Accidentally Engaged

by Farah Heron

  “Tanzania originally, but I went to school in the UK.”

  “You and Reena have such a fascinating background. You know, we were in Turkey recently, and there was a mosque—”

  “Ma, give ’em a minute to get in the door before bringing out the vacation pictures. Where’s Dad?”

  “In the barn, feeding the princesses,” she told Duncan. “I’ll put another pot of coffee on. Make yourselves at home.” She smiled as she headed back into the kitchen.

  “Princesses?” Nadim questioned as they made their way back outside.

  “The goats,” Reena responded. “Careful with your fingers. Apparently they nibble.”

  They found Doug in the barn. A strapping man with brown hair, he looked like he’d lived his life on this farm. After introducing himself, the princesses, and a Labrador retriever named Whiskey, Doug started chatting with his son about plans for upgrades to the building and the chicken coops, while Nadim scratched the dog behind his ears.

  He dropped to his knees to get closer. “I miss my dogs in Africa. We always had German shepherds. Technically guard dogs, but they were always such sweethearts.” Interesting. Reena hadn’t been allowed a dog growing up.

  A loud voice from outside prevented her from analyzing this new information. “This place is cuter than a Fisher-Price farm.”

  Reena laughed. “Sounds like Shayne and Marley made it.”

  After another round of introductions and a round of coffee served with homemade muffins, they were finally able to set up the barn. Doug found a large wooden folding table, which they placed in the middle of the room and covered with a cream linen tablecloth. A single-burner butane stove would suffice for cooking the egg curry, and Reena had brought her enormous wood chopping board for food prep. Marley added a few artfully arranged kitchen tools she snagged from Shirley’s kitchen and some cut flowers in old pottery, while Shayne plugged in the studio lights.

  “Ready,” he said. “Go change, and then we can start initial shots of you two with the chickens and goats before we start cooking.”

  For Nadim’s outfit, they’d picked a cream cable-knit fisherman’s sweater and paired it with his well-worn jeans. For Reena, dark skinny jeans and gray boots (thankfully her own this time), paired with a subtly embroidered teal cotton kurta-style top and a worn gray denim jacket. After a quick touch-up of makeup and a de-frizz of her hair, they were ready.

  “Action!” Shayne yelled once they were in place.

  “Howdy, folks!” Nadim said with a definite country drawl. Reena raised one brow at him.

  “What?” he said, clearly hamming a bit for the camera. “When in Rome, right?”

  “We’re not in Rome,” Reena said, looking directly at the camera. “But we are far from home! First, thank you to all the viewers who voted for us in round one. We’re excited to be in round two because the theme is farm-to-table!”

  “So, we put a big table in the middle of a farm!” Nadim said, cheerily. “My beautiful bride-to-be here is going to teach me how to make a dish my grandmother made for me as a child—Zanzibar egg curry. But first, I’m going to teach her how to collect fresh eggs.”

  “Wait, you’re going to teach me what? I thought the farm people would just…give us eggs.” She now questioned Nadim’s insistence that they not rehearse this bit. She didn’t know she’d have to touch chickens. “How do you know how to collect eggs?”

  “I’m a renaissance man. C’mon.” He picked up a basket and motioned her over to the corner of the barn where the chickens were. Shayne followed, carrying the camera.

  “My boarding school in England had a chicken coop. We used to gather eggs all the time. It’s easy. Here, I’ll bet this pretty lady has an egg or two under her.”

  Reena frowned, looking at the pretty lady in question. A shiny black bird with angry eyes and a red comb on her head, she was sitting in one of the nest boxes, scowling at them. At least that’s what it looked like. Unless she had resting-bitch chicken face.

  “There are eggs here. We don’t have to bother her,” Reena said, indicating the neighboring chicken-less nest box, which had a few eggs nestled in hay in it. She picked up one gingerly and placed it in Nadim’s basket.

  “Her name’s Agatha,” Duncan called out from behind Shayne.

  “Cut!” Shayne turned and glared at Duncan. “Can you maybe, not, speak when I’m filming?”

