Since stalking unmoving kanban cards in Asana and sluggishly altered movements in Jira had been driving me nuts, I’d taken up walking along the beaches armed with my water bottle, shades, floppy hat, the highest mineral SPF sunscreen allowed that wouldn’t kill the coral reefs, and this book. It was as bright as the day itself, and almost as hot. Diya, and all those social media readers, weren’t kidding.
I occasionally stopped when I found shade beneath trees to fan myself off and let the ocean spray cool my skin. Or when a dolphin jumped from the ocean far away. Or when a honu beached to get some rest and sun. I was sure to shoo off tourists disturbing any, but most people exercised common sense today.
At some point, I found an empty, shady spot to sit on porous black lava rocks that seemed to sparkle wherever the sun hit. I dipped my toes into the crystal-clear aquamarine water, and sighed, my muscles going slack. Okay, this was nice. Tons of space from others, breathtaking sights of a vast ocean, palm trees to my back, little yellow fish darting around my feet, cold water lapping at my calves, a refreshing breeze, and peaceful solitude.
Quiet was the key to recharging. I was the first to admit that turning my brain off was the hardest thing to do these days. With my phone a protruding rectangular block in my cross-body purse, the temptation to check on work, calls, or texts was ever-looming. And let’s not even think about interview callbacks. On the one hand, I was doing what Gabrielle had nearly begged me to do, which was minding my own nonwork business while away. On the other hand, I was waiting for a text from Mr. Sunshine himself to tell me he’d found a room and would be out of my hair and I’d be off the hook as far as this mad deception went. He’d come clean to his friends. They’d serve a round of pity drinks and solemn pats on the back, or whatever men did to express sympathy with these sorts of things. Then they’d laugh it off and tell him he’d find a woman of his own one day, but honestly not as beautiful and charming as that bewitching Bhanu.
No such text came.
Should I text him? No, then he’d know he was taking up space in my head and never let me live it down. He’d do that mocking smirk thing he typically did and bring out the fact that I’d been thinking about him every time we’d get into an argument. Which was essentially every day at work.
Plus, if I dared check my phone, I’d see a few missed calls, video calls, or texts from my mother. Whom I adored with all my beating heart, but she was desperate to see her daughters marry and start families or whatever nonsense she thought needed to happen for us to feel fulfilled and happy. I loved her for making us the focal point of her efforts, and she wasn’t nearly as theatrical, pushy, or obtuse as some horror stories I’d heard from others about their mothers.
Instead, my mom worked with calculated calls. She was working with Diya to get information, while simultaneously encouraging Diya to lock down her man to start having little brown babies.
I understood. She wanted us to be stable and not alone. But I was still ignoring her. There was a 100 percent chance she’d corner me into a call at least three times this visit through Diya.
For now, I dove into this book. It had actually succeeded in getting my mind off everything else, even the interview waiting game. As the sun moved across the sky, shifting the shade until there was no place left to scoot without being in the water, my phone rang.
It was Sunny, and I briefly considered disregarding him. Except he was calling and not texting, so maybe this was important?
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he said in that deep baritone voice.
I shivered, not realizing how cold the ocean breeze could sometimes feel. Because it couldn’t be him. “Yes?”
“First of all, I apologize for this morning. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Oh,” I replied on a breath. A simple apology completely dismantled any lingering anger I had toward him.
There were some voices in the background when Sunny begrudgingly admitted, “I’m going to put you on speaker. My friends are with me, and they’re being extremely pushy that I call you so they can invite you to a…coffee tour with us.”
I stared at the striped fish near my foot, mouthing, “What?” But like most fish, this one didn’t have an answer.
Guessing by the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, he probably didn’t want me to actually attend. I was certain he wasn’t planning on continuing this ruse. Hadn’t he said as much this morning before storming out?
Confused, I jerked my head back and studied the phone. Okay. This was really his number. “My sister probably has plans for us.”
“Oh, Bhanu! Bride here!” a sweet voice crooned. “I’d love to meet you today! Just a short tour.”
Another woman’s voice pitched in to agree.
“Oh, well. I should really check with my sister,” I found myself saying instead of, “Thanks so much, but my sister and I have plans.”
“Please join. Our treat,” the first woman—the bride—insisted.
“Let me get back to you?”
“Okay! Soon! We’re dying to meet you!”
“Aw, thank you.” She seemed sweet, and I felt awful having to lie to her face.
With that, Sunny was sighing into the phone. “So yeah. My friends are eager to meet you.”
“What happened to…” My voice trailed off in case everyone could still hear.
“We’re not on speaker anymore.” Yet his voice was calm and muted, so his friends were probably nearby. “You don’t have to come. Spend time with your sister.”
