Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors (The Rajes #1)(64)

Instead of smiling back, Trisha Raje scowled. Actually it was more a sneer, dripping with all the disgust of someone who had stepped in fresh turd. She followed it up by stepping back, as though she were physically repulsed.

“Dr. Raje, this is Julia,” he said sharply, offended on Julia’s behalf. “Julia, this is Dr. Raje.”

“Hi, Dr. Raje.” Julia extended a hand, her smile turning mildly amused.

“It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Caine,” Trisha said in a slicing tone that reminded him of the first time they’d met and she’d asked him if he knew the worth of her hands. That was it. That’s all she threw at DJ before spinning around, her proud head held high. Then without even looking in Julia’s direction she strode away.

Julia looked as though someone had slapped her. He barely knew her, but he could swear she was holding back tears.

“Sorry about that.” He touched her shoulder even as his eyes followed Trisha Raje walking away. “You all right?”

Her eyes filled, but she sniffed and smiled at him, batting her lids to clear the tears. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. How well do you know Trisha?”

“Barely. Just as Emma’s doctor. Do you know her?”

Her laugh at that was horridly sad. “We were best friends in college.” She flicked away the tear that glided down one cheek. “Or she was mine. Apparently, I wasn’t worthy of the honor. Trailer trash on scholarship at Berkeley is still trailer trash.”

He knew exactly how Julia felt. Before he could respond, she scrubbed at her eyes with so much resolve it made her look years younger. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. It was a long time ago. I just came back to make sure you were okay. You looked very worried when I left. I wanted to let you know that if you have any concerns at all, all you have to do is ask and I’ll address them.”

She looked so earnest he had to smile at her. “You came back just to tell me that?”

Her grin went impish, every evidence of the tears she had fought gone, and he marveled at the strength that must take. “Maybe.” She held up her denim jacket. “But I also left my jacket in Emma’s studio.”

That smile of hers made him feel lighter, as though he, too, could put things away himself. “And here I was, all flattered.”

She threw him a look from beneath her lashes. “Well, I never said I didn’t leave the jacket behind for a reason.” With that she sashayed away, leaving him to ponder the two women who had traced that same path within the span of a few minutes, and how very different each one of them made him feel.





Chapter Nineteen


Trisha ran out into the shaded nursing home parking lot. Her heart was thudding in her chest. She willed herself to calm down, but she couldn’t seem to bring her panic under control.

It felt like she’d seen a ghost. She had. A ghost who looked nothing like the girl who had been her roommate for a whole year. Julia had gone from looking like Disney’s Cinderella to looking like someone who despised the idea of looking like Cinderella.

Had those been dreadlocks? Something about that made Trisha want to bring up her lunch, even more than the shameless amusement in Julia’s eyes as she had taken Trisha in. And, oh God, had she seen Trisha drooling all over DJ Caine?

Letting herself into her car, she leaned her head back into the headrest and closed her eyes. She needed to find out how, and why, why! DJ Caine knew Julia.

And she needed to call Yash.

She sat up and tried to calm herself. Jacaranda trees cast a deep shade on the stamped concrete sidewalk. Red country tiles lined the arched porch. Cheery yellow annuals overflowed from massive ceramic planters. All the elements that attempted to mimic a homelike atmosphere jumped out at her. Everywhere there were efforts to soothe those who visited family members they couldn’t keep close in their real homes.

She thought about Dorna’s Rita, frail yet resilient. Trisha had come by to drop off Dorna’s things and check up on her. Rita had been lucid today but not a single tear had fallen from Rita’s eyes as they sat together and shared Dorna stories. “She lived,” Rita had said. “Really lived. And that’s nothing to shed tears over.”

She had made Trisha tell her all about the ependymoma she had performed that morning the way Dorna had always done, and also all about the surgery that Dorna had insisted upon for herself. In the end they had agreed that Dorna had probably orchestrated her own death on the operating table.

When Trisha left, her heart had been so full of pain, but also joy at a life well lived. Then she’d run into DJ.

And then into the woman who should never ever be allowed anywhere near vulnerable people. Or anywhere near where Yash was. Her chest tightened painfully as she thought of what Julia had done to her brother.

Picking up her phone Trisha scrolled through her favorites. There were her brothers: TP—short for The Prince, not Toilet Paper—and Little TP.

The nicknames made her smile. Trisha hated that she barely ever spoke to her brothers anymore. Vansh hadn’t lived in the same time zone as her in years. Plus, the boy was always in the middle of some serious shitstorm. If there wasn’t shelling, or chanting, or rioting going on in the background when they spoke on the phone, Trisha might suspect someone was impersonating her little brother.

She badly wanted to call Vansh, but she knew that was just avoidance, so she took a breath and hit “TP,” a part of her hoping that Yash might be too busy to answer.