  Amira laughed loudly, pulling Duncan further away from the others.

  “I thought you’d need the chicken’s name,” Duncan said. “Careful, though. Agatha’s a bit frisky.”

  Reena put her hand on her hips and turned to Nadim. “See! That’s why you shouldn’t stick your hand under her butt.”

  “Oh, I am absolutely not sticking my hand under her butt. You are.”

  Before Reena could object again, Shayne yelled, “Action!”

  “It’s easy,” Nadim said. “Just reach under her and take out the egg. She won’t bite.”

  “She probably will bite,” Duncan yelled from the other end of the barn. Shayne motioned for Duncan to shut it but didn’t stop filming.

  “If she does bite, it won’t hurt. Just a peck. Trust me,” Nadim said.

  Reena reached in. “Okay. I’m not going to hurt you, Agatha,” she murmured, skimming the bird’s soft plumage. “I just want your egg…you don’t need it. It’s not fertilized so I’m not stealing your baby. Just slide over a bit and—”

  It was at that moment that Reena began questioning her life’s choices. Because being recorded for a national cooking show while getting pecked at with vigor by an angry chicken named Agatha, while her fake fiancé/real boyfriend howled in laughter seemed like a situation that could have been avoided with a bit of forethought.

  Shayne finally took some pity on Reena and yelled, “Cut! That was awesome footage! Let’s move on to cooking.”

  Reena rubbed her hand. Nadim had been honest, at least. It didn’t really hurt that much. Only her pride was wounded.

  “Let me just get the eggs.” Nadim reached into Agatha’s box and pulled out two eggs. “Thanks, beautiful.” He put the eggs in the basket and rubbed the chicken on her back. Agatha practically cooed.

  Figured. That irresistible charm even worked on chickens.

  He kissed Reena’s cheek. “And thanks for being such a good sport, even more beautiful.”

  And Reena cooed probably more than the damn chicken.

  No one was pecked or injured in the cooking segment, much to Reena’s relief. Nadim diced the onions, then peeled the potatoes and hard-boiled eggs while Reena explained to the camera the origins of the egg curry they were preparing.

  She then dry roasted and pounded the spices, while Nadim talked about spice farms in Zanzibar, and his grandmother’s home there.

  “I’ve always wanted to go,” Reena said.

  “I’d love to take you. The sunsets are incredible. The markets in old town are so charming, and the spice farms! You’d be in heaven. That’s it, honeymoon decided. What do you say?” He winked at her.

  Reena didn’t know if the wink was a reminder to her that this was all fake. If it was, she didn’t need it. Nothing that felt this good could really happen to her.

  “That would be perfect,” she said. “Here, taste.” Tearing off a small piece of flaky paratha, she used it to break open the egg and scoop a bite with a little egg, potato, tomato, and fed it into Nadim’s willing mouth. He smiled as the flavors hit his tongue.

  “Well,” she said, bumping her hip on his thigh, “how did I do? Does it taste like your grandmother’s back home?”

  “No,” he said, grinning. “Better. It tastes like my new home.” He looked to the camera and hammed it up a bit more. “Local ingredients married perfectly with my beloved African spices. Maybe home is not just one place, but a moving target. Home is where I’m welcomed. And right now, I’ve never felt more welcomed than right here.” He planted a quick kiss on Reena’s lips, before turning to face the camera again. “Thank you!”
>
  Reena waved at the camera as she rested her head on Nadim’s arm. “Bye!”

  “Cut!” Shayne said.

  * * *

  A few hours later, Reena sat alone on the bed in the guest room at Amira and Duncan’s house. She’d escaped supposedly to change into a more comfortable shirt, but she couldn’t muster up enough energy to lift her arms over her head. Amira, Duncan, Nadim, Marley, and Shayne were all downstairs, crowding around Shayne’s laptop, watching him do his editing magic with the footage from the farm. The bits Reena saw before she had to leave the room were amazing. Perfect. The food looked divine, the scenery breathtaking, and even Agatha the chicken attacking her was charming. Reena and Nadim looked so happy and so in sync with each other. Aspirational. Everyone would want to be the couple on the screen.