“She has to come!” someone yelled in the background.
“Stop deterring her!” another voice called.
“Why don’t you want her coming around?” This one was a familiar voice, although not the first two. “Was that woman at the hotel just making it up?”
Ah, the ex. Man, she was acute if she could tell we were lying right off the bat. Or maybe she was poking the bear?
“Can you stop?” Sunny was muttering to her, his voice heavy with irritation. In a second, I saw this woman ripping him apart for no reason. I didn’t want that for anyone, much less an integral part of my team. Forget that our company might be depending on this project to launch us into the tech giant stratosphere, but I needed this project to launch my candidacy into the PM promotion more than anything.
“Hey,” I told him, my voice gruffer than I’d meant. “When do we leave?”
There was a pause before he asked, “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“Stop telling her that!” the bride called out.
“No, listen, I got you into this and I’ll see it through. Just don’t pop a blood vessel.”
He grunted, “Not at all wanting to see me struggle, huh?”
“I’m not a jerk, unlike some people.”
“See? That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble,” he said, his Denzel voice rumbling like a deep bass vibrating my insides. Oh my god, what the hell was wrong with me?
I stared at my phone for a second. I hated these things.
“Get a room!” the second woman from earlier said.
“Oh my god,” we muttered at the same time.
“I’ll meet you at the villa in about half an hour?” he asked.
“Okay.”
Then we hung up. There were no thanks exchanged. But since I’d started this mess, going on a free coffee tour seemed like the least I could do. And sure, the tendrils of anxiety stirred, but they would calm. They had to. This wasn’t a last-minute party. I’d been to plenty of coffee farms. Besides, how bad could his friends be?
So back to the villa I went. Boy, the walk back seemed much longer than the stroll out. I’d finished my water a while ago and my mouth was parched. First mistake was going out without enough water. My skin started tingling right as I cut across the gardens and rounded the corner onto the main street, where large flowering trees created much-needed shade.
As soon as I walked through the door, I ran to the kitchen for water, gulping it down until my stomach turned sick.
“Calm down! You’ll throw up!”
I yelped, turning to face Diya and Kimo entering from the lanai doors. I choked on the last drops of water, but not so badly that Diya expressed any concern.
“This heat…” I mumbled, then went to the couch and fell onto my back beneath the ceiling fan and the air-conditioned air, pulling my shirt to just under my breasts. “Sorry, Kimo. Best look away.”
Kimo was probably not even looking at me, but Diya knelt beside the couch and blew on my face as if that actually helped. At least her breath smelled sweet.
“Did you have cookies?” I asked.
“Yes. Work gave us cookies as a thanks for helping out with the crap show the reservation website left us in. So, naturally, I grabbed a few for you. Your fave: white chocolate macnut, you basic bitch.”
“I thought that only applied to my love of PSL and all things autumn.”
“It’s becoming a more inclusive umbrella term.”
“Ah. Good to know. Also thanks!” I inhaled two cookies as soon as she handed them over. Sugar and lots of water, plus shade and cooler temps, alleviated the borderline heat exhaustion that’d been stalking toward me.
“So tell me about this guy,” she said, chin in her hand like a kid asking for a bedtime story.
“No.”
“Why not? And why did he sleep on the couch?”
“Because it’s not like that.”
“He looked cute.”
“Were you watching him sleep?”
“Yes. While I ate granola. He was passed out like a baby.”
I groaned, wiping sweat from my brow and realizing how badly I needed a shower.
“When’s the last time you got some?”
“Diya!” I squeaked. Pointedly looking at Kimo, who was on the adjacent chair surfing the endless channels.
“What? I tell him everything. He already knows.”
Kimo nodded and shrugged, as if saying, “True, and sorry, but what can I do?”
“Oh my god,” I muttered with a shake of my head because little sisters sure thought they had liberty with everything.
“And our parents call me every day for an update.”
I cringed. “On me getting some?”
“No! Ew. On you getting a man. Although I’m sure they know what that entails at some point.”
“Everyone is in my sex life.”
“Everyone except you because you ain’t getting any. Bitch, you better make use of that ‘there’s only one bed for the both of us’ situation. None of this couch business because he’ll find out in the morning that I watch him sleep while eating breakfast.”
“Wow. The language on this one,” I said to Kimo because I couldn’t handle Diya for another second.
He responded, “I’m sorry. She’s been hanging around Keanu, and Keanu can’t have a conversation without cursing.”
“Aw. How is your sister? I didn’t even ask. I’m so rude!”
He lit up. “Keanu’s good. She has one more year at U of H over on Oahu. Keeping it local, even if she’s off island, ya know?”
