Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors (The Rajes #1)(63)

The crowd here seemed happy enough with the food, because there was a virtual riot near the buffet table. It seemed like the smell had brought every single resident to the dining hall all at once.

They joined the queue waiting to get at the food.

“It’s Indian curry Thursday!” the older man standing in front of them said.

DJ cringed at the use of the word, but the man who was dressed in a crisp dress shirt and trousers and reeked of aftershave was too busy checking Betsy out to notice. “Oh, there you are, Miss Betsy! How pretty you look this afternoon!”

She smiled and, God help him, batted her eyelashes.

DJ listened as they flirted—rather deftly he might add. He could learn a thing or two. Finally, they reached the buffet table. “Let’s get you something to eat.” He plated some chicken and rice for Betsy, swirled some raita on top and placed a naan quarter at just the right angle, then scanned the room for a table and found a head of golden dreadlocks all the way across the crowded room.

What was Julia doing back here? He tried to catch her eye, but she seemed to be searching for someone. Surely she wasn’t looking for him. The tiny kick of anticipation in his gut made him feel thirteen years old.

He settled Betsy at a table and brought her a glass of water. “I’ll be right back,” he said but Betsy was busy beckoning her new boyfriend over. “I need to say hello to a friend.”

Betsy followed his gaze, just as Julia’s clear blue eyes met his.

“Well well well,” Betsy said. “She’s a looker, isn’t she?”

DJ shrugged in agreement. Julia waved to him and he made a gesture letting her know he was coming over.

“But what does a white girl need dreads for?”

Luckily, Mr. Casanova joined her and DJ didn’t have to respond.

He made his way across the crowded dining hall toward the corridor where Julia had headed and crashed straight into someone.

He looked down, an apology on his lips, and found himself staring right into the flashing amber eyes of Trisha Raje, of all people.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” she snapped with her usual sunniness, pressing a hand into his chest to push him away. His skin heated under her hand, the awareness of it spreading through him. In the moment that it took for her to recognize him, her eyes went round, her mouth rounder. It was as though she had no idea what to do with the fact that he existed at all. “Oh,” she followed up articulately.

“Dr. Raje,” he said. Her palm was still pressed against his chest.

“What are you doing here?” they both said together and the embarrassment he saw in her eyes spread all across him.

For a few seconds, neither one of them said anything.

Then she pulled her hand away and found her voice as color rampaged across her face. “I was here to see a friend.”

Something so sad flashed in her eyes that he almost wanted to ask her what was wrong. Instead what came out was, “Emma works here, so I brought her in.”

Mentioning Emma seemed to bring their last conversation to life between them, accusations and hopelessness and all. She opened and closed her mouth, and yet again he had a sense that she was so uncomfortable around him that she could barely keep things straight. Well, she wasn’t alone.

“How is Emma doing?” she asked.

He couldn’t answer. Not without thinking about how he hadn’t found a way to change Emma’s mind yet.

The long column of her throat strained as she swallowed and he had a sense that she’d seen his thoughts, his feeling of uselessness, his guilt. This time sympathy flashed in her eyes and it ramped up his restlessness.

“So Emma is working today?” she said when he didn’t respond, and all he could think of was how tired Emma had looked and how letting Emma work right now proved that he was failing at taking care of her.

“I thought you wanted her to experience how worth living her life is.” Even to his own ears he sounded defensive. “Well, she considers this place the best part of her life.”

Instead of biting his head off in return, she nodded. “I imagine she does.” Her hand reached out and hovered over his forearm. “Mr. Caine . . .”

Every time she called him Mr. Caine he wanted to ask her to call him DJ, but it never seemed to come out.

She pulled her hand back without touching him. “What you’re doing . . . it’s really wonderful.” Was she attempting pleasantness? Her face was all pinched, certainly not the right accompaniment to pleasantness. He couldn’t quite reconcile pleasantness on her at all. Couldn’t make it fit with what he knew of her. She pressed her hand into her belly and his own hand went to his chest where her hand had pressed into his skin.

“Should we go find Emma? I’d love to say hi.” The only time her face seemed to relax was when she mentioned Emma. And somehow that made the hope that Emma would be all right nudge at him.

“DJ?” Julia said behind Trisha and she froze.

Her entire demeanor changed. She spun around as though someone had stabbed her between the shoulder blades. Her eyes scanned Julia from head to toe, the tattered jeans, the blond dreadlocks gathered over one shoulder, the Ganesha tattooed up the side of her neck, and rested in horror on her raised, pierced brow.

Julia in turn took in the doctor in her pristine pantsuit, her expensive shoes, her glossy well-cut hair that bobbed around a perfectly boned jaw, then gave her the warmest smile.