Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(92)

He shifted. Bikram had offered the same. If multiple people were going to bombard him with referrals, he had to call someone. “Might not be such a bad idea.”

“Roger that. Hey, I’ll text you the dates I’ll be in California, too. We’ll get that drink.”

“Sounds good. Thank you for handling everything.”

“Not a problem. We all deal with things in the ways best for us. Take care.”

He hung up. He didn’t know how long he stood there, slumped against the wall, the relief like a drug in his veins.

“Son. How are you?”

Jas straightened. “Fine, Dad. Good to see you.” He hugged Gurjit, squeezing him extra-tight. His stepfather looked like an older version of Bikram, with the same stocky build. Jas inhaled, the familiar scent of Old Spice calming him.

“Whoa there. You okay?” His father’s big hand patted him on the back.

Jas hugged him tighter. “Yes. Everything is great.”

Gurjit paused, then whispered in his ear. “Your mother filled me in regarding dinner the other night. I’m proud of you, son.”

Jas coughed to clear the frog in his throat, then stepped back. “Thanks.” Gurjit was dressed in khakis and a black button-down shirt, which told Jas that his father must have driven here straight from work. The man didn’t wear anything but jeans when he was off.

Gurjit examined him closely. “You look tired.”

“Haven’t slept much. I drove home, then had to turn right around.” He gestured to the door. “Give it to me straight. He’s faking, right? This is some elaborate ruse? That nurse is in there chatting with him, not taking his vitals?”

His stepfather’s face went blank, but his gaze darted around the hallway, which was a dead giveaway that he was looking for his wife. He scratched his head. “Uh . . .”

“This is completely ridiculous. I expect this sort of thing from Mom and Grandpa, but you? You drove all this way from the city for these shenanigans?”

Gurjit winced, but didn’t confirm or deny anything. At some other time, Jas might admire the man’s loyalty to his wife, but not today.

The nurse opened Andrés’s door and smiled at them. “You can go in.”

“How much is he paying you for this farce?” Jas demanded of the nurse, and her eyes widened.

Gurjit’s laugh was strangled. “Sorry, ma’am.” He herded Jas inside the room and shut the door behind them.

Andrés smirked at them from his bed, clearly having heard Jas. “Done embarrassing yourself, boy?” He coughed.

It was the fakest cough Jas had ever heard. “You are not sick, and I want to know what’s going on.”

“I am sick, and you can ask my doctor, if you want. The nurse said he should be by shortly.”

“You know what?” Jas rocked back on his heels. “We don’t have to wait for him. I’ll go ask one of the other doctors. Or at the nurses’ station. Surely they can tell me all about my dear grandfather’s flu.”

Andrés glared at Jas, and Jas glared right back, both of them silent.

Gurjit’s exhale broke the standoff. “Andrés. I think the jig is up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andrés tried.

“He’s going to go out there and find a doctor who isn’t your old housekeeper’s son, Andrés. Or a nurse who wasn’t in the delivery room when Tara was born. Tell Jasvinder the truth now.” This was probably the same tone Gurjit used on his most mischievous students.

Jas strode to his grandfather’s bedside. “You better have a damn good reason for—”

“I was scared you wouldn’t come back!”

Jas’s mouth gaped open at that admission. “What?”

His grandfather folded his arms over his chest. He looked decidedly not sick now. “I said, I didn’t know if you’d come back. For the awards ceremony.” His voice dropped. “Or ever.”

Jas sat down in the chair with a thunk. “So you were going to pretend to be bedridden until the awards ceremony?”

His grandfather nodded.

“This is the most outrageous thing you’ve done in a long time. I hope you know that. I am so angry with you.”

“I told them it was a bad idea,” Gurjit interjected. “So did Bikram.”

“Damn it, Grandpa. I said I would try. How could you—” He closed his eyes, hearing Katrina’s voice in his head.

He hadn’t told anyone in his family what was really going on in his head for over a dozen years. He had deliberately avoided spending extended time with them, even when it was a huge occasion, like Bikram’s engagement. How could Jas think one dinner would make his grandpa trust he would actually try to come for this thing that was so important to him?

He clasped his hands between his knees. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you so much over the years—”

“No.” Andrés cleared his throat and shot a glance at Gurjit, who nodded his encouragement. “I was disappointed you weren’t a carbon copy of me, it’s true.” His smile was the gentlest Jas had ever seen it. “You know, the first generation that comes here, the immigrants, they keep their head down. They do their best to fit in. And then the first generation who are born here, I think we feel like we have so much to prove, we have to make all of our parents’ sacrifices worth it.” He sniffed. “I got so caught up in proving my family’s worth, I lost sight of what we want for the ones who come after us. The American Dream, eh? Pursuing whatever they want. Even if that means it’s not what I want.”