Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors (The Rajes #1)(103)

“You know that won’t matter. The visual is what will matter. The fact that she was seventeen is what will matter. We can do something.” She turned to him. “We can talk to DJ . . . that’s . . . that’s my patient’s brother. He doesn’t know any of this, but . . . but . . . he said he wouldn’t let her hurt us . . . he’s not exactly friends with her . . . but she might . . . I mean, he’s just . . . it’s not his fault that . . .” Shut up, Trisha!

But it was too late to shut up. Yash was looking at her too carefully, one brow arched. Kill me now, please!

“DJ is the chef catering your event.” Stop talking about him. Talk about something else. Quick.

“Ah.”

She did not like the way he said that. She didn’t like it one bit.

Her brother leaned back on his arms, prosecution settling in to cross-examine the witness. “This DJ,” he said, sounding too much like HRH—possibly on purpose. “He’s the chef who did Ma’s last party? That was some seriously good food, ha?”

Idiot that she was she groaned. Please, please let it have been a groan and not a moan. Then she did that stupid thing she hadn’t done with Yash in a very long time—she turned the groan/moan into a cough.

It only ramped up his level of intrigue. Why did she have to have a brother who was a lawyer? Why? “He looks like a bit of a male model, if I remember right.” He waggled his brows in that probing way she knew well but hadn’t seen in a while.

She rolled her eyes, but thinking about DJ hurt. Yash’s searching look acquired a sharp edge. “You want to tell me about this DJ?”

She all but squirmed, which just made him study her more intently.

“You have to promise not to fire him.”

“Fire him for what? What did he do to you, Shasha?” Was Yash growling? The role of chest-thumping elder brother did not suit him in the least bit.

“He didn’t do anything to me.” She was the one, in fact, who had gone batshit drooler on him. “But you know HRH will not let him work the fund-raiser if he finds out Emma’s done the film with Julia. You don’t understand. He has to cater it.”

More of that studying ensued. “Did you tell him that we can’t work with him if he works with Julia?”

God, they sounded like they were in some sort of seedy mobster flick. “Yes, but he’s not the kind of person who’d dump anyone without reason.” Especially not on her word. “And I’m afraid . . . well . . .” Julia was going to hurt him. Trisha just knew it. “You can’t fire him. Please. He has to do this dinner. He’s here for his sister. He quit his job. The money. Have you eaten his food? But HRH. You have to talk to HRH.” She looked at her toes desperately.

Her brother reached for the hand she was pressing into her belly and patted it as though it were a lost puppy. “Shasha, sweetheart, have you told him how you feel?”

The choking was instant and violent. Yash started thumping her back to save her from dying. She’d rather choke to death than answer that question.

She tucked her chin into her chest, but when Yash pulled her into his shoulder, she snuggled into him like a little girl who wasn’t a badass surgeon. Then again, she didn’t feel like a badass anything.

How had this happened? How had she fallen for someone who despised her? Just thinking about him hurt, those eyes, that dimple in his chin, that voice that touched you like textured velvet rubbing against your skin.

“I’m going to kill this guy,” Yash muttered and she hiccuped a sob-laugh.

It would appear she had her brother back, so there was that. “Stop it. The desi protective big brother thing doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m going to tear him limb from limb.”

“Yuck. Is that a mobster impression?”

He laughed and his gray eyes twinkled. He rubbed her shoulder. “If you trust him, tell him. Tell him what Julia did if you need to.”

Another pathetic sob escaped her. Leaning her head back, she used the sleeve of her scrubs to squeeze back the tears. “You sure?”

“Esha’s right, the secret is what gives her power. She’s not supposed to be talking about any of this, but she is because she knows we can’t refute anything she says without acknowledging that it happened. At least in this one case we can take that power away from her.”

“HRH will kill me. And fire DJ.” She would never forgive herself if that happened. “You have to promise to not let HRH fire him. No matter what happens.”

He didn’t respond.

“Please, Yash.”

“You think I can budge HRH on this?”

Was that even a question? “Come on, how long has Dad wanted this? You’re giving him his dream. You can pretty much get him to do anything.”

Yash laughed. “This is HRH we’re talking about. None of us can ever do enough. I’ll be president and he’ll say, ‘You know you can be more, beta!’” Yash had always done a spot-on HRH imitation.

He had a point. “Whatever happened to unconditional love?”

“His definition of love is pushing us to meet our potential. Unconditional love is an oxymoron to Ma and HRH.”

It was her turn to laugh. “That explains our life, doesn’t it?”

He wrapped his arm tighter around her. “It’s a good life, giraffe. Because we have the Animal Farm.”