“We don’t. They’ll show the number of votes next week. And if we’re not eliminated, we’ll have a few days to upload the next video.”
He snorted. “We won’t be eliminated. My money for the next round is on us, the hijabi woman and her daughter, that couple from Hamilton, the Jeffs, and the Jamaicans.”
Reena giggled. “Six groups move on. That’s only five.”
“And that’s why we have this in the bag. There is no way we’re in the bottom two. I would tell everyone I know to vote for us, but we don’t need the help. Not with you cooking, anyway.”
Reena grinned. He was right. They had this round. No question about it.
***
Reena was surprised to see her father at her door Saturday morning, a scant half hour after Nadim had left her apartment for yet another meeting with a restaurant developer.
She had assumed that after Nadim told his father he wouldn’t be marrying Reena, Shiroz Remtulla would call her father about their children’s abject failure at uniting the families. And, of course, Dad would want to confront her on it. But she wasn’t expecting a parental house call.
“Dad. This is a surprise.”
“Why would you be surprised? I am your father.” Dad strolled in and stood near the breakfast bar like he owned the place. Which was fair—he did.
“Would you like some…coffee? Chai? Breakfast?”
“Just coffee.” He sat at the high stool.
“It’s cold brew, but I can heat it up.”
Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “Cold brew? Why don’t you just use a coffeemaker? You make things more difficult than they need to be, Reena.”
Reena sighed as she pulled her old French press from the top shelf of the cabinet. Her father’s mood was nothing like their last meeting, when Dad had been all compliments and jokes. She filled the kettle.
“I had a disappointing phone call yesterday,” he said.
“Shiroz Remtulla. You’re upset because I refused to marry Nadim.”
“Yes, Shiroz was the call, but no, Reena, that is not what upsets me. I believe our role as parents is to facilitate an introduction, but of course I allow you to make your own choice.”
“Allow?Dad, I’m thirty-one. I don’t need your permission to make a choice.”
He exhaled. “If you’ve discovered so early that you and Nadim are incompatible, then I am happy. No harm done.”
She stifled a snort. Multiple simultaneous orgasms, the last one being a mere hour ago, did not lead Reena’s thoughts toincompatibility.
She poured hot water from the kettle over the coffee grounds. “So, then what, Dad? Why are you angry?”
“I am notangry, just confused. Shiroz said you and Nadim have become close friends.”
“And? If I won’t marry him, I’m not allowed to be friends with him?”
“Of course you can be friends, Reena. But I was under the impression, from both of you, mind you, that you barely knew each other. Have you forgotten what I asked you that day?”
“You asked me to spy on him.”
Dad put his hand down on the counter heavily. “I asked no such thing. But this is our business! I can’t ignore the rumors I heard. All I want to know is who his friends are. Who is he in regular contact with?”
“I’ll tell you who his friend is. Me. Why would you want me to betray my friend by telling his boss about his personal life?”
“I had hoped my children would show a bit more loyalty to the family.”
Reena pinched her lips shut while pushing down the plunger of the French press. She pulled out a mug and poured the coffee. Where were her loyalties, anyway? Shedidknow information about Nadim, albeit not directly from him. And while the intel she had was worthy of a little raised eyebrow on the gossip train, it was hardly worth risking Nadim’s job and his father’s investment.
