But maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe she could fake it. Pretend that being around Anil was no big deal. Pretend to be confident and dynamic. Show Dr. Lopez that she was the right person for that job. And she and Anil really did have the aspirational co-parenting relationship that Mom claimed they had. Hell, maybepretendingshe was over the past was the way to actually get over it. And now she had two weeks with Anil—this was the perfect time to put it all behind her for Imani’s well-being and her own.
It was time to show everyone—including Anil Malek—that the last five years hadn’t broken Jana. Most of all, it was time for Jana to showherselfthat.
Chapter 8
The next morning, Jana was greeted by a printed piece of paper that had been slid under the suite door while they slept. It was a revised wedding schedule. Jana assumed Elsie had rearranged everything so Dr. Lopez wasn’t in the same activities as Mom, Jana, Anil, or Imani. Kamila hadn’t been kidding when she said Elsie was a wedding planner with military-level organizational abilities.
According to the schedule, Jana and Imani’s game drive through Serengeti National Park had been rescheduled for tomorrow morning. They would be with Mom, Anil, and the Bridal Brigade, while the Groom’s Platoon (minus Anil) and Dr. Lopez would be going today. The rearrangement meant Jana and Anil would be together all day. Good. This was Jana’s chance to pretend she was perfectly fine being around him.
After dressing, Jana and Imani headed for breakfast. The small private dining room had a buffet off to one side with fresh fruit and pastries, and a woman in a chef’s jacket was making omelets and pancakes to order. There were also East African additions—like chapatti and Jana’s favorite, mandazi, which were lightly fried triangles of sweet dough like beignets, except made with cardamom and coconut. Imani made a beeline for the elaborate pastries. Jana let her grab a few so long as she took fruit, too, while Jana was happy with chai, mandazi, and some mango slices.
They weren’t alone for long. Soon, Kamila and Asha joined them, each with overladen plates. Kamila’s was just fruit, though.
“Don’t worry,” Kamila said. “I amnotbuying into that whole bridal diet–culture crap, but if I eat all the croissants I want to eat, there’s no chance of fitting into my lehenga.” She looked at Jana’s plate. “After the wedding, I will be eating mandazi only.” She speared a piece of mango onto her fork, then moaned with appreciation as she put it in her mouth. “Oh my god. This is fine, though. Honestly, the mangoes here are better than…”She mouthed the letterss-e-x, presumably for the sake of Imani at the table. “Never mind the mandazi—I’m only eating mangoes from now on.”
Imani was outraged, though. “But you have to eat cake at the wedding!”
Kamila smiled, then leaned in close to Imani. “I’ll tell you a secret, Princess: one of the layers of my cake will have a mango filling. I’ll eat that one. But don’t worry—we got vanilla for your mother, too.”
Jana frowned. Was that an insult? She knew vanilla was considered plain and basic in North America, but elsewhere in the world, it was a luxurious treat. Jana loved a quality, fragrant, almost floral vanilla.
“Good morning, ladies!” someone said behind Jana. Anil. Jana squeezed her chai mug. She could do this.
“Daddy!” Imani squealed so loudly that Dr. Lopez on the plains of the Serengeti probably heard her.
Anil smiled at Imani, then looked at Jana, clearly hoping Jana would invite him to pull up a chair. Sheshouldbe accustomed to being around him by now. But no. The hair on her arm stood on end. Her stomach flip-flopped. It still felt so weird to have him in front of her—and in Tanzania, of all places.
Kamila suddenly stood. “We need to go check on the banquet hall. Elsie had some questions about table arrangements for the sangeet on Friday. C’mon, Ash.” Asha smiled apologetically at Jana, then took her plate of food and followed Kamila out.
Imani beamed. “Daddy, now you can sit!”
Jana put on a smile. “Yes, join us.”
Anil grinned as he sat in Kamila’s vacated seat.
“How’d you sleep, Mini?” he asked. Anil was dressed in jeans and a linen short-sleeve button-up. Nothing fancy, but he looked effortlessly put together. He always did. Shirt never wrinkled. Pants always at the right length. No small coffee stains. No child scribbles on his clothes. Everything was tailored to fit right.
Jana used to be effortless—at least she used to think she was. Not anymore. Motherhood had changed her—but it was irritating to see Anil lookingbetterthan he used to look. She smoothed her hair behind her ears.
“Are you ready for our first game drive tomorrow?” Jana asked Imani.
Imani’s little face scrunched with confusion. “Are we going to play games instead of looking at animals?”
Anil shook his head. “Gamemeans big wild animals here.”
“Do the big animals play games?”
“Oh, no. They’re called game because…”Anil paused.
Jana looked at him sharply, hoping he understood her glare meantDon’t you dare tell our African animal–obsessed daughter that they’re called game because humans like to shoot them dead.
He ran his hand over Imani’s head. “Because it’s like a game to find them all. Did you bring that passport book I got you? The one where you can color in the animals when you see them?”
She nodded happily, then pointed to her backpack. “I didn’t color giraffes, even though we saw three giraffes. Are we going to see more?”
Imani and Anil chatted about the animals they hoped to see on the game drive while Jana sipped her chai.
Kamila came back to the table then and smiled at Imani. “Elsie is decorating the room for the sangeet party. Do you want to help me put the wooden animals on the tables?”
