“That looks like too much. How can you have so much sugar with your dinner?”
“It’s spectacular. Try it, Rohan.”
He leaned forward and took a tentative sip, eyes widening as he drank. “Holy crap. That’s good, too. I would never have thought—mango and matcha.”
“See? Kamila knows best. The soup is good, too, right?”
“Yes, Kam, it’s excellent.” He smirked. “Thank you, brilliant one. What would I do without you?”
“Well, I can guarantee your life wouldn’t be as interesting without me.” She couldn’t help grinning ear to ear. She knew he’d love this place. After slurping another chopstick full of thick wheat noodles into her mouth, she groaned with pleasure. “Mmm…I really needed this.”
“So, you’re feeling better, then?”
She nodded. “That Marlene woman got under my skin. But I’m not bothered about being asked to plan the party. I mean, I volunteered for the committee—how can I expect not to be put to work, right?”
“But the same weekend as the shelter event?”
“It’s fine. Tim’s doing a lot at this point, and I can delegate more if I need to. I will need to make the time to practice Darcy’s dance number on Saturday before our performance on Sunday at the prom.”
“I still can’t believe you’re dancing with your dog. In public.” He shook his head.
“I know you think I’m ridiculous, but it took a lot of focus and determination to train Darcy to do that. Musical canine freestyle is really just extreme obedience.” Maricel had helped her a lot with training—she really was a genius trainer.
“I don’t think you’re ridiculous.”
She put her chopsticks down. “You think I’m trouble.”
“You love being trouble,” he said, then paused. “But you’re right about one thing. You do make my life interesting. Actually, you make my life…better.”
Kamila slapped both palms on the table. “Oh my god, what’s in this soup? Whatever it is I should bottle it, because it made Rohan Nasser admit his life is better with me in it. Excuse me, miss? I need the recipe—”
Rohan barked a laugh. “Kamila, you’re incorrigible. Great, now a waiter is actually coming.”
She clapped her hands together. “Oh good. The French maid is going to flirt with you some more!”
To Kamila’s surprise, it wasn’t the French maid that turned up at the table, but Kevin, the boba tea guy who’d recommended the beef noodle soup last time. Kamila hadn’t seen him at the counter when they walked into the shop.
“Oh, hi!” Kevin said. “I remember you! Mango-matcha with tapioca!” He grinned.
“Yes! Wow, Kevin, you’re good.”
“Ah, you know. It’s the only job I got. Whatcha need?”
Rohan shook his head. “Nothing. We’re fine. Kamila was—”
“I was telling my friend here how delicious this soup is. You must tell me the chef’s secret.”
“It’ssick, right? Star anise and white pepper, and the broth is simmered for twelve hours.”
“Twelvehours!” Kamila said. “No wonder it’s so good. Our compliments to the chef.”
Kevin beamed. “I’ll tell her.” He leaned close, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “The chef is actually my aunt. It’s an old family recipe she brought from Taiwan.”
“Well, tell her this soup is so magically good that it’s made my fancy lawyer friend here realize how much he needs me in his life,” Kamila said.
Kevin laughed. “That’s the magic of Taiwanese food. Hey, how’s your other friend, half-sweet oolong iced latte with grass jelly?”
“Wow, you remember her, too? Maricel is fine.”