  And it disturbed her that she desperately wanted to be them, too.

  “Hey. Ree. You okay?” Amira stood in the doorway.

  “Yeah.” Reena ran her fingers over her hair. “I’m fine.”

  Amira smiled gently and came into the room. She sat on the bed with Reena.

  “You guys looked great on the screen. This one turned out even better than the last one,” Amira said.

  Reena shrugged. “I know. But man, watching that messed with my mind.”

  “Hearing him say you feel like home?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “The first one stung to watch because it seemed real, even though we weren’t actually together. He’s a good actor. This time…” Her voice trailed off.

  “This time all that talk might be real.”

  “Yep.”

  Amira was silent a moment. “What’s next?”

  “If we move on, we go to the FoodTV studio.”

  “You are moving on. Seriously. The Jeffs have nothing on you.”

  Reena shrugged.

  “What, you don’t want to go to the studio? You wanted this.”

  “I know. I do. It’s just…” She sighed. “I know we’re supposed to be just casually ‘dating’ and not seriously committed, but this damn contest is making it feel so much more real. And we’ve only done short videos. If we go to the studio, we’ll have to pretend for longer and in front of real people. I’m not sure I can recover from that.”

  “Do you want to be seriously committed?”

  “I don’t know. Even if I did, it’s impossible. Those two on the screen have a happy, loving relationship with a full life in front of them. They don’t have our…crap.”

  “Everyone has crap. Life is full of piles and piles of shit. I told you last night about everything Duncan and I still deal with.”

  “I know.”

  “But the difference is, we let each other see the shit.”

  “This metaphor is getting a little gross.”

  Amira laughed. “Reena, this could work for you! Watching you two together, the way he looks at you. It’s not like any of your other relationships. And I think you know that. But I can’t be the only person in the world who gets to see you…all of you. You won’t scare him away.”

  Wouldn’t she, though? The Reena she let people see enjoyed drinks at the bar, fresh bread at home, and no drama. Who’d want the real Reena—the neurotic mess with maladaptive coping skills? Who couldn’t manage to keep a job she hated? With a family who never, ever let her be free. None of the other twelve guys had been interested in sticking around once her true self began to emerge.

  Amira didn’t say anything for a while as she looked at Reena with a soft expression. “Reena, are you in love?”

  Loaded question. She didn’t know if she even knew the answer to that one.

  She squeezed her lips together. “I don’t know.”

  “I know your impulse is always to deflect and distract, but I think you need to stop doing that. Give him a chance. Give yourself a chance.” Amira took both Reena’s hands in her own. “You deserve it. Even though I know you don’t think you do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  One week later Reena was still no closer to gainful employment. She didn’t hear about the Top Crust job, but she also didn’t hear from her mother about her unemployment or Mum’s covert gambling habits, so Reena considered it a draw.

  Nadim still came straight to Reena’s apartment every day after work to kiss her with knee-weakening intensity, before retreating to his place to change clothes. They ate dinner together every night and cooked together several times. And each night was spent together in his bed. Reena swore she’d lost three pounds thanks to bedroom exertions alone, and her skin had never been clearer. In fact, she’d wondered what she’d been thinking when she’d decided that celibacy was a good idea—her body and her mind were just kinder to her when she was sexually satiated.

  But, of course, she and Nadim didn’t talk. Not really. Not about the past, or the future. Amira’s voice in her ear was persistent in reminding her that all this was wrong. It was wrong to spend so much time with him without ever talking about their future. It was wrong to sleep with him every night without knowing how he really felt about her.

  It was wrong to be in love with him without ever telling him. If she was in love, that is. She honestly didn’t know.

  But if Reena was good at anything, it was ignoring the voices in her head that told her the path she was on was covered with snakes that would bite her in the ass one day.

  Late Thursday night they were in bed when a Google Alert told her the standings after the farm-to-table round were live. The video had gone up Monday morning, and there had been three days of voting. She opened the page right away.

