by Alisha Rai
She knocked, then realized there was a doorbell. She started to reach for it when the door swung open.
The picture hadn’t done Dev’s niece justice. The young teen was taller than Jia, and wildly beautiful. Her hair was shorter now than it had been in the photo, and the look suited her, made her riotous curls pop. She wore black jeans and a T-shirt, both ripped and ragged looking, but in that way only expensive rips and ragged hems could look. Her skin was a deep, dark brown and glowed from health and good genes. Her lashes were naturally long, her face round and sweet.
Jia shifted when the girl continued to stare at her in silence, her mouth slightly agape. “Hi. I’m Jia. I take it you’re Luna?”
The child swallowed. “Yes. You know who I am?”
“Sure thing. Your uncle showed me a picture.” Jia had originally started vlogging for the twentysomethings like herself, but her demographic spanned from ages ten to eighty-three. It had been odd in the beginning, meeting people who watched the nonsense she performed in her bedroom, but now that it was more like a business, it was less weird.
Still, her hands were a little sweaty, meeting Dev’s niece, though she wasn’t sure why. When they continued to stand there, Jia took control. “May I come in?”
Luna shook her head. “Oh. Oh yes! Of course.” She took a step back.
“Thank you.” Jia slipped her shoes off without being asked to, next to the other two pairs that were right by the door.
“Luna? Did you get the door?” An older man came into view. He stopped when he saw her. “Oh.”
Jia inclined her head. “Hello.”
“You must be Jia.” A smile split his still smooth face. “I am Dev’s uncle, Adil.”
Jia’s shoulders immediately relaxed. There was something so kind and welcoming about Dev’s uncle’s manner. “Assalamu Alaikum, Uncle.”
He placed his hand on his chest. “Walaikum Assalam. Come in, come in. Dev is getting dressed, but please come wait in the kitchen. Luna, why don’t you go tell your kaka his friend is here?”
Luna nodded and left, casting inscrutable glances over her shoulder at Jia. Jia scoped out the place while she trailed behind Adil. She only caught a glimpse of the living room before she entered the kitchen. “You’ve really decorated in the little time you’ve been here,” she remarked to Adil.
“It came furnished,” he said. “I am hoping Dev finds a more permanent place soon. This kitchen is fine, but I would prefer more counter space.”
Jia glanced around the kitchen. It was as generic as her staged apartment’s kitchen, but here there was the delicious smell of food cooking, as well as reminders and recipes tacked up on the stainless steel fridge. It was a family kitchen. “It’s nice.”
“Are you hungry? Luna asked for rotis.”
“No, thank you. There will be food at this event.”
Adil nodded. “Please, sit down. Would you like a drink? Let me get you a glass of water.”
Since he’d said it as a statement, not a question, she figured she’d get that water whether she wanted it or not. She took the seat he indicated, at the high countertop, and accepted the water. “Dev didn’t mention that his uncle lived with him.” She immediately wondered if that had come out wrong, but Adil only smiled cheerfully.
Adil returned to his floured work surface and rolled a section of dough into a ball. “I only came to live with him when his brother passed. My wife is gone, as well. It made sense, for two bachelors to be together. Besides, he needed help with Luna. His shooting schedule can be wild.”
There was so much loss in Adil’s voice. “I’m so sorry to hear about your wife. And your nephew.”
Sorrow darkened Adil’s eyes for a second. “We must treasure the time we have. I always felt bad I missed so much of Dev’s life when he was young. I thought it might be nice to return to India for a while. Imagine my surprise when he brought me right back to America.”
“You’re from here?”
Adil brightened, and he rolled out the roti. “In New York. For almost thirty years.”
The way he said it, the way all New York City people said it, made it clear what part of New York he’d lived in. “I’m from upstate.” She was actually from western New York, not upstate, but city folk usually only differentiated between them and everyone else.
“We were neighbors! Small world, yes?”
There was something so hypnotizing about the capable way he handled the rolling pin. “Very small.”
He flipped the roti to the hot pan. “I am aware of the circumstances around yours and Dev’s meeting, Jia.”
So much for her relaxed shoulders. “Oh.”
He cast her a sympathetic glance. “I want to apologize for Rohan and his cousin. I cannot begin to guess what they were thinking. I am glad Dev is making it up to you with an outing tonight.” Adil smiled. “How nice it would be if a friendship could emerge from this mess.”
She busied herself by taking a sip of water. “Yes. Thank you.” She hoped that was all Dev had told his uncle about tonight. Bad enough that anyone else knew about the catfishing; she didn’t want needs a pretend suitor stamped on her list of flaws, too. “It is nice, I suppose.”
Adil slid the roti off the pan onto a plate, buttered it, and placed it in front of her. “Here, eat. You don’t know what they could be serving at this place.”
Jia was too nervous to be hungry, but she didn’t want to insult Dev’s uncle, so she obediently took a bite.
“Jia, you’re early.”
Jia looked up and promptly choked on her roti. She gasped and coughed, even when Adil leaned over to wallop her on her back. She picked up her water and chugged it, then wiped away the tears that had come from her coughing fit. Thank goodness she’d worn waterproof mascara.