“I bet your parents miss her.”
“They couldn’t wait to get her out of the house because of her language,” he replied, grinning.
I nodded. The few times I’d met Keanu, her sailor mouth had floored me. Having to watch her language in classes and study groups and in any sort of professional environment had probably helped curb that habit. Or it meant she’d been bottling it up and it exploded the moment she got back. Just a young, cute volcano spewing out profanity.
“Oh! I gotta shower.” I hopped up and hurried to my room, almost forgetting about first impressions with the friends of my fake boyfriend.
After a quick douse, I opened the bathroom and bedroom doors and called out, “Hey! Diya! Something came up!”
Returning to the bathroom, I hurried to dab on a light layer of foundation and mascara, did my brows just a little, maybe lip gloss, and…did I need bronzer, highlighter, blush? No. I’d been in the sun long enough to have a glow by now.
“What are you doing?” Diya asked from the door, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked me up and down.
With a bobby pin in my mouth, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and said, “Remember that coworker who crashed here?”
“Yes. The man. Whom I need to meet, but go on.”
“He’s here for his best friend’s wedding and they invited me to a coffee tour. I bet it’s that place in Holualoa. Good for them for getting more visitors.”
She smacked her lips, her gaze studying the low front of my tank top and my short shorts—by which I meant not knee-length gym shorts. “Looking kinda cute and putting on makeup?”
“Don’t go there. Anyway, is it okay if I bail out for a bit and go with him? Also, he might need to crash another night or two. Guess he’s one of the guests who had their reservations screwed up.”
“Well, I’ll make sure to hurry on that one,” Diya jested with a wink. “Let me help. This is crooked. How about a low bun? Make you look like a classy, sexy woman in STEM begging for him to undo your hair while he talks dirty into your ear.”
“Been reading too many rom-coms? Also, not sure if I should be offended that you just reduced my entire career to what could possibly be the beginning of a porno?”
“No! And it is a good idea for a rom-com. You know? I think I’ll write a book one day. How hard can it be?”
“I’m sure it’s easy and fast and will yield loads of cash and fame,” I replied dryly.
“I think so, too.”
There was a knock at the ajar bedroom door. Assuming it could only be Kimo, I replied, “Come in!”
It was not Kimo, but Sunny led by that Denzel voice that had Diya pausing in mid–bobby pinning to swerve her head toward the bedroom. Just his voice. That was all it took.
“Hey, I’m a little early. You have time, don’t worry. Just came by to say…can you please…um…”
“I’m not wearing sweats!” I yelled. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he seriously telling me to dress nicely for his friends? Well, shorts and a tank top were all they were getting.
“Damn,” Diya muttered. “He sounds fine as hell. Voice certainly matching that face.”
I rolled my eyes and pointed at my hair. She unrolled the bun and went for two French braids, saying, “Forget classy. You need to look more like, come hither and pull on these braids, Daddy, but still talk dirty because, damn, that voice.”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
Diya grinned at me through the reflection of the mirror, where my face was getting redder by the second.
“Thank god.” He sounded as if he was going through his suitcase, sounds of lugging it out of the closet and the zipper opening.
“Why are you so obsessed with what I wear?”
“I always notice what you wear.”
“Obsessed,” Diya whispered. “Yes, Daddy.”
Sunny went on, “I thought about what you said, and let’s agree to two months? We’ve been dating for two months and it’s nothing serious; that’s why I didn’t tell my friends.”
Diya tugged on my braid as she worked, her eyes giant circles through the reflection as she mouthed, “What?”
Oh, no. This was not happening.
“Everything else is the same. Separate cities, work, keeping it discreet, and—” Sunny’s last word ended abruptly as he came to the slightly open bathroom door, his eyes first landing on Diya, then on me. Then on my cleavage. Then down my legs. Everywhere his gaze swept left a rising fire. Probably sunburn, though. I needed to make sure I kept up with my sunscreen here.
“Oh. Sorry. I thought you were alone.”
“No,” I said flatly. “My sister, Diya. Diya, this is Sunny.”
A flicker of recognition hit his features. “Ah. I think I saw you at the front desk earlier?”
“Yes,” she said sweetly as she quickly finished my hair. “I’m the GM and was helping with our reservation glitch. So glad you could join us! I’ve heard nothing about you, but need to know everything.” She hooked arms with his and led him away as he glanced back at me with so many unspoken questions.
“So you’re the boyfriend, you said?” Diya was asking as I finished up and hurried after her.
Kimo was nowhere to be found; he’d probably headed out. Diya was practically fawning over Sunny as they sat on the couch.
“Boyfriend?” He curiously looked to me and all I could do was blankly blink.
