Accidentally Engaged(25)
Reena squeezed her eyes shut. She felt the same way. She’d told her friends that she had regrets after that night, but it wasn’t true. On what should have been the worst night ever, she’d laughed, she’d cooked, and she’d forgotten about it all.
“But at the end of the day,” he said, “I work for your father, and if I upset you, my job is at stake.”
And there it was. Any relationship between them, even a simple friendship, sat in the shadow of her family. Could she ever truly trust a man employed by her father?
He worked a little longer at the back of her head before speaking again. “Done,” he finally said, putting the comb down. “We have to do the whole thing again in a week, to be sure.”
Reena lifted her head and stood up, stretching her tired legs. She turned to look at Nadim. “I’m not sure if you figured this out yet, but I don’t have the best relationship with my parents. We can’t be friends if you’re always worried about what my father will say and…and I’d like it if we could be friends.”
Reena bit the side of her lip, realizing how pathetic she sounded. Was this grade two? Asking him to be her friend?
He smiled, though. Wide enough for her to see that dimple for the first time without the concealment of facial hair. She had an urge to stick her pinky finger into the deep crevice. “I’d like that, Reena. Friends.” His smile was infectious.
She could do it, be his friend. She could put aside her attraction, her parents’ interference, and his secrecy, and just get support from the man who lived across the hall, and who needed a friend as much as she did. “Deal.”
He beamed. “Okay, then, friend. Be back in a second. I just got a pumpkin porter that you have to try. We can toast this friendship.” He grinned and left her apartment.
Reena smiled to herself as she checked her phone. And a perfectly timed message from the foodie gods themselves was waiting for her in her inbox.
To Reena Manji,
Congratulations! Among hundreds of entries, yours has been chosen to participate in the FoodTV Home Cooking Showdown! The winning couple of this talent search will be awarded a ten-thousand-dollar scholarship for the Asler Institute, Canada’s premier cooking school with locations in every major city across the country. Winners may also be showcased in a FoodTV holiday special, sharing their unique home-cooked cuisine!
Reena skimmed the rest of the email outlining the rules while her heart beat heavily in her ears. Shayne’s inside information was right. She was in.
And at that moment, Reena decided that she wanted to do it. Cooking with Nadim had saved her the night she lost her job—she needed, deserved more of that.
Her kitchen timer went off before Nadim returned, so by the time he was back in her kitchen pouring the dark beer into glasses, she was at her counter getting ready to form the challah dough into loaves.
“Pull up a stool,” she told Nadim after he handed her the beer. “I need to ask you something. No pressure, just an idea, okay?”
He grinned as he sat opposite her at the breakfast bar. “I’m all ears. Go ahead.”
“Okay.” She took a breath. “First, a question. Do you remember that video we made for that FoodTV contest?”
“Of course.”
“One of us sent in the application.” She paused. “I was too drunk. I don’t remember who did it.”
He cringed. “Yeah, I should apologize. We applied together, but I talked you into it. I may have been a bit persuasive.”
“We got in.”
His eyes widened. “Shit. Really?”
She nodded. “And…I want to do the contest. But I’ll need your help to continue.”
Pulling off a six-strand braid of bread dough while explaining to an attractive man that she wanted him to pretend to be her fiancé to compete in an online cooking contest was no easy feat, but she’d made challah enough times that she managed. And the smirk on Nadim’s face told her the idea didn’t turn him off. Amused him, though.
“We were supposed to be a couple in that video?” he asked. “You told me it was just supposed to be pairs.”
“It’s a family cooking challenge. We were supposed to be family.”
“I thought you didn’t want to marry me,” he said, laughing.
“I don’t. It’s just for the contest. I may not have wanted to enter, but we did. And we’re finalists.”
“So now you want me to do it?”
“I’ll do all the cooking, and you would be like my sidekick. I really want this scholarship. The Asler Institute has the most amazing artisan bread baking program. I’ve wanted to take it for years.”
“I don’t think you need a course, Reena,” he said, watching her hands again. “That bread you gave me last night was divine. And that”—he pointed to the thick, plaited loaf that was forming from the six snakes of dough—“how are you doing that?”
“Practice,” she said, finishing the braid and tucking the ends under. “Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I just…I wanted something fun to keep me occupied right now. Things have been…but you don’t have to.” She turned to fetch the beaten egg white she had saved after adding the yolk to the dough and started to brush it over the bread.