Sejal turned around to find Aarthi holding a beautifully arranged vase of flowers.
You aren’t going to fool me with those blooms, Aarthi. Florist, my ass.“Hello, ma’am. Thank you.” Sejal looked down at her outfit. “And thank you for loaning us the money. I’ll be sure to pay you back.”
Aarthi waved her hand. “Consider it a gift.”
If Krish had paid for the dress, Sejal would have considered it proper compensation for the hassle of this trip, but she wasn’t about to take something from his mother. “I’ll pay you back,” she said kindly, but firmly. She had the money. Or rather, she had jewels sitting in a safe-deposit box in Jersey that she was quietly liquidating. “We met Suzy at the bar.”
“Did you now? Nice lady.”
Sejal didn’t want to push Krish’s mom too hard, but she also wanted to make it clear she was on to her. “She thinks your name is Anna.”
Aarthi waved her hand. “My coffee shop name.”
“For preppers, you and your husband are certainly very social. I thought the purpose of a safe house was to be off the grid.”
“This isn’t a safe house, but a second home.”
Uh-huh. It was more likely that Aarthi had figured out that people here would be more curious about someone who bought property in the area and never showed their face, but Sejal accepted her excuse for now. “Pretty flowers.”
“Oh, these?” Aarthi touched a rose. “I just put these together for the table.”
Sureyou did.“Mmm.”
Aarthi put the vase on the island. “Speaking of which, I was about to start dinner.”
“Oh.” Sejal fiddled with the ends of her hair. Mildly influenced by Krish telling her he liked her own hair, she’d left the wig in the room, but she wished she had something to hide behind now. “Not a problem. I can go—”
“Where’s Krishna?”
“I’m not sure. Your husband asked him to go out to the neighbor’s barn with him.” Krish had been quiet on their ride back from town. Not that she’d minded. She’d been preoccupied with her own shit. When they’d gotten home—er, to the house—he’d shown her where the tea was, at her request, and then been quickly drawn away by his stepfather.
Krish had given her a look before he’d been whisked away. It had been a weird look, one she wasn’t used to, the kind of look a boyfriend might give to a girlfriend to see how she’d fare without him. No one, no actual boyfriends, had ever given her that look before. She’d been too self-sufficient for anyone to consider that she might need them.
“Of course. They have some baby goats. Patrick does know how much Krishna loves baby animals.”
First of all, no one loved baby animals as much as Sejal, so she really wished she’d gone along with them, but also,Krishloved baby animals? He didn’t seem cuddly enough to care about cute widdle tiny faces.
“Who doesn’t love baby animals?” Even someone with ice in their veins could appreciate a baby goat, she supposed, and as she was learning, Krish’s blood wasn’t totally glacier cold.
Aarthi walked over to the fridge and opened the crisper. She came back to the island with her arms full of produce and placed her bounty next to the cutting board. “I thought I would make Krishna’s favorite tonight. I don’t need to tell you what that is.”
Because as his girlfriend, she should know that. “No, you don’t.”
There was a brief silence, and then his mom spoke. “Shrimp c—”
“Shrimp curry,” Sejal blurted out. “Of course.”
“With a side of cauliflower.”
“Right. I know very well, Krish has never met a vegetable he didn’t like.”
“Except, bro—”
“Broccoli,” Sejal finished quickly. “Yes, right. Argh! He hates broccoli so much.”
“Oh, he hates it now? I thought he just didn’t care for it.”
Krish, damn it, I really need to be better prepped for lying to your mom.Sejal walked to the counter and touched a little yellow flower in the vase. Turning the tables had worked last time, so maybe it would work this time. “What are these?”