  Nadim leaned over her, practically blocking her view of the phone in her hand. “What does it say? Are we getting an all-expenses-paid trip to Toronto this weekend?”

  “Did you forget we live in Toronto?”

  “Shush. We’d still be getting a night in a posh hotel downtown. Did we make it? I want that FoodTV studio tour!” He tried grabbing the phone out of her hand.

  She swatted him away. “You’re like a toddler sometimes.”

  “Half hour ago, you said I was all the man you wanted.” He crowded up against her, deliberately pressing his hardening penis against her leg.

  Yum.

  “If you had faster Wi-Fi, this conversation wouldn’t be happening and we’d already know if we made it to the next round,” she said.

  He looked at her with that mischievous grin that was too damn appealing. “You’re right,” he said, plucking her phone out of her hand. “Which leads me to wonder if this time waiting for it to load would be better spent.” He tossed the phone to the other side of the bed and lowered his lips to hers.

  It was a good while before Reena managed to actually check the standings. But she wasn’t complaining. And she certainly wasn’t complaining when she saw they were in second place, only a dozen votes below the Jeffs. They were moving on to the semifinals.

  * * *

  Marley dressed Reena simply for the studio, a pink T-shirt and long yellow pleated skirt with platform sneakers. Thankfully, it was still unseasonably warm for late September, and the skies were a perfect blue again. Ideal picnic weather. Reena had been a complete ball of nerves leading up to the day, but Nadim’s firm hand on the small of her back gave her the strength she needed as they walked into the low-rise TV studio downtown. After checking in at security, they were led to an outdoor courtyard space behind the building. A handsome man dressed completely in black and wearing an audio headset greeted them.

  “Reena and Nadim! Welcome! Wow, you two have the exact same energy you have in your videos. Makes our job easy, to be honest.” The man was East Asian and had unbridled enthusiasm along with high cheekbones and full lips. Reena liked him instantly. “I’m Anderson Lin,” he said. “So great to finally meet you.”

  Tic Tac ears! Reena grinned, struggling to resist conspicuously looking at the man’s earlobes. Then she remembered that this delightful young thing had dumped Shayne, which meant she had also had to start resisting the urge to outwardly glare a
t him.

  Nadim, thankfully, had no scruples and behaved like a perfect gentleman. “We’re thrilled to be here!” He shook Anderson’s hand. “I never imagined we would get this far when we made that drunken bhajias video.”

  “That video was epic,” Anderson said. “I can’t believe it was unplanned. You two were made for the screen. Let me take you to meet the other contestants. Then we’ll get you set up at your station.”

  The courtyard wasn’t huge, but it was full of people and camera equipment. Four small cooking stations had been set up in the middle of the space, each with a two-burner cooktop and a gas grill. Off to the side, big tables were piled high with ingredients for the challenge. Reena peeked and saw pretty much what they’d told her to expect. Fruits, vegetables, and several different cuts of meat.

  The other three pairs who had made it to the semifinals were the Jeffs, the front-runners from Winnipeg; Nate and Amanda, a Black couple from a small town north of Vancouver; and Luc and Renée, a white francophone couple from suburban Montréal. Reena had been pleased when she saw who was in the semifinals, although a touch disappointed for Hala and Maya, the Syrian mother-and-daughter team, who were also from Toronto.

  The others were as nice and supportive and pleasant as they had been in their videos. After a bit of small talk with them, Anderson brought Reena and Nadim to their station.

  “We’ll go over the rules for everyone in just a minute, but first Lana will be coming by with a makeup kit. She’ll do a quick touch-up—these high-definition cameras can be a little uncharitable, so you’ll want powder.”

  Anderson suddenly stepped closer to Reena and Nadim. “But while we’re alone…I know this is a bit awkward…I am not sure you know that I know…actually used to date your friend Shayne.”

  Shit. This was it. The end of the charade. Anderson, of course, knew Shayne and knew this engagement was fake. Damnit. Why hadn’t she anticipated this? Reena tensed, not sure if it would be better to come clean, or to double down. Nadim put his arm around her waist. It appeared he intended to double down.