“Maricel?” Asha called out. She was across the room with Tim and Jerome. “What was it you told me about that organic baker selling cupcakes at the Dogapalooza? They needed an extra table or something? Tim’s putting in the order for the rentals tomorrow.”
“Wasn’t it that they needed shorter tables?” Kamila asked. Maricel had spoken to the vendor, and Kamila didn’t know details.
“Higher, actually,” Maricel said. “Bar height. I’ll talk to Tim.” She smiled apologetically before excusing herself.
“She looks gorgeous tonight, doesn’t she?” Kamila said. “I love that dress. Pink is so her color.”
“She does look great. You have great taste.”
“So how are you settling in? Is Byte getting comfortable with the neighborhood?”
Dane sighed. “Not yet. He’s a nightmare at home. Ruined the backs of three dining chairs. He’s lonely. Byte is always happier when I have a girlfriend to spoil him.”
Kamila’s eyes widened. “Ah, did you know Maricel is a dog trainer? I’m helping her open her own dog school soon.” She glanced at Maricel, still talking to Tim.
Dane followed Kamila’s gaze and smiled. “You have such great friends. These parties are a great way to get to know so many great people.”
First, holy wow, Dane said the wordgreata lot. Second, squee! He was so into Maricel and he wanted to get to know her better. As Dane would say, this was all great.
There was a knock at the door. Kamila excused herself, but Rohan beat her to open it.
“Anil, my friend!” Rohan did that manly bro-pat-on-the-back thing, then brought the man of the hour in to meet Kamila.
“Kam, this is Anil Malek. Anil, my old friend Kamila Hussain.”
“Kamila, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally!” Anil put his hand out for Kamila to shake.
Kamila smiled, taking his hand. “Likewise! I’m so happy you could join us tonight! Can I pour you a hot cider?”
Anil flashed that million-dollar smile she’d seen in his video. In person, he looked younger than Rohan and a little less…stuffy. Easy good looks combined with dark eyes and full lips. And yes, not a strand of hair on his head. It was the sexy kind of bald, though. More Jason Statham than her Shiroz Uncle. Anil had a solid build—like he spent more time on free weights than the treadmill at the gym. Overall, he was captivating.
“I’d love a cider,” he said. “I was thrilled to get an invitation to one of your famous parties. Your reputation precedes you. This is an amazing space.” He looked around. “That print on the wall…that’s a Raqib Shaw, right?”
Kamila had, of course, removed all her pet photoshopped prints. But she’d hung this art print on the dining room wall even though she’d been worried it was too colorful and not very…professional. It was the only thing big enough for the space, though, other than the print of Darcy, Lizzy, Luke, and Leia photoshopped onto the originalStar Warsposter. Kamila beamed and handed him a clear mug. “It is! I love his work. So detailed and layered. I think the colors really complement the neutrals in the room.”
“Well, I don’t know much about interior design, but clearly you do. I actually saw a Shaw exhibit in England a few months ago. His works were shown side by side with classical pieces. It was a fascinating juxtaposition. I bought the guidebook from the exhibit. I’ll bring it by to show you one day.”
“I would love that!”
“I hear they’re bringing in a famous neoclassical collection on loan at the Art Gallery of Ontario. We should go together.”
“That would be wonderful! I love art galleries!”
“Anil,” Rohan asked, “I’m surprised your wife hasn’t joined you in town. How is she?”
Kamila cringed. True, Rohan wasn’t exactly a social media kind of guy, but he should have known the wife wasn’t in the picture anymore.
Anil, seemingly unfazed, shook his head. “I hear she’s fine. Probably counting down the seconds to when she can finally sign those divorce papers. But you know what that’s like, right, old friend?”
Kamila squeezed her lips together.Awkward.
“I didn’t know you’d separated. Sorry to hear that,” Rohan said.
Anil chuckled. “We grew apart. No regrets. She’s still in D.C. Are those momos?”
“Yes,” Kamila said. “Come, let’s get you some food.” She led Anil toward the dining table, quickly tossing a pair of Darcy’s rainbow sunglasses that were on an end table behind the couch. And the digital tuner for her ukulele. She must have missed them in the cleanup.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Rohan said.
