“Salads.”
Kamila sat on the armchair and peeled off her shoes. Ah. Relief. She wiggled her toes, letting the circulation back in. “Oh, that feels good. Where’s Dad?”
“Napping.”
Kamila sat up straight. Why was he napping at this hour? That wasn’t a sign of trouble, was it? “Is he okay?” she asked. “What did the doctor say?”
Rohan shrugged. “He seemed fine. A little worn-out. I just drove him to the doctor, though—I didn’t go in. I assume he’ll have to wait for the results from the blood work, anyway.”
Kamila bit her lip. If the news was bad, he would have told Rohan, right? She wanted to talk to Dad so she could see how he really was herself, but she also wanted to let him rest if he was tired.
Rohan paused the movie and turned to look at Kamila. “We stopped in at Emerald to get some papers after the appointment. The place looks nothing like the last time I was there.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, because it used to look like an eighties basement.”
Rohan snorted.
She relaxed in her seat. She still wanted to take her dress off and put on some sweats, but she loved the way it looked with the lavender cardigan she was wearing with it, so it seemed a shame to change when there was company here. Even if it was just Rohan. She curled her feet under her, spreading her skirt over her knees. “Tell me honestly. Did he seem upset after the appointment?”
He shrugged. “Not really. We talked business on the way home. HNS and Emerald are both doing well, so your father is happy.”
HNS—or Hussain, Nasser, and Suleiman, as Dad still called it—was Dad’s first baby. He’d started the tax firm over thirty years ago with his two closest friends, Rohan’s father and Jana Suleiman’s father. Today, the firm was owned and operated by Rohan and his brother, Zayan, but Dad still owned 30 percent. Even though Dad was no longer involved with operations, he was still emotionally invested, and he counted on regular updates from Rohan on everything going on there. Emerald was technically a subsidiary of HNS, but Rohan and Zayan were completely hands-off with the smaller firm.
Kamila had wondered if Rohan was only humoring Dad with his HNS updates, since Rohan wasn’t exactly a young ingenue needing a mentor when he took over operations—he had come from a busy law firm where he’d been a tax lawyer for years. But after Kamila sat in on some of these meetings, she could clearly see that Rohan actually wanted Dad to know what was going on with the company that still carried his name. Kamila was eternally grateful for that. No one—not Dad’s old friends, not even Zayan—was as patient with Dad as Rohan. He made Dad feel valued.
“Good,” Kamila said. “If Dad is happy, I’m happy.” She stretched her legs and rested her feet on the coffee table. “Darcy, you didn’t even get up when I came in.”
Rohan chuckled, then looked down at Darcy. “I have a feeling this sweater she’s wearing cost more than yours.”
“Marginally, yes, it did. Why exactly are you still here, Rohan?” She remembered what Asha had said—was Rohan lonely?
He leaned forward, his relaxed pose disappearing. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’d planned to go to the climbing gym, but…you were so worried about this physical.”
Had she told him she was worried? She had told Asha, but not Rohan. But then again, Rohan knew, maybe more than anyone, why Kamila should be scared. “If he doesn’t pass his blood tests…” Her voice trailed.
“You’re worried it could trigger another depressive episode.”
“It could.” Bad news…unexpectednews, was always a little bit harder for Dad to cope with. And since both his wife and his best friend had died of heart disease, health-related bad news was extra tricky. Last year’s physical had needed a few extra cognitive behavioral therapy sessions for his anxiety, and his test results had all been fine. But the readings on his home blood pressure monitor had been high for the last few months. He’d tried taking Darcy for long walks and enthusiastically enjoying the heart-healthy food Kamila prepared for him, when it wasn’t charred to a crisp, that is. But was that enough?
“I think he’ll be fine,” Rohan said. “He seems to be in a good place. Emerald is growing. He’s even updated the office.”
She grinned proudly. “The growth at Emerald? That’s all me, not him. And the redesign, too. I’m trying to convince him that I can handle things alone if he goes part-time.” Dad was still resistant, though. Ugh…she wished she’d secured the Nirvana Lotus account. That would have convinced Dad to reduce his hours.
Rohan nodded. “I’ve seen your client list. You’ve done well. I’m impressed.”
Kamila raised her hands in the air. “It’s an autumn miracle—Rohan Nasser complimented me! Praise be to our queen Beyoncé!”
He smirked as he leaned back on the sofa.
“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s not all sunshine and popsicles. I didn’t get two potential big clients this past week. Maybe if I had, Dad would agree to reduce his hours.” She told him about the old doctor and the white hippie lady, and how she didn’t seem to have the experience, or the penis, they wanted in an accountant.
“Ah, I’m sorry.” He looked at her with an expression that Kamila couldn’t decipher. “You know…you’re always welcome to come work at HNS, if big-financial-institution experience is something you want.”
She raised a brow. “Really? You’re offering me a job?”
“Sure. You’re a CPA, and your father started the firm—his name is still on the door.”
She shook her head. “Well, I don’t want mine there. I tried working at HNS, remember?” Rohan hadn’t been working there at the time, but he knew why she left. “I have no interest in going back to that sterile, emotion-sucking pit of mundaneness. I mean, did you see my new desk at Emerald? Why would I give that up? Plus”—she dipped her chin and batted her lashes—“don’t you think I’d be too much of a distraction in your corporate jungle?”
