“It’s also nice to see her stripped bare. I had to grow up constantly keeping secrets about my family. It’s exhausting, and kind of a relief when people know everything.”
He was silent for a moment. “I know what that’s like.”
“Yeah?”
“My mom was IB.”
She peered up at him. The afternoon sun brought out all the red highlights in his hair, creating a halo around his head. “What is that?”
“The Indian Intelligence Bureau. I don’t know the details about what she did there, but she was fairly high up. After my dad died, she wanted a fresh start. So my grandfather, who had a ton of money, wiped her record and got her and us resettled here.”
Internally, Sejal fist-pumped. “Iknewshe was intelligence. Thank you for gifting me with this validation of being right.”
“As usual, your radar is excellent. So anyway, I very much understand having to hide family secrets at all times. My family, we’re also experts at sweeping things under the rug. It is exhausting.” He peered down at her. “No wonder you and I get along. Neither of us asked for what our parents do or did. We have to muddle through life in spite of it.”
She didn’t know when it had happened, but she realized they were hand in hand. She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was tender. Sweet. She wasn’t used to either of those things.
They separated. “What now?” he asked, his breath puffing against her cheek.
That was a great question. She pondered it. “We could fuck off and go to Bora Bora.”
“A beach,” he said, with some longing. “That would be nice.”
“Or we can do exactly what we were going to do before. Go find out where your brother is.”
Krish’s lips twisted. “I’m willing to believe now that Avi ranaway. That’s probably why he sold your location to Alexei. For funds to finance his fleeing. Why should I try to find him?”
“Because if my mom is telling the truth, Avi’s being framed for things he didn’t do by two people who definitely also need to be taken out of law enforcement.” Sejal shrugged. “Isn’t it worth finding him?”
“Gray areas.”
“Gray areas.” She squeezed his hand. “Come on. It’s the last piece of this puzzle. We can’t give up now. Not when we’re so close.” She was curious, but more importantly, she didn’t think Krish would ever get over not knowing exactly what had happened to his brother.
And that mattered to her. He mattered to her. So weird and scary.
You also still don’t want to say goodbye to him.Well, there was that as well.
He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of it. “Okay, but we have to talk about what a silly name Naan Negotiable is for a restaurant.”
“Right? When Naan Stop is right there.” She tossed him the car keys. “You drive. I’ll take aux.”
Krish caught them. “Or Naan the Wiser, if they really wanted to lean into being a mob front.”
“Naan of your Business.”
He tapped his nose, and she reveled in his grin. “That’s it. That’s the one.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sejal tapped her deck of cards on the white linen tablecloth. She didn’t know what she’d expected from a restaurant with a cheeky name where one could find a mobster, but it hadn’t been this. The place was a little over half filled after the dinner rush, with families and couples of all ages. The furnishings were dark and the sun had set, but wall sconces gave off a warm, golden light. Fabric hung on the walls, textiles from India, embroidered scenes of battle and love.
“You okay?” Krish took a sip of the ice water the hostess had poured from them. They’d been seated in a deep semicircular booth that could easily fit six or eight of their favorite relatives, but they’d tacitly agreed to sit on one side, next to each other.
“Yup.” She absent-mindedly cut the cards one-handed, over and over again. The hem of her sleeve was starting to fray. She’d pulled his gray sweatshirt around her, both for comfort and as a safety measure. It didn’t go with her dress, but she didn’t have a great record of not getting kidnapped, so best to keep his tracker on her if she could.
“We can still leave. Find another restaurant. Do you like dosas?”
“Who doesn’t love dosas? But no. Let’s stay.” Unlike most of their car rides together, they’d spoken almost nonstop during this last stretch, from the prison to Los Angeles. Their conversation had been silly and deep, ranging from their day-to-day lives to how they grew up.