“You just said you two were dating.”
“Oh.” He was still looking at me, silently asking if our ruse had spilled over to my family.
Of course not! I intervened with, “Diya. Don’t get all excited for nothing. We’re not—”
“Oh, look!” Diya squealed with her buzzing phone in hand. Before anyone could blink, she had our mother’s face on the screen waving at me before turning the screen back to herself. “Mummie! What a surprise.”
I nearly lunged for the phone, but not before Diya slipped away, telling our mother, “Did you know Motiben has a boyfriend?”
Mummie’s shrieks of joy catapulted out of the phone. Diya had to lower the volume and hold the phone away from her.
Mortification enhanced by deep regret crashed into me like pounding waves. This must’ve been what Sunny felt when I opened my big mouth to his ex, who then told his friends, who now believed the same thing my sister and mother believed. Turned out, karma was real because what went around came around. By my own execution.
If I could go back in time, I’d tell that ex of his to watch her tone and be kind to my lead dev instead of: Shut your face, he has a girlfriend, now everyone be quiet.
“I just met him!” Diya was talking this entire time while I stood stunned into place.
“Let me see, let me see,” Mummie insisted with unbridled joy.
There was no humanly possible speed at which I could block or snatch the phone before Diya flipped the screen toward Sunny so he could see my mother grinning like she was meeting her future son-in-law for the first time. The way she lit up, you’d think Sunny had just succeeded in giving her the first grandchild.
Crap.
“Oh. So handsome,” she said.
I was speechless, even when Sunny glanced at me for some sort of indication to the direction of this entire thing.
His shock had worn off by now, and his face had returned to its usual stoic expression, which had somehow, at some point, slowly evolved into a charming look. He smiled, showing teeth…how had I never noticed those perfect teeth before? Oh, yes, because he didn’t smile at me like that. Well, he had amazing teeth and an amazing smile that had Diya and Mummie silent. Silent! Did he know what sort of power he wielded? What great responsibility came with great charm?
Charm and Sunny weren’t two things I’d ever associated before, but they paired seamlessly when he not only generously conversed with Mummie, answering the beginning of what was sure to be a long line of biodata inquiries to be followed by his family, religious and cultural background, how often he prayed, if he had a house and where, the number of children he planned on siring, and his blood type. And he did so…in Gujarati…in that Denzel voice.
Every ovary in my body was popping, every excited hope in my sister went off, and every prayer my mother had ever uttered was being answered.
Damnit.
Diya gave me a look that pretty much said, “You better lock him down with a ring. Don’t wait for him to propose!” Plus a hefty dose of, “Damn, sis. Get. It.”
Sunny’s Gujarati was fluid and far better than my, what we called, village Gujarati. I sounded uneducated and from the poorest villages when I tried to speak my parents’ language because, well, our family was from a poor village. He leaned in on his elbows, hands clasped, giving in to the auntie whims my mother was throwing at him, and laughed.
Something warm spread through me, seeping into my gut and deeper into my bones. I had to shut that down quickly because this wasn’t real and I would have to deal with the aftermath later.
Finally stumbling out of my stupor, I grabbed Sunny’s hand and yanked him away. I pushed against his back as Diya and her phone followed me, Mummie scowling and crying, “Ay! Where are you going?”
“We have time-sensitive plans!”
“Prevent the mossing!”
“Talk to you later! Bye!”
I didn’t release Sunny until we were speed-walking halfway down the street. I was still tugging him behind me. He was actually chuckling.
“This isn’t funny!” I belted.
He laughed so hard that his eyes squinted up and the sun glinted off his canines. “What goes around!”
Sexy canines? What was happening?
I had to stop staring at his mouth, but there was so much goodness to behold. He could absolutely destroy entire worlds with that smile.
“What does she mean by ‘mossing’?” he managed to ask in between all that amused chortling.
“She thinks I need to move forward in life at a faster pace or my stagnation will lead into me devolving into moss.”
When Sunny found his composure, he nudged my shoulder with his and said, “I guess we’re both in it now?”
“I had no idea what to say,” I confessed, my face too warm to be considered healthy.
“You froze. With a deer-in-the-headlights look. I’ve never seen you like that.”
I groaned as I texted Diya to calm down. I’d typed out that we weren’t dating, and this was all a misunderstanding, but then she replied with a: Guess I won’t have to bug you to get out during your stay and Mummie will leave you alone. At least until you get home.
Hmm. Maybe this wasn’t a total disaster? I’d explain to them later and add that their current and previous prodding and pushing me into being more extroverted and finding a man had led me to this falsehood. Yes. Sounded like a great plan, which started with no one breathing down my neck for once.
Fine. Ruse extended.