say I do take that risk. Then I’ll lose my job.” Cassandra’s throat tightened with the arrival of tears.
Laura paused. “You’re right. And time will tell how that plays out. But, come on. Between the two—happy family or a job—is there even a choice?”
Cassandra wiped away another tear that spilled. “I want a happy family. I really do. But if I risk the job, and then also don’t get the happy family…” Her voice came out a whisper. “Where does that leave me?”
Laura let out a small noise of sympathy. “Oh, honey.”
“I think it’s smarter to cut my losses. Keep the job, and just…get over the rest. Get over him.” Her throat tightened again.
“But that’s no way to live,” Laura warned. “You’re so afraid of reliving your parent’s misery, you’re pushing yourself to a new extreme. Listen, I’ll back you up no matter what happens. When it breaks that you hooked up with a client—which, I mean, we both know it will—I will do everything I can to defend you, and make sure this goes down well. But I just can’t watch you throw away this chance for…what? Because you let fear rule your decisions?”
Cassandra nodded, wiping away more tears. “I know.”
“At least tell him the baby is his,” Laura insisted. “He deserves to know, and your baby deserves his support.”
Cassandra leaned her head against the back of the couch, letting the idea meander through her mind, like a foreign-exchange student seeing LA for the first time. “I’ll think about it.”
Laura huffed. “Fine. But call me later so we can talk about the baby more! I’m here for anything you need. And I’m not covering you for this dinner. I say that because I love you.”
Cassandra hung up the phone, vision hazy through the tears. Her limbs were leaden and dull, and all she wanted was to curl into a ball on the couch and cry until some of the ache dissipated. And more than that, she wanted Nasir to come to her, to hold her like she imagined he would, full of tenderness and strong arms and reassuring words.
She’d been imagining every facet of him as a partner and lover since the day she stormed out of his apartment. It seemed that every c
entimeter her belly grew, so did her desire for the father.
She sniffed hard, wiping away the tears, sitting up so she could scroll through her work e-mails. At Nasir’s e-mail, she hit “Reply” before she could think better of it and typed the first thing that came to mind.
“Thank you for the invitation. Can we do tonight at 7:30?”
She sent it before she could change a single thing and then crumpled back onto the couch, hugging her knees to her body, trying to keep the excitement inside her from turning into fear.
16
Cassandra fiddled with the fabric of her flowy dress in the backseat of the rideshare. She’d stressed over this choice for what felt like hours, hemming and hawing between something that hid her bulging belly or something that accentuated it. Because what if she didn’t find the courage to admit it to him? She might very well chicken out.
So she’d chosen flowy. She gnawed at her lip as the car slowed in front of a low storefront, painted matte black and sporting a cut-steel sign on top that read “Vertigo.” She hopped out of the taxi, approaching the front door nervously, wondering if Nasir was on the other side of those tinted, reflective windows.
She tugged on the handle of the door, and it didn’t budge. Panic sneaked into her, permeated every limb. Questions flooded her, rendering her almost paralyzed. What the fuck is going on? She tried the door again—stuck. Locked. Closed.
She stepped back from the door to re-examine the windows, searching for some sign that this wasn’t the right place. Maybe she’d gotten the address wrong. She dug her phone from her purse, fumbling with it to open the e-mail from Nasir telling her where to go and at what time. Was she here on the wrong day? If Nasir was at the helm of this, he couldn’t have made a mistake so large. Her heart pounded as she reread the address, then looked up to confirm it.
The front door jiggled, and then it cracked open. A man poked his head out.
“Are you Cassandra?”
Relief blossomed inside her, and she nodded, finding her voice suddenly gone.
“I was expecting you. Follow me.”
She stepped inside the restaurant cautiously, finding the inside mostly dark and quiet. If this was a restaurant, it was either shut-down or some entirely new concept she’d missed in the lifestyle section. Maybe silence and dark confusion were the newest trends in the eating scene. She followed the man, finding the place modern if completely devoid of guests. Tables sprawled around the main dining room, not set for dinner, the room unlit, the hostess stand abandoned.