While she’d been sputtering, Dev had come to stand a foot or two away from her. He eyed her with concern. “Are you okay?”
She waved his thoughtfulness away. “I’m fine.” Only she was not fine.
He was wearing jeans.
And they looked good on him. Real good. Choke on a roti good.
She’d thought he looked nice in a suit? The denim hugged his thighs and made him even taller. His T-shirt was still a crisp white, but it was definitely more casual than she’d seen him in before, and it revealed his surprisingly muscular biceps.
Jia jerked her eyes to his. She couldn’t be trusted to not look at his butt, and now apparently, she couldn’t be trusted to look at his front. Neck up from now on, that was all. “Hi,” she said weakly.
“Hello. I’m sorry I kept you waiting. You’re early.”
“I am?” Jia glanced at her phone. “Only ten minutes. Occasionally I’m early to things. Don’t get used to it.”
“I wouldn’t dare. You’ve met my uncle, I see.”
“I have.” Jia smiled at Adil. “He was kind enough to give me a snack.”
“Next time, I’ll make you a proper meal,” Adil promised.
Jia wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was there going to be another time that Jia would be at this home to see Adil again? She settled for a polite smile, and picked up the rest of her roti to finish it off.
“What time will you be home?” Luna had slipped into the kitchen so quietly Jia had barely noticed her. She’d carefully directed her question to her uncle.
“Not too late, I don’t think,” Dev responded, and looked at Jia.
Jia shook her head. “Not late at all. The event should be over in a couple of hours.”
Luna looked back and forth between the two of them. “Okay. I hope you two enjoy your . . .”
“Meeting,” Dev said, at the same time Jia said, “Cultural event.”
They both paused and looked at each other. “Uh,” Jia said. “We will, thanks.”
“Luna and I have at least four of our shows to catch up on,” Adil said cheerfully, back to work rolling out rotis. “Take your time while you’re out. We’ll probably both be asleep by the time you get home.”
; Dev nodded. “Luna, when you’re done eating, make sure you finish your homework before you join Adil Uncle for any television.”
“I will. I’m not a kid.”
Jia would have taken Dev for a strict parent, but the fond patience he regarded his niece with at her sharp rebuke told her that was unlikely. Patience and a little bit of flexibility was good, as far as she was concerned. She’d had strict parents, and all it had made her want to do was rebel.
He didn’t kiss or hug Luna, but did lightly pat her shoulder as they passed her. “Of course not. Good night. Good night, Uncle.”
“Your family’s sweet,” Jia said in a low voice as they walked to the door. They both put their shoes on, and Dev grabbed a jacket and a baseball cap from the hall closet. She’d barely exchanged any words with Luna, of course, but the girl had seemed quiet and well-mannered.
“They are, thank you.” He put the jacket on, blessedly covering up those arms she was not looking at.
If only he could do the same with his long legs. That she was not looking at.
They left the apartment and Jia fidgeted with her purse. She was not going to be able to enjoy any part of the evening if she didn’t ask. “So, your uncle mentioned that he knew about the catfishing.”
Dev grimaced. “Yes. He caught me right after I found out. I promise, he would never think less of you for it.”
“I didn’t think he would. But . . . you didn’t tell your uncle about our agreement, did you?”
He glanced at Jia as they entered the elevator. “I would never. He thinks I’m simply trying to make my family’s bad behavior up to you.”
“Okay.” That wasn’t so bad. She nodded at his hat. “Ready to disguise yourself?”
“I am, yes. Though, to be honest, I was surprised anyone wanted to photograph me here to begin with. I was never as much of a target as the others in my family. Until my grandfather and brother were gone, people were usually happy to forget I exist.”
She looked all the way up at his profile. “That seems like it would be hard to do,” she said without thinking.
Dev glanced down at her, and suddenly the elevator seemed a bit too small. She cleared her throat and edged away a little. “I mean, you’re so big.”
He stilled.
“Tall,” she clarified, her cheeks heating up. “Hard to miss.”
“I see,” he murmured. He placed the dark cap over his head. It obscured his face enough that they should slide by without detection. “Hopefully I can make it through this show undetected. It’s an art show we are going to, correct?”
“Yes.” She smiled up at him. “You’ll love it.”
THIS WAS THE oddest art show Dev had ever been to. There was . . . art, yes, though he wouldn’t have thought to call it that. Modern art, as far as he could tell. Sculptures and paintings with blobs of paint on them, and ugly portraits that didn’t look like any human he’d ever met.
There were also pancakes.
Truly, this was the oddest country. “I don’t understand the significance of this,” he murmured to Jia.
She looked up at him. The dim gallery lighting in the warehouse caught the shimmery thread of rose gold in her otherwise plain head scarf. It reminded him of the gold she’d worn when he’d spotted her for the first time. The pink matched the pink of her sweater and shoes and the wash of color over her eyelids. Something about how she color coordinated everything she wore appealed to his structured brain. “The significance of what?”
The line moved, and he automatically moved with it. He jerked his head at the table in front of them. “The pancakes?”
“Oh. It’s a pancake and art show.”
She said that like it was supposed to mean something, and he was still mystified. But they were at the front of the line now, so he couldn’t ask her. “I’ll have chocolate chip pancakes, please,” she said cheerfully.
The man behind the table poured out her pancakes onto one of the electric griddles and looked at him. Dev cleared his throat. “Yes, I shall have the same, thank you.”
He accepted his stack of pancakes on a paper plate when it was finished. He hesitated at the toppings bar, but when Jia liberally doused her pancakes in syrup, he decided to do the same. Damn his carefully constructed diet for the night, he would embrace this American experience. “Is there a place to sit while we eat?”
She paused in taking a selfie of herself with the pancakes. “Oh no. Now we look at the art.”
It took some doing, but he was able to cut through his pancake with his plastic fork after he observed her. He took a bite and nearly moaned at the explosion of sweetness in his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d eaten something as decadent as this. “Delicious.”
“They are pretty good pancakes,” Jia agreed, as they wound through the crowd. Her multi-tasking ability was impressive. She could eat and maneuver around people and use the expensive camera around her neck to film and take photos occasionally. No one glanced twice at them. Dev liked being anonymous, but it was extra nice to be anonymous with Jia.
“Are these common in America? Pancake and art shows?”
“I don’t think so. I accepted the partner request from the gallery ’cause I thought it might be unique.” She stopped in front of a painting with two yellow circles painted under three triangles. “I think this is very brave. Clearly, it’s about how we are forced to live under the tyranny of the ruling class.”
He gave her an incredulous look, and then he caught the twinkle in her eyes. He looked at the painting again, like he was seriously interpreting it. “Agreed, I feel as though it’s an indictment of colonialism and the far-reaching implications of not having self-governance.”
“Ah, how interesting.” Jia shoved a large bite of pancake into her mouth. “What about this one?”
They moved to the left. Behind him, he heard a couple whisper, “Do you see colonialism in this?”
Dev chewed. The canvas had been painted all blue. That was it. One shade of blue. “It’s a commentary on climate change.”
“In favor of or against?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure Jia’s cough was stifling a laugh. His confidence edged a little higher as they moved around the room, both of them trying to outdo the other with pretentious determinations as to the art’s meaning. They got to the last painting. “Breasts,” Jia said, deadpan. “I see breasts.”
The unexpectedly ribald humor surprised Dev so much he snorted out a laugh. She joined him, and he cherished her giggling.
He noticed some dirty looks so he jerked his head at the door. She nodded, that impish gleam still in her eye.
Dev tossed their garbage on the way out and almost placed his hand on Jia’s back to guide her before he caught himself. This had felt so much like a date that he’d forgotten himself. Not that he’d ever had a date that was this much fun, of course. “I enjoyed this, thank you for bringing me. Did you get the footage you needed?”
“Yup. I’m going to cut it in with the intro and outro I filmed today.”
“It’s a good partnership.”
“Some influencers get trips to Aruba. Me, I get the pancakes.”
“I’m sure you’ve been offered Aruba trips before.”
She smiled and stuffed her camera away. “A few. I’m not really a travel vlogger, though, and I’ve never gone anywhere without my family, so I declined those.”
“You’re here without your family,” he pointed out.
“Oh sure. I mean traveling, though, for vacation. I admire people who can go places on their own. I imagined I’d get bored without someone to share it with.”
His filming schedule had been so difficult, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper vacation, but he nodded. Dev had always hated being alone in hotel rooms and new cities. He was a bit of a homebody. “I understand that.”
“Thanks for coming. And for, like, everything.”
He didn’t want Jia’s gratitude, not when he w
as so delighted to even pretend date her. “No thanks necessary.”
They walked in silence for a couple minutes. Dev didn’t know where they were going, but that was okay. There were plenty of people out, and the streets were well-lit, so he didn’t really mind going nowhere. He racked his brain for questions he could ask her. That was the whole purpose of this, right? To get to know her? Not simply to have fun.
Jia beat him to it. “You seem to have a really good relationship with your niece.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. He could thank Luna for inspiring him to dig out these jeans. It felt odd to wear something so casual, but for a second, when Jia had seen him, he’d hoped it had been appreciation he’d spotted in her eyes. “I hope so. We’re making up for lost time.”
“You weren’t close to her before your brother . . .” Jia trailed off.
“No. I only saw her once or twice a year. I mostly heard about her from my grandmother.” He looked down at her. It was odd, talking about anything so personal as his family with someone who was an outsider. Dixit business stayed Dixit business. “How much do you know about my family history?”
“Not much.”
“I mean, did Arjun tell you anything, when you were talking to him? As me?”
“No. He was pretty vague whenever I tried to get personal. For obvious reasons, I see now. It was kind of like everything he said to me was from a script he was tailoring to fit me.”
He let out a half laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing. Only . . . from what I’ve seen, I believe that the words they wrote you were from a script. From Kyunki Mere Sanam Ke Liye Kuch Bhi.”
Jia stopped and faced him. “Are you serious?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t know for sure unless I read the whole exchange. You could redact your responses.” Though it was her responses he really wanted to read. It was another insight into her beautiful mind.
“I don’t know about that.” She made a disgusted face. “Ugh, how was I so easily fooled